“Knee pads?” Aya kneels and presses two fingers against Hana’s right kneecap through the fabric. Then the left.
“In-ears?” Aya touches Hana’s jaw, turning her face left, then right. Both clear plastic molds sit flush.
The floor manager knocks twice. “Thirty seconds, Showstars.”
“Check.”
Hana sets the clipboard down. She steps close, forehead to forehead. “That’s not a problem. That’s a check. You’re here . You’re not numb. That’s good.”
“Checked,” she says.
“Check.”
Aya lifts the back of her cropped jacket. The transmitter is snug in its neoprene belt, antenna pointed down. “Channel 4, gain at 70%. Checked.”
Hana grabs Aya’s hand. “One more thing,” she says, smiling. “Smiles?”
Aya pauses. She meets Hana’s eyes in the mirror. For a second, the checklist doesn’t matter. What matters is the tiny tremor in Aya’s left hand—the one that always shows up before a ballad.
They walk toward the stage. The earthquake gets louder. And when the lights blind them both, they don’t stumble. Because they checked.
Aya exhales. The tremor stops.
“Microphone pack?” Hana asks.
“Knee pads?” Aya kneels and presses two fingers against Hana’s right kneecap through the fabric. Then the left.
“In-ears?” Aya touches Hana’s jaw, turning her face left, then right. Both clear plastic molds sit flush.
The floor manager knocks twice. “Thirty seconds, Showstars.”
“Check.”
Hana sets the clipboard down. She steps close, forehead to forehead. “That’s not a problem. That’s a check. You’re here . You’re not numb. That’s good.”
“Checked,” she says.
“Check.”
Aya lifts the back of her cropped jacket. The transmitter is snug in its neoprene belt, antenna pointed down. “Channel 4, gain at 70%. Checked.”
Hana grabs Aya’s hand. “One more thing,” she says, smiling. “Smiles?”
Aya pauses. She meets Hana’s eyes in the mirror. For a second, the checklist doesn’t matter. What matters is the tiny tremor in Aya’s left hand—the one that always shows up before a ballad. Showstars Hana And Aya Checked
They walk toward the stage. The earthquake gets louder. And when the lights blind them both, they don’t stumble. Because they checked.
Aya exhales. The tremor stops.
“Microphone pack?” Hana asks.