During recess, it was no rare sight to see students sitting around somewhere at Crystal Prep Academy with their laptops, working for school instead of relaxing. In the last few days the number of students who spent the intervals between classes doing homework or learning actually seemed to have increased quite much. At first glance, it seemed like Sunny Flare was one of those students. Sitting at a bench in the entrance hall she had her laptop on her lap, staring at the screen as she typed.
However, it only took a second look to notice she was most likely not doing schoolwork, for the passion and joy she expressed while typing were more than evident. Her fingers were flying over the keyboard, a big grin plastered on her face. Closer and closer her face inched towards the screen, her eyes fixed on it with a childish ecstasy gleaming in them. With every word that popped up on the screen her excitement seemed to be growing even more. Dialogue lines, stage directions, descriptions of costumes and props – they all were smoothly pouring out of her fingers onto the screen. Only occasionally she paused for a moment, peering thoughtfully up at the ceiling in await for an inspiration. These moments were short-lived though, as ideas quickly were flowing into her mind and put down on digital paper.
Recess was nearing its end when Sunny put a full stop on the bottom of the page. Feeling a tad exhausted she leaned back, her breath a little short. Sunny wiped some sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, admiring her work. In her eyes the reflection of clever puns, dramatic twists and emotional moments appeared as she scrolled through the document. A look of contentment spread over her face. Several minutes she went over the same lines again and again, unable to cast her eyes away.
While she appreciated her work she could feel a surge of inspiration coming up inside her again. Her fingers returned on the keyboard, about to continue their work. Just as she was about to write the first word however she paused. Her gaze was focused on the email-icon in the taskbar, blinking decently. “Oh, I’ve got post!” she noted, opening her mailbox. There was one new email. As she looked at the sender Sunny jolted up, her heart beating a little faster: It was from the theatre group.
Immediately she clicked on the email, eagerly reading it. The further her eyes moved down the screen however the more the corners of her mouth dropped, her excitement turning into disappointment. Slumping her shoulders she moved the email into a folder called “rejections”, staring at it for a moment. There spanned several pages, all of them having the same sender. Her gaze then went to a small icon on the sidebar, displaying a folder named “approvals”. The number zero was standing in brackets behind it.
With a loud sigh Sunny closed her mailbox. The window with her document reappeared on the screen. She put her fingers back on the keyboard, but they didn’t move. It felt like all inspiration had been drained from Sunny. Again she sighed as she saved and closed the document, returning to her desktop. A document link caught her attention, called “friendship report”. She moved the cursor over it, letting it hover for a while. After tapping on the mouse pad for a moment she closed her laptop, leaning back against the wall behind while letting out one more sigh. Frustration was building up inside her, along a subtle, yet undeniable anger. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to calm herself. Her history homework, she thought, she should get started on it before recess was over. It would distract her, plus if she got it done or at least started with it, she would have more time in the afternoon for her other homework and…
“Miss Flare?”
Sunny nearly jumped up from the bench in shock. Startled she looked to the side, seeing a teacher standing beside her. “Principal Cinch would like to see you in her office” the teacher told her sternly. “Right away!”
Hastily Sunny nodded. She put her laptop into her backpack, quickly shouldering it as she got up and walked past the teacher towards the principal’s office. At first she was in a hurry, almost bumping into other students who threw obnoxious glares at her. The closer she got to the office however the slower her steps became. She was basically sneaking as she approached the door, stopping as she arrived. Standing in front of the office she hesitated. A knot was forming in her stomach. With a gulp she slowly raised her hand, carefully clenching it to a fist as she knocked against the door.
“Enter” a strict voice commanded her from the other side. Her jittering hand embraced the doorknob, slowly turning it around. The ray of light that streamed through the opening door seemed to be everything that illuminated the room, being mainly covered in dark. The only things really visible were the trophy shelves on the walls and the desk at the back of the office. Principal Cinch was sitting behind it, her eyes fixed on a document lying in front of her. She was surrounded by stacks of paper covering the majority of the desk. With a gesture of her hand the principal told Sunny to come in. Stepping inside she closed the door behind her, taking a quick look at the trophy shelves before the light diminished. Though it wasn’t placed very prominently she could still see the award for the Friendship Games they had “won” this year. A trophy for tying didn’t look too impressive alongside all those displaying the victories of Crystal Prep. Nevertheless a slight smile of pride hushed over Sunny’s face.
As she shut the door completely, leaving only the dim light coming in through the shutters to enlighten the room, she slowly walked up to the desk. She watched her reading and filling out documents, putting them on top of a stacks when she was done and taking another one from a different. Standing in front of the principal Sunny was growing steadily more nervous. When she put her signature under what must have been the twelfth document since she came in Sunny shyly cleared her throat.
“Um, P-principal Cinch?” she said, her voice shaking. “I’m Sunny Flare. Y-you wanted to see me.”
The pen abruptly stopped. Over her glasses the principal peered up at Sunny, sending a chill down the student’s spine. “Ah, Miss Flare” the principal finally said. Putting her pen down she leaned slightly back, staring Sunny straight in the eyes. “I’m pleased you managed to come here so fast” she told her, although her face was showing no signs she was actually pleased. She waved her hands towards the chair on the other side of the desk. “Please take a seat.”
Putting her schoolbag on her lap Sunny quickly sat down. The principal placed her elbows on her desk, folding her hands in front of her face.
“I presume you know about the upcoming play of our theatre group?” she asked, looking over her interlaced fingers at Sunny.
“Oh yes!” she replied, her mood brightening for a moment. “They are going to perform the autobiography about Star Swirl the Bearded, right? I got a ticket for it weeks ago!”
The principal nodded. “I am glad to hear that. Your generation has way too little respect for the classic arts. I am actually considering to give students who don’t go at least once very half school year to a theatre performance a lower grade in English.”
Sunny winced slightly. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to reward the students who go instead of punishing those who don’t?” she asked – or rather wanted to ask, but the cold glance of the principal made the question get stuck in her throat.
“As you probably also are aware” the principal continued, adjusting her glasses slightly “Since the autobiography Star Swirl wrote about himself isn’t long enough to fill an entire evening, there will be a short, unrelated play beforehand, as a sort of prelude.” It was slightly, but Sunny believed the principal to be frowning even harder than usual. “However, the part of the theatre group that was responsible for carrying out this very small task has decided to quit on short notice” she said with a strained voice.
Sunny’s fingers clenched her backpack. “I’ve… heard of that” she mumbled, shivering slightly.
Closing her eyes the principal took in a deep breath. Even though she tried to suppress it, Sunny clearly could hear her panting in anger. As she opened her eyes again the look on her face was a little softer, but still very stern. “Since the rest of the theatre group is occupied with performing the main play, I’ve decided to search a replacement for the prelude from outside the theatre group” she told Sunny.
From one of the stacks of paper she pulled out something that looked like a script. Sunny watched her putting it in front of her on the desk. Curiously, but carefully Sunny took a peek at it. When she read the title on the front page her eyes nearly popped out of her head.
“I have heard you sent various scripts to the theatre group” the principal said, the sharp tip of her index finger going along the title. “I asked them to print one of the shorter plays and hand it over to me. I believe it would be an adequate prelude to the main performance.”
Sunny couldn’t believe what she heard. “Y-y-you want to perform my play?” she stuttered.
Without raising her head the principal adjusted her glasses. “Indeed.”
Sunny’s jaw dropped. She stared at the script in disbelief, thinking for a moment to be dreaming.
“Also” the principal went on, still looking at the script “Since your grades in all artistic and literal subjects are excellent, I decided you were also the most qualified to bring the vision of your play on the stage.” She glanced up at Sunny. “Would you be interested in directing your play?”
Staring open-mouthed at her script Sunny didn’t notice at first the principal was talking to her. When her mind had finally processed the information she quickly raised her head, nodding frantically.
A smile spread over the principal’s face – not a really friendly one, more impish and devious. Sunny guessed that was the only way she was able to smile. “Good” she stated. Picking up the script she handed it over the desk at Sunny, who quickly grabbed it with both hands. “I will send you an email about the budget. As you probably know, the local newspaper will write about the performance of the theatre group. There will also be a few lines about the prelude.” More sharply she told Sunny: “So I presume you are going to do your best to represent our school accordingly, am I right?”
The passive threat frightened Sunny, but it only dampened her euphoria by a little. “B-but of course!” Sunny hastily said as she stood up. The script in her hands she put her backpack on her shoulders, smiling gently at the principal. “Thank you very much, Principal Cinch” she politely said, bowing slightly. “I guarantee you will not regret your decision.” She turned around, calmly walking towards the exit. Opening the door she stepped out of the office, the script neatly tucked under her arm. Once she was outside and the door closed again Cinch picked up her pen. She was about to sign another document, putting her pen on the appointed line.
A shrill scream of joy suddenly sounded from the hallway. Startled the Principal bumped with her elbows against one of the stacks of paper around her. The tower tumbled for a moment, before falling over to the side. In a chain-reaction it knocked over all the other stacks, scattering the documents all over and around her desk. The principal gazed at the mess around her, in a mixture of shock, irritation and fury. She took off her glasses, and massaged her temple.
Meanwhile Sunny was standing in front of the office, trying not to let another squeal of joy break out of her. Clenching the script in her hands she giggled enthusiastically, earning her more than one weird glance from bypassing students. Her heart was beating so hard in excitement she was afraid it could burst out of her chest any second. She was feeling so light, as if she could set off from the ground and fly straight towards heaven.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” she squeaked, her voice getting higher with each repetition. With quick steps she rushed down the hallway, running through the pages of the script. As she flew over the text she quickly remembered the play, every word she wrote streaming back into her memory. “I can’t believe it!” she said to herself, overflowing with happiness. Closing her script again she put on a confident look. “This is it! Finally! I will prove these theatre snobs what a great writer I am!” Putting her nose up she huffed angrily. “They think they are sooo high and mighty! Playing only the most famous writers and their own scripts, because everything else is below their standards!” She held the script in front of her again, smirking. “But once they actually see one of my plays on stage, they are going to come crawling on their knees, begging me to forgive their ignorance, and bowing to my talent!”
The sound of the bell echoed through the hallway. Sunny walked towards her class, but didn’t really take care of her way. Her mind was too busy picturing the play. Costumes were forming in front of her inner eye, just like the properties. Of course, she would probably have to make a few cuts depending on what she could get in short time, and how high the budget would be. But that didn’t keep her from dreaming about fantastic landscapes and characters coming to life on the stage. The image became steadily clearer, Sunny seeing the scenery in front of her, and hearing the actors saying the lines she wrote while wearing their grand costumes…
Suddenly Sunny stopped. “Wait” she said, with a look of concern as she realized something. “If the whole theatre group is already performing their play – where am I gonna get actors to perform mine?”