Luna Basswood's Arc

Chapter 5 of 14

Luna walked out of the shed with the singer at her shoulder. The main stage rose ahead, planked and wide, four amps humming at the back and a judge's table set on the grass. Ten minutes. Her whole plan hung on one thing she hadn't nailed down. A quiet corner needs a corner. She hadn't picked which one. She stopped at the stage steps. Stage left had the tall PA stack. Stage right had a taped square where a drum riser used to sit. She needed the spot that killed her volume the least and hid her the most. Judges leaning in was the whole trick. If she stood center, she was just a quiet girl getting swallowed. A runner with a clipboard blocked the steps. "Basswood. Corner assignments are first come at the sign-in tent. You didn't sign." "I'm signing now." "Thorne signed an hour ago. She took stage left." Luna's stomach dropped a second time. Stage left was the dead spot she wanted. The PA stack blocked side wash there. A whisper would sit clean under the stack's shadow. Riley Thorne had walked in and taken it while Luna was in a shed. Luna cut across the grass to the sign-in tent. Riley stood by the flap with a paper cup, watching her come. Riley was the rival she'd been measured against all week, tall, hair pinned back, calm in a way that read as already-won. "You want left," Riley said. "I could see it on your face two days ago." "You don't need left. You play loud." "I need whatever you need." Riley sipped. "That's how it works." Luna looked past her at the board. Stage right, taped square, still open. She thought about the square. A drum riser had sat there. The plywood under the tape would be hollow. Any low note would bloom under her boots. Her partner's baritone would ring the floor like a struck drum. She turned to the singer. "Right. The taped square. Stand on the plywood and hit your low E hard on the downbeat." The singer tested the floor with her heel. It thumped. She grinned once. "Locked." Luna signed for stage right. The runner marked it and tore the slip. Riley watched the pen move. "Cute." "You kept your corner. I made one." Luna walked to the taped square with the fish across her back and the singer behind her. She set her amp on the plywood and knelt to plug in. The board under her knee gave a soft, hollow knock. It would carry. The runner called two minutes. Luna stood in her square. She had a corner now, chosen, not the one she wanted, but one that would work if the floor held. Across the stage, Riley plugged in under the PA stack and did not look over again.