Oh crap. Myles thought. He had taken his glove off and what he saw made shivers run down his back. It was spreading, and the orange glow under his skin was creeping past his fingertips. The glow had appeared a week ago, and it had stayed in his fingertips. Until now...would he turn into a lightbulb? Will it spread to other people? What if someone found out?
“Hurry up!” Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Myles scurried to put his gloves back on and then came out of the small airplane-like bathroom in the back of the theater. “Finally,” Pierre Faucheux said, “Get back to your job, Light Boy!” Pierre was the lead actor in the production and he made Myle’s life miserable. What does he have against me? I never did anything to him, Myles pondered. Nevertheless, Myles headed back to the booth where he worked.
“Hey, Myles!” Niccolò Selvaggio said when I entered the booth, “Can you check the light order for act two scene three for me?”
“Sure,” Myles replied. Niccolò was the director for the play, and we were only two weeks away from the production. He pulled out his folder and flipped to page 18. “Here it is. Orange: Center Center, Yellow: Downstage Center, Green: Center Left, Center Right, Upstage Right, Upstage Center, and Upstage Left.”
“Does anything change during that scene?” Niccolò asked.
“Yeah, everything fades to blue,” Myles read.
“Okay, thanks,” he said as he made a note on the script and walked away. Since everyone was on a quick break, he decided to play around with the lights. Myles read through his folder and went through all the scenes he needed to work on.
Yellow fades to orange, he read. He switched the lights to yellow, then eased into orange. Suddenly, the lights lurched to red. He frowned. Myles hadn’t touched the red switch.
“What in the world?” he said to himself. He turned on the orange switch. That was fine, so what happened? Myles just shook his head and tried again. The yellow faded to orange, just fine.
“Okay?” Myles said. As long as that didn’t happen during the production, Myles would be fine.
“Back on stage everyone!” Niccoló’s voice split the noisy atmosphere. “We’re running act two scene three. Rebecca is in the forest and meets Marco by the lake.” The play was a story about two lovers during the Great Depression. Myles set the lights as Pierre and Samantha got on stage. Samantha Anderson was a newer actor, but was just as popular as Pierre without being snobby.
“Action!” Niccoló said, not minding if that was a little cliche. Samantha walked onstage and crossed to downstage center. As she walked, Myles faded the lights to blue. Pierre came onstage behind her.
“Care for some company?” he asked, his french accent transforming into a British one.
"Marco!" Samantha gasped and ran into his arms. "I thought you were going to America!"
“I thought you were going to America!” she said.
“I would never leave you,” he told her. Pierre stepped back, “I came to ask you something.”
“What?” Samantha asked. Her eyes gleamed with love. It was like they were inseparable from Pierre's. Though she only worked with him, everyone knew she liked him. Myles just rolled his own eyes. How could anyone like someone as rude as Pierre?
“Come with me,” he stated. Their voices droned on as Myles reduced his attention. He pulled out his phone and started playing Pac-Man. Suddenly, he felt a certain warm tingling in his hand. He put his phone in his pocket then looked around and, noticing there was no one else in the booth, pulled his glove off. Myles gasped. The orange glow was halfway down his palm. He watched it grow, moving half a centimeter in two minutes. Myles looked at his watch. There was an hour left of practice! The glow would no doubt be visible by then. Slowly, Myles put his glove back on and stood up.
He made his way down to Niccolò. Myles looked down at his hand then pulled his small leather gloves further up his wrist for security. Pierre looked up from his acting and glared at Myles, then focused back in on the scene. At the bottom of the many steps, Myles tapped Niccolò on the shoulder.
“Niccolò?” he said. The director didn’t turn around.
“Yeah?” he asked, absentmindedly.
“I’m going to have to leave early today,” he replied.
“How much earlier?” Niccolò said, still focused on the scene.
“I actually have to leave now,” Myles shifted. Niccolò turned around to face him.
“Now?” he was frowning. Myles rubbed his nose like he always did when he was uncomfortable. That’s when he noticed that Niccolò had said that quite loud and everyone else had gone quiet.
“Yeah,” he answered softly.
“Why? Are you okay?”
“Um, I don’t know.” The was more uncomfortable staring from all the actors.
“Well, alright,” Niccolò gave in with a shrug. He looked back on the scene, “Well? Get back to it everyone!” Pierre shot one more glare at Myles before he turned back to Samantha.
“I have already bought your ticket, my love,” Pierre continued his line. Myles didn’t stay around much longer. He hurried up the steps, as quickly as he could without drawing any attention, then swung open the door at the top of the auditorium and dashed along the velvet halls.
The fifteen year old grabbed his bike off the rack and got on. He rode out of the parking lot and into the bike lane on the road. Myles rode towards downtown, thinking about what was happening. Ten minutes into the ride, the glow was visible beyond his gloves. He pulled his sweatshirt sleeve lower, in an attempt to cover the glow up. As Myles reached his building, he stopped his bike and jumped off. He chained it to the rack outside and walked into the lobby. Myles’ building wasn’t fancy like the ones you see on TV. The lobby was run down, with a sitting area the size of a bathroom. The furniture and decorations all looked like they were from 1990, and there was dust everywhere. Myles walked over to the stairs and started the trek to his sixth floor apartment. The elevator was always breaking down and, from Myles’ ten year experience, it was better just to play it safe. Myles was almost to the top of the third floor when he saw Maddy Darrel walk past. Her long black hair was flowing as she walked down the steps. As she looked up at Myles, her foot caught on a roll in the carpet and she tumbled down. Her books went flying.
“Hey,” Myles said as he bent down to help her pick them up. Maddy was now sitting on the floor, adjusting her glasses.
“Um, hi,” she said, joining him in grabbing the books. They both stood up, and Myles handed her the books he had grabbed. As he pulled his hand away, a little bit of orange showed. Myles swiftly withdrew his hand and pulled his sleeve down. He glanced up at Maddy to see if she had seen, but she was already hurrying away.
“Nice talking to you,” he mumbled as he started climbing the stairs again. Myles finally finished climbing the stairs and walked down the hall to his apartment. Just as he was reaching for the handle, it turned and the door opened. Myles’ mom stood there, looking shocked.
“Myles? Aren’t you supposed to be at the theater?” she asked him.
“Yeah, but we got done early,” he bluffed. Myles was known in his family for having the worst poker face, and now was not one of his lucky times.
“Myles,” his mom said dissaprovingly low.
“Look, I’ll explain later, okay? You just go shopping and I’ll tell you when you get home,” he said. Myles kept saying stuff about how he would tell her later as he slowly pushed her out the door and stepped inside. The door was closed before his mom could say anything further.