Cal had come to enjoy his morning drives to school with James. It was like old times, except there was a new maturity and expressiveness about him. He seemed to have a greater sense of self. He was forming opinions outside of food preferences and video games. But today he was silent. By the time they had turned onto the main road to school, Cal was wanting some conversation.

  "So, big day, huh." bégan Cal. But James did not respond other than to shift his body toward the window. "You know... because of the audition. You think you're ready?*

  Cal turned back to the road, raised his eyebrows, pooched out his lips, and nodded.. "Good, good, good. Ok then, well break a leg.” He paused to consider one last attempt. “You know the phrase "break you leg' is not actually about–”

  "Can we just not talk today? I need some time to think, It's nothing personal, Uncle Cal." he said, with a reassuring glance.

  “Absolutely. Just do your thing. kiddo.”

  The morning held promise, and he had chosen the auditorium for the auditions to lend a touch of formality—to test the children's stage presence. His mind wandered to James. Onstage, would he stand out? He wasn't as tall as the other boys, yet a recent growth spurt was evident. Before his transition, Cal remembered James being one of the taller girls in class. But his voice—did it have the makings of a Prince Charming? Cal had rarely heard him above a whisper; his singing voice was a mystery. Was it deep enough to pull it off? And what if James couldn't sing at all? The thought worried Cal; middle schoolers weren't known for their kindness to fragile egos. And even if James had the voice, would the school be ready to embrace him as a prince—a romantic lead?

  This was all new territory for him. Trans singers were just starting to make their way to the stage, and there was a lot of controversy about it in the opera world. He was now a director for the first time and for middle school kids. Self-doubt hit him squarely in the gut. Nausea followed. What was he thinking doing this? But it steadied him to remember the morning he finally found his way with the class and how well it had turned out. At that moment, as he turned into the school parking lot, he knew that somehow he could pull it off and that just maybe he was underestimating his young nephew.

  As the kids streamed into the auditorium, he pointed them to the fourth and fifth rows. After the final bell rang, he clapped his hands and said, "Ok, folks. This is what is going to happen. When I call your name, take your place in the wings until the person ahead of you has been dismissed. I will bring down the house lights, and you will not be able to see anyone in the auditorium but me because I'll be in the front row taking notes. When it is your turn, step out to the center of the stage, state your name and your song, and if you have a role in mind, please state it as well; any questions?"

  When everyone was settled and their boiling excitement cooled to a simmer, a girl with striking red hair raised her hand. "Um, Mr. S? Is there any way we can do this just for you? Like, do we have to do it in front of everyone?"

  By the response of anxious murmuring and chatter that followed, Cal surmised that she wasn’t the only one with the question.

  "That would not be unusual, but I need you to be here for supervision. Everyone, look around you. These are your friends and classmates. Over the next six weeks, they will become your best cheerleaders.” He took a moment to look the students in the eyes so that they might stop to consider the seriousness of his words. “Folks, if something strikes you as funny, just remember that you will be standing in the exact same spot in front of the same people."

  The giggles subsided, replaced by sobering realization. "Any more questions? No?" He turned to the back of the auditorium and shouted, "Carl? Lights?"

  The auditorium dimmed until only the stage was lit. He settled into the front row, notebook open, pen in hand. "Abby Blake, you're first."

  He could hear shuffling behind him, and then he saw the timid girl who had asked for a private audition pause on the stage stairs. She was biting her lip and rocking slightly on her frozen feet as if in a terrible quandary. She looked back at the other kids and then at Cal.

  Cal put the notebook and pen on the seat beside him and walked up to her. He turned to the kids and said, "Y'all give us a minute. Feel free to talk quietly among yourselves."

  He sat down on the second step and motioned her beside him. "It's tough to be first, isn't it?"

  Her hair fell over her face as she looked down at her Chuck Taylors. He was tempted to jump in and say something else, but his instinct told him to let it stand. When she eventually looked up, she sniffed up tears and said, almost mouthing the words, "I'm so scared. I just don't think I can do this."

  Cal looked out at the auditorium, fixing his eyes on a spot in the air near the back. "I was a late bloomer, Abby. I didn't start singing until high school, and the first time I auditioned for anything was for the voice faculty of Julliard." He turned to her briefly and added. "That's a very prestigious music school. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold the sheet music. When I reached the backstage curtain, my mouth was dry, my stomach gurgled--legs like rubber. I felt like I was about to face a firing squad, and every step I took toward the stage felt like walking on a tightrope without a net. But then, something miraculous happened." The girl shifted toward him and began listening intently. "The moment I stepped into the spotlight, it was as if a switch flipped inside me."

  “And you weren’t afraid anymore?”

  “Oh, no. I was still afraid. I had to clear my throat three times before I could even introduce myself. But when the pianist started playing, the music took over. I took a deep breath, opened my mouth, and I was singing. The next thing I remember, they were thanking me, and my first audition was done.”

  "I'm not very good, ya know," she said, matter-of-factly.

  "That remains to be seen, but you know? It's ok if you aren't because that's not what this is about. This is about supporting your school and trying something out. And who knows, you might surprise yourself."

  At that moment, Cal and Abby locked eyes--Abby searching for her resolve, and he feeling as though he were standing in front of the judges again to find out if he really had what it took. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together hard for a few seconds. When she opened them, she quietly nodded. Brushing her hair aside, she stood and ascended the stairs. Cal returned to his seat with the self-assurance he was seeking.

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  "Alright, let's get started. Quiet, please," he announced, his voice carrying a new weight.

  The room fell to dead silence as Abby stepped out from the curtains. Her face was thoughtful and determined. She took her place, met Cal's supportive nod, and cleared her throat. "My name is Abigail Blake, and I will be singing...um...a little bit of 'Part of your World' from The Little Mermaid...um...the old one."

  This was the test. Would the other kids show her respect? She inched forward a few steps, her eyes shut tight, and took a moment to gather herself. Then, the words began to flow, "Look at this stuff, isn't it neat..." Her voice was thin and shaky as she took each phrase in a slightly different key. Her performance blended nerves and bravery, her eyes fluttering open only briefly. When she reached the end, applause, whistles, and cheers filled the hall. Her eyes snapped open, wide and shining.

  "Thank you, Miss Blake." Cal's voice was warm with pride.

  Abby lingered, a deer caught in the spotlight's embrace.

  Gently, he guided her. "You can head off to the left, Abby. Wonderful job. Next, please?"

  The process settled into a comfortable rhythm. He took careful notes with each performance. Some were destined for the spotlight, others for the ensemble, and a few were better suited for the crew. As the auditions neared their end, Cerise Alvarez, the eighth-grade girl who had stood up for him on the first day, took the stage. He had heard bits of her singing in the exercises from the day before. Would she be his Cinderella?

  She approached center stage with the ease of someone walking into their living room. Her confident grin commanded the room. "Hey there! I am Cerise Alverez and I’m going for the part of Cinderella. I'll be singing 'Let It Go' from everybody's favorite: Frozen!

  With that, she dove straight into the song. “It’s time to see what I can do, to test the limits and breakthrough.” Her voice was robust and full of character as it filled the auditorium. She shifted into full gear in the chorus and the audience was swept up by her enthusiasm. Her performance culminated in a note so pure and powerful that the applause began before she finished. She took a playful bow, her smile as bright as the stage lights, and her classmates gave her a standing ovation.

  Cal had expected some good sounds but nothing of this magnitude. He did not want to show partiality, so he politely said, "Thank you, Miss Alverez." Then he checked the list. "Next, we have Jared Connor?"

  The auditorium was heavy with anticipation as Jared's name was called. The whispers ceased; this was the boy known more for his rudeness than his singing. Cal watched from the front row with his pen poised, ready to be impartial despite Jared's reputation.

  Jared stepped onto the stage without his usual swagger. He cleared his throat, and a hint of vulnerability ran briefly across his face. But with a quick breath, he shook it off and stood tall. "I'm Jared Miller, and I'll be singing 'Evermore' from Beauty and the Beast. I’m going for the part of Prince Charming."

  His unexpectedly rich and clear voice carried each note with confidence. The lyrics of longing and love flowed from him, painting a picture of a Prince Charming with power and allure. Cal found himself scribbling notes furiously, surprised at the talent unfolding before him.

  The auditorium erupted into applause after Jared hit the final, soaring note, holding it with a vibrato that rolled through the room. Even Cal had to admit the boy had chops. Jared's eyes scanned the crowd, pride replacing the usual surliness. For a moment, he wasn't the bully; he was just a kid with a dream, standing on a stage, pleased with the unexpected admiration.

  Cal nodded to himself. This audition would make casting Prince Charming all the more challenging. Jared had just set the bar high. Cal had all but decided on Jared for the role of Prince Charming, so as he called out his nephew's name with a deep mix of tangled emotion.

  This was the moment Cal was dreading. So far, the other kids had been supportive, but they'd all had their turn–nothing to lose. If there was a time for something ugly to happen, this was it. James approached the stage, a stark contrast to Jared's confident stride. He was quieter and more reserved, but a focus in his eyes held the room's attention.

  ""Uh...ok... I'm James Chin, and I'll be singing 'Hallelujah' by Leonard Cohen." At that moment, the two boys both gave whistles, and some of the other kids laughed. Cal wanted to scream for them to stop it--kick them out–but he kept the attention his nephew, whose eyes were closed and head bowed, somewhere between praying and preparing. This was his moment. He would have to own it or not. Cal also closed his eyes, lifting up his own kind of prayer. One of the boys snorted, but James began the chorus at that moment. "Hallelujah, hallelujah..." and everyone went silent. No one had expected this. His voice was a gentle wave that swelled into a powerful tide, filling every corner of the space with a richness and beauty that Jared, for all his bravado, hadn't reached. Cal felt tears forming deep in his chest and welling into his eyes. James's rendition of Cohen's classic unfolded like a story told for the first time. James wasn't just singing but baring his soul for his stunned classmates.

  When he finished, his voice briefly reverberated through the hall, and then there was stunned silence. It was as if everyone in the room, perhaps even Carl in the sound booth, was holding their breath.

  For a moment, Cal wondered if people were going to clap or just put up their books and leave. The first clap came from Cerise, slow at first but crescendoing as others joined in until everyone was on their feet, whooping and whistling, expressing their unbridled delight at the James Chin phenomenon—well, the entire class except Jared and Hunter.

  ##

  "You heard me. The kid is good," said Cal, settling into the soft leather cushions of the den couch, letting go of the day's tension.

  "I just can't get over it. Like, how good?" she said, scooting a little closer to him. "Like Prince Charming, good?"

  Cal nodded. "Like Prince Charming, good." He'd been stepping this moment over in his head the whole drive home with James sitting beside him. How would she react? He appreciated the complexity of this situation and how protective she was toward him. He turned full-on to face her. "Liu, I'm going to cast him as Prince Charming."

  Suddenly, her excitement faded to concern. "Prince Charming? Like he's going to play a romantic role? With a girl?" She took a hard gulp of her wine and set the glass on the coffee table. "In front of the whole school?"

  "Don't worry, Liu," he said emphatically, touching her arm. "Oh my God, Liu, you should have seen the other kids. They cheered so hard for him. They absolutely loved him!" He paused, thinking back to the sullen faces of Jared and Hunber. "Well, most of them."

  "I just had no idea. I've never heard him sing, not even in the shower."

  "Not the first time a singer has surprised me."

  Liu's hand reached his leg, her touch light but laden with appreciative kinship. "Cal, having you here... it means the world." She searched his eyes, their connection taking on new depths. She broke the spell with a chuckle against the momentous backdrop of the day. "You, directing a school play? You're supposed to be the one who hates kids." She patted his knee before she reached for her wine again.

  He shook his head with bewilderment. "Believe me, no one is more surprised than me, Liu. To be honest? I kind of like it. I might actually have a knack for it. It turns out they're not so scary after all." He turned, crossed his feet at the ankles on the coffee table, and clasped his hands behind his head, stretching his body out full-length with a sigh. "Who said I hated kids?" he joked.

  "You, like a hundred times. Hey," said Lu, as if she were about to share a juicy secret. "There’s something I want to tell you…it’s just that…we should...uh…” She hesitated then her tone lightened. “We should pour us another glass and celebrate. Make a toast." She started to reach across the back of the couch to graze his neck with her hand, but he stood up, oblivious to the shift in tone.

  "Naw. I am beat," he said, standing and str etching his arms up high. "I'm just gonna turn in. Lots to do tomorrow.”

  "Oh. Of course...Mr. Bigtime director," she said teasingly. "Sleep well, Cal. Really, though. I'm proud of you"

  He yawned as he nodded and retreated to his room. The house settled around him, and Liu's encouraging words lingered, a warm echo playing among the cricket song outside his window. As he drifted off to sleep, he was not aware that a glimmer of smile was returning to his life.