Billy Troll's Arc

Chapter 4 of 6

Billy came back three nights in a row after that. Each time, the girls were already there, tuning their instruments and running through progressions. They didn't waste time on small talk. They just played, working through transitions until the songs felt tight. On the fourth night, Billy arrived early to drop off his amp. The rehearsal hall was empty except for the janitor, who was propping open a back door to carry trash out. Billy helped him haul a few bags to the old timber shed behind the building where they kept the dumpster. The shed door hung crooked on its hinges, and inside, stacked against the far wall, Billy spotted boxes of old competition paperwork. One box had split open, spilling folders across the dirt floor. He bent down to gather them up and saw an envelope with official lettering across the front: Battle of the Bands 2026 Winner. His chest went cold. The competition hadn't even happened yet. It was still two months away. Billy pulled the envelope out and turned it over. It was sealed, but the name of the winner was written on a slip of paper visible through the translucent backing. The Jagged Trolls. He stood there holding it, his hands shaking. The janitor called from outside, asking if he was coming. Billy shoved the envelope in his jacket and walked back to the hall. When the girls arrived twenty minutes later, he told them they needed to talk. He showed them the envelope and watched their faces change. Suzie asked what it meant. Billy said it meant the competition was rigged. It meant Mic already knew he was going to win before he ever showed up at Billy's house to challenge him. The girls wanted to pull out. One of them said there was no point in playing if the outcome was fixed. But Billy realized something as he stood there listening to them. He'd spent years showing up for the kids at the hospital, knowing that most of them wouldn't get better, that the outcomes were already written in ways he couldn't change. He showed up anyway because the showing up mattered. Because who you chose to be in the face of a rigged game said more about you than winning ever could. He told the girls they were still going to compete. Not because they could win, but because walking away would mean letting Mic decide who they were. They practiced that night harder than they ever had before, and Billy felt something settle in his chest that had been restless for weeks. He wasn't trying to beat Mic anymore. He was trying to show everyone watching—including himself—what it looked like to keep going when the deck was stacked against you.