Well, here I go again, and I'm going back to the NA 
names with this one again.  This story is most definitely set in an 
alternate universe, (what else is new?) and it's actually based on 
true life experiences, so you may find it a little odd.  What's the 
point of literary license if you don't use it? ^_^ I use Serena and 
Darien (& Lita) in place of other people, to protect the innocent.  
(ha! If it were only that.)
	Thanks to Jade for encouraging me to write most of this 
in the first place, and Sailor Walnut for encouraging me to finish it.  
I hope you like it, and please, if you have anything you'd like to 
say about this, tell me! I'd love to know!





	Hello.  My name is Serena, and I am a techie.
	What in the world is a 'techie,' you ask?  Well, I'd be 
happy to tell you, that is, if you have the time.  It's going to take 
a while to explain all the details, especially the parts where I might 
wander off track into my own experiences, so I would suggest you 
make yourself comfortable, perhaps get a snack or two, and 
prepare to transport yourself into the world that is not usually 
talked about in public--the world behind the scenes--the backstage.



"A Glimpse Behind the Scenes" 
by Sailor Elysia
[julcie@juno.com]



"Scene One"


	I suppose I should start at the beginning, after all, that is 
the only place that makes the most sense.  

	It all began during my junior year of high school.  It was 
the time that everyone was registering for next year's classes.  I 
couldn't believe it.  I, Serena Tsukino, was finally going to be a 
senior.  

	Moving the summer between my junior and senior years 
didn't help very much.  I had to leave all my friends behind, and I 
had wanted to complete my three years at the same school, but my 
father getting a new job prevented that.  I had to go to the new 
school to register during one of my regular school days, and it felt 
strange to be standing in a different school while I knew I should 
be attending class at another place across town.  

	I glanced at the list of classes being offered.  I wanted 
something new, something that would really interest me.  A class 
that didn't require just sitting mindlessly in a desk all day listening 
to a teacher drone on and on about nothing.
	Oh, but where was I?  Oh, yes, I was standing there, 
considering my options for the forthcoming year.  Suddenly my 
eyes grasped a phrase at the bottom of the page that I hadn't seen 
before--"Stage Production."  This was new. . . I hadn't heard about 
this course before.  What exactly was stage production, anyway? 
Did people learn how to build stages or something? What kind of a 
class was that to offer in high school?

	I started to go through the list again, but I kept going back 
to the bottom of the page.  Something about that little phrase had 
captured my interest, more than I thought it would.  What the hey, 
I'll give it a shot.  

	Little did I know how much those words I uttered in my 
mind would change my life forever.


		~*~*~*~*~*~


	Today was the beginning of the rest of my life.  After 
dreaming all through the torture known as junior high and my 
sophomore and junior years of high school, the big day had finally 
arrived.  Senior year, here I come!

	I had totally forgotten about the classes I had chosen last 
spring, that is, until I looked at my schedule card.  All the required 
classes were there, even though I was opposed to any form of class 
that required large amounts of homework.  But there, at the bottom 
of the list, were those two little words that had struck a chord in 
my brain--stage production.

	I went through the first day in a blur--it was all so routine 
to me after nearly twelve years, all the rules, procedures and 
traditional disclaimers.  Lunch was all right, but not really knowing 
anyone yet made me feel uncomfortable.  That, and everyone kept 
staring at my hair.  Hey, just because I wear my hair slightly 
different than everyone else was no cause to stare at me for a 
prolonged amount of time.  I knew in time that I would make 
friends, but still I had an empty feeling sitting alone.

	Finally, the time came for me to find my stage production 
class.  I walked down the long hallway at the north end of the 
school (it took me forever to find it!), and came to a large metal 
door with a sign posted above it.  "Scene Shop."  Well, this had to 
be it.  I pulled the heavy door open with a creak, and slipped 
through before it had a chance to slam on my fingers.

	Immediately, the combined smells of freshly cut wood 
and paint fumes permeated the air, and left me light-headed for a 
moment.  As I glanced around the large, empty room resembling a 
basement, silence greeted me.  I could hear voices carrying through 
another large metal door, leading to what I assumed to be the stage 
itself.

	Cautiously, I slung my backpack over my shoulder, 
walked down the concrete steps, and through the entrance out onto 
the stage.  What I saw out there was the last thing I had expected.  
A group of four people, all of them guys, talking about nothing in 
particular.  Now, I had never been in this kind of situation where I 
was the minority; it had always been the other way around.

	I took another step closer to the group standing down 
center stage, trying to make as little noise as possible.  
Unfortunately, my shoe kicked a discarded screw across the floor, 
and its metallic sound echoed off the walls, as well as in every ear 
of the guys standing in the group.

	Four heads came up, and stared coldly in my direction.  
Never had I felt such a feeling of exclusion.  It was if I was the 
enemy threatening to close in on their territory.  What else could I 
do, but stare right back at them?  I wasn't going to allow them to 
cast me off at first glance.  I wanted them to give me a chance to 
prove I was just as good as them.

	One of them stepped forward, the tallest of them all, with 
a shock of black hair falling into his eyes, glancing down at a paper 
in his hand.  "Serena, right?"  I nodded.  "My name's Darien, and 
I'm the stage manager this year.  These are the other guys in the 
class.  Tim," he said, pointing to a tall, lanky guy who looked more 
like an overgrown kid than a man; "Mike," average-looking with 
short blond hair and glasses, "and Adam." He was slightly larger 
than the rest.  He reminded me of a football player, but his 
demeanor didn't suggest it.  The one called Darien looked at his list 
again.  "There'll be another girl in the class, a 'Lita' someone, but 
she won't be here till tomorrow."

	"Good to meet you guys," I finally blurted out.  I was still 
slightly in shock, and couldn't get any other words past my lips.  
"So. . . Serena, is it? How much do you know about building sets?" 
I turned to one of the guys behind me--Adam.  Yeah, that was it.  
I'd learn their names one of these days, considering it had only 
been five minutes since I was introduced to them.  "And what's 
with the funky hairdo?"  Tim snickered.  I'd been teased many 
times about my hair; this wasn't anything new.
	"Um. . . sets? For what exactly?"

	"For musicals, plays, that sort of thing.  Have you ever 
done anything in theatre before?"

	Theatre?  So *that's* what this was all about.  "Well, I 
was in a couple of plays at my old school, and I helped paint a few 
things, but other than that, not much," I admitted.  I turned back to 
Tim.  "And as for my hair, I like wearing it this way." I was in no 
mood to start another name-calling session.  The kids at my old 
school were professionals at it by now.
	"Well, that's the whole reason for this class," Darien said, 
returning to the subject at hand.  "We're here to learn and create the 
best-looking sets this school has ever seen.  We'll start on the 
actual set for the upcoming musical tomorrow.  Today, we're just 
taking a tour of the stage so we can get acquainted with the 
surroundings."

	I fell into step behind the rest of the group as we walked 
around the stage and its surrounding areas.  I looked up towards 
the ceiling, and took in the sight of a mess of wires, metal poles, 
and black curtains suspended in the air.  Just beyond that, I could 
faintly see grid-like supports at the very top of the stage.  "What's 
all that for?" I said, pointing to all the stuff hanging above our 
heads.

	"That's the fly system.  We'll go over that equipment later 
on.  And as for the grid, I'm saving that trip for later.  We'll be 
going up there near the end of the tour," came Darien's reply.

	Did he just say. . . up? I'm not afraid of heights or 
anything, but I've never fancied going more than six feet in the air.  
And he was talking about more than 60 feet!  What had I gotten 
myself into?


		~*~*~*~*~*~


	All right, all right, so it wasn't as bad as I thought.  
In fact, it was pretty fun.

	Tim, Mike, and Adam all went up before me, talking to 
each other, without a care in the world.  I guess Darien could sense 
I had some misgivings about going up so high, so he started 
climbing the ladder after me, giving me reassurance most of the 
way.  Slowly, my confidence (and my stomach) returned as we 
went higher and higher into the rafters.  As I grasped the top rail of 
the ladder, Adam and Mike pulled me up onto the grid.  It was 
dark, and smelled musty.  Dust flew everywhere as I brushed off 
my jeans. 

	"Watch out for the ground wires, I don't want any 
accidents on my hands," Darien called out.  We stepped cautiously 
over the wires connected to the metal poles down below, and made 
our way over to the other side of the stage.

	I was the last one in line to make it over, and just as luck 
would have it, my foot found one of the hidden wires, and I fell 
forward.  That is, until I fell into someone's arms.  I looked up 
gratefully into a pair of shocking blue eyes.  "You all right?" 
Darien asked, as he helped me back to my feet.  I nodded.  "Yeah, 
just a little klutz attack, that's all."

	The other three had already gone down the ladder by this 
time.  "You know, this is just one of those places I would not want 
to get stuck in, especially in the dark," I commented, as I went 
down the ladder last, Darien below me, making sure I didn't have 
another klutzy moment.  I could hear the smile in his voice as he 
replied, "the grid's not all that bad, once you get used to it.  You 
won't have to come up here all that often anyway.  Most of the 
work we do as a stage crew is on and backstage."

	When we got back down to the stage floor, Adam, Tim, 
and Mike all had their backpacks on, ready to leave.  I grabbed my 
bag from the corner and slung it over my shoulder as well.  "Today 
was fun, guys.  Now you are all officially techies." Darien commented, 
as he put on his backpack.

	"Techies? What the heck is that?" I questioned.

	"It refers to us, the stage crew.  You know, actors have all 
their different cliques, and so should the technical theatre people.  
So, we came up with 'techies'.  Going up on the grid was our form 
of initiation," Mike responded, the first real words I had heard out 
of him all day.

	"Tomorrow we'll have the design for the musical, and 
we'll really get to work then.  See you all tomorrow!" and the four 
of them went their separate ways.  I stood there alone for a 
moment, really wondering what I had gotten myself into.  Then I 
walked out the same door I had come through earlier, knowing that 
tomorrow would only bring more surprises.


		~*~*~*~*~*~

"Scene Two"


	So much has happened since that first day.  I've become 
better friends with the guys, and they even started to accept me 
into their little group.

	The other girl, Lita, showed up the second day, and we hit 
it off immediately.  I guess with us being the only girls in the class, 
it formed an unspoken bond between us.  She had a lot more 
knowledge in theatre than I did, and she taught me most of what 
she knew along the way.  She always had some new creative lunch 
with her too, and never hesitated to give me a taste of what she had 
prepared that day.  

	From my first impression of her she seemed to be one of 
those girls you didn't want to mess with, and the guys knew it from 
the start.  Although I didn't know much about her personal life, I 
could tell she'd been through a lot of difficult situations by the way 
she reacted around different people.  

	I've also learned a bunch of new terms relating to the art 
of technical theatre.  Once I thought a 'scoop' referred to ice cream, 
but now I know it's a certain light used on stage.  Also, a 'leg' is no 
longer a part of the body, but refers to the curtains on each side of 
the stage.  Sometimes they're also called "wings."  And now my 
right and left are no longer my right and left.  They're the opposite 
when you're on stage.  Confused yet? I know I was.

	But I digress.  It was nearly two months to the day since I 
had first walked backstage, and now, we were almost ready to 
open the first musical of the school year, 'Seven Brides for Seven 
Brothers.' I hadn't heard of the musical before we started working 
on it, but to this day I'll never forget it.

	You must think that from my description, stage crew is all 
fun and games.  Well, let me tell you right now, it isn't.  Unless 
you think 6:00 am rehearsals and building sets until 10:00 at night 
for three weeks straight is fun, you've seriously got another think 
coming.  Sure, we made it interesting, playing music during our 
building sessions; throwing candy across the stage to each other 
(and on the actors we didn't like!) during rehearsals when the 
director and actors weren't looking, but constant changes from the 
director, and being yelled at for mistakes we didn't make wasn't 
fun at all.

	The set for this musical consisted of quite a few parts, 
since they had to travel on and off stage often.  The biggest of 
these was the two-story house unit, which required about ten 
people to get it moving and push it off stage left.  That's how heavy 
it was.

	Before I go into any more details about the show, I should 
tell you about our dilemma with the floor crew, the ones 
responsible for moving the sets on and off stage.  Usually, a good 
floor crew consists of ten to fifteen people.  We had four techies, 
plus the occasional help of an actor or two.  Lita and me were on 
stage right, while Adam and Darien were on stage left.  Tim and 
Mike were running the lights and sound in the booth upstairs.

	We were severely limited when it came to moving the 
sets, and for some reason, the director thought it was our fault.  
I don't know where she got that idea.  Still, we managed to pull it 
off, and we did a dang good job of it, too.

	This is the point in the story where I'm going to sidetrack 
a bit and go into a more personal matter, because I only feel it's fair 
to let you in on my little secret.  If I didn't, you would be even 
more confused, if you aren't already.  It'll make more sense as the 
story progresses.

	You see, during the course of preparing for the musical, we 
as a crew hung out together more than usual.  We had to, 
because there was a lot of work to get done.  Well, during one of 
our late night set-building sessions, Kim--one of the chorus 
members as well as a good friend of mine--and I were sitting on 
the stair unit before we put it back into the place where we stored it 
after each show.  We were discussing various things about the 
musical, and somehow we got onto the topic of guys.  Most of the 
actors were quite good-looking; no one could dispute that.  As she 
got up and left, and I began to put the stair unit away, a voice on 
the other side of the stage distracted me momentarily.  I 
immediately knew who the voice belonged to, so I looked up and 
over at Darien, watching him go over that evening's notes with the 
director. 
 
	Okay, I know you're saying, "what's the big deal?  It's 
kind of hard to ignore people who are talking loudly."  And you're 
right.  But not this time.  

	When I glanced at Darien that night, it was if one of the 
stage lights was shining directly on him.  I saw him differently 
than I ever had seen him before.  I remembered all the times where 
he had smiled at me, and the way he said my name.  And the time 
when he helped me up on the grid.

	All of this came together at one single moment, and 
processed a single thought in my brain.  Kim had briefly brought 
up the fact how nice Darien was, not to mention he was pretty 
good-looking.  I admitted as well, Darien *was* nice.  But not just 
nice, he was dang gorgeous!  Why hadn't I noticed it before?  At 
first, I regarded him as a friend, a fellow techie.  But all logic 
slipped past my mind as I continued to stare at him.  I'm a girl, he's 
a guy.  Hello, Serena, why have you been so blind?

	I didn't want to make it seem like I was openly staring at 
him, so I would glance at him out of the corner of my eye, taking 
in every sight of him that I could.  What in the world was my heart 
doing?  I had never ever felt this way about anyone before, not 
even about the guys at my old school.  Every time I felt him near 
me, or he worked beside me, my blood would rush through my 
veins, and I could swear that my face was flushed with color the 
entire night.

	I did everything I could just to work near him  to see if 
my feelings weren't just playing a trick on me.  They weren't.  
I would hold the boards for him, get the hammer, or more screws if 
he asked for them.  I was also careful to make sure he didn't notice 
my sudden change of behavior.  At least, I don't think he noticed.  
Now that would have been a disaster!

	We said our usual good-byes, like we did every time we 
finished for the night.  Even his 'goodbye' didn't sound like an 
ordinary goodbye to me anymore.  His rich, deep voice echoed 
through my ears, and didn't leave until I had fallen asleep later that 
night.


		~*~*~*~*~*~


	Opening night was here.  And we were ready for it.  After 
a month of rehearsing, the four of us knew every cue, every spike 
mark that we could probably run through the show in our sleep.  
It was nearly impossible for something to go wrong.

	Funny how your words can come back to haunt you.


		~*~*~*~*~*~


	Granted, the audience never knew what was going on, and 
we were certainly lucky they couldn't see past the wings.  Props 
got broken just before they were to go on stage, actors were 
fooling around with scenery, and once the lights came up too early, 
rushing Darien and Mike to set up their props, and then jumping 
through the kitchen window of the set to prevent from being seen 
by the audience.

	Of course, I didn't escape this production without a little 
mishap of my own.  You see, I was in charge of running the porch 
unit on one side of the stage, then running it back when the scene 
was done.  My moment in the spotlight, if you will, lasted less than 
a minute.  But at least I got something done.

	Recently we had been having some problems with 
scenery catching on the wings and causing large rips in them 
because we had to move them across the stage so fast.  So we 
started having someone hold the curtains back so we could push 
the sets through and back into the alcove.

	Anyway, back to performance night.  My oh-so important 
part had just finished, and there I was, running the porch unit back 
to stage right as fast as I could, just like I had in previous 
rehearsals.

	What happened next was not my fault, and all I can say in 
my defense is that it was dark.  The only thing on my mind was 
getting back to my side of the stage before the lights came up for 
the next scene.  I could see the wing being held back so I could 
push the set through.

	Little did I know that the person holding back the wings 
was still in my way.  I heard a distinct "thud," and immediately I 
stopped pushing.  I peeked around the corner, and to my horror, I 
saw Darien holding his head, eyes closed tightly, his face winced 
in pain.

	I had just smacked the stage manager (the very gorgeous-
looking stage manager, I might add) directly in the head with a 
very heavy porch unit.  Something tells me no one else could ever 
list *that* on their resume.

	For weeks I felt awful about it, even though no permanent 
damage had been done.  He just kept on with his cheery, ever-
helping, "can't help but *really* liking him" personality.  And I 
certainly couldn't complain about that.


			~*~*~*~*~*~

"Intermission"


	The school year was passing by, much too quickly for my 
liking if you ask me.  It was now the beginning of the second 
semester, which meant I had new classes.

	The best thing about this new schedule was that my 
favorite person in the entire world happened to be in my first 
period class.  Yep, you guessed it.  And even better, I sat right 
behind Darien.  So, not only did I get to work with him on 
backstage, I also got to know the back of his head quite well.  You 
know, after I had already hit the front of his head, what more could 
I do to him?  (Don't answer that.)  What was even more ironic, was 
that Adam and Lita also had this same class in the morning.  So, 
we all sat in the back corner of the room in what we affectionately 
dubbed the "techie" corner."

	Winter had fallen upon us by this point, and this year, it 
turned out be a heavier winter than usual.  This caused problems.  
One morning, it snowed over three feet in a total of five hours, 
which was cause enough for the schools to close.  But oh, no, the 
administration didn't listen, and made us, the poor, defenseless 
high-schoolers go to school anyway!  Remember those stories your 
grandparents always told about the "walking uphill, both ways, 
barefoot in six feet of snow?"  Well, chances are they weren't 
exaggerating.

	Anyway, I was a trooper, only because my mother 
dragged me out of bed, but that's beside the point.  When I finally 
got to the school, I found that I was the first senior to arrive in my 
first class of the day.  I had pulled myself out of a warm bed for 
*this?*

	Just then, I felt a cold breeze rush over me, and as the 
goosebumps tingled on my arms, I turned towards the door to see 
who had let the frigid air into the building, and who should I find 
standing there but the only person that could really make my day.

	"Darien! You made it!" I said loudly, perhaps a little too 
eagerly.  He just flashed his gorgeous smile, and that was enough 
for me.  Goosebumps immediately disappeared, replaced with a 
warm feeling slowly thawing any cold in my body I had felt 
earlier.  I walked to the classroom beside him, while glancing in 
his direction slightly.

	He sat down in his usual desk, and I took the one behind 
him as always.  No one else had shown up yet, and it didn't look 
like anyone was going to try to battle Mother Nature.

	We didn't really talk all that much during class time, only 
if the teacher was boring we would throw in our little smart-aleck 
comments now and then.  It seemed to spice up the lesson for us, I 
guess.  The best thing for me was if I could make Darien laugh 
with my added comments.

	We went our separate ways after first period, he to his 
Japanese class and me to my ever-boring interior design class.  
The day just seemed to lag on, probably because not many people 
had shown up for school and there wasn't anyone else to see.

	By the time sixth period had rolled around, it was just 
Darien, Adam, and me.  No one else had bothered to show up.  
There was nothing for us to do, no plays or musicals to work on, 
the scene shop was even clean (which is a very rare thing, believe 
me) so they all decided to go over to Darien's to watch a movie or 
do something.  I tagged along, for two reasons mainly, one, 
because I was just as bored as they were, and two, I jumped at the 
chance to go to Darien's house.

	When we got to his house, however, a slight problem 
confronted us.  The driveway was buried under a huge snowdrift, 
and the only way for us to get near the house was for us to shovel 
through it.  As they grabbed shovels out of the garden shed, Darien 
turned to me.  "So what are you going to do?"

	"What do you mean?" I replied, somewhat puzzled.

	"While me and Adam shovel the driveway.  What are you 
going to do?"

	I looked at him as if he was crazy.  What did he think, that 
because I was female that I didn't know how to handle a shovel?  
Didn't my being on crew prove *anything* to him?  "I'm going to 
help you, of course.  I'm just as good at shoveling as you are."

	He looked surprised for a moment, then grinned and 
handed me an extra pair of gloves, a headband to keep my ears 
warm, and another shovel.


			~*~*~*~*~*~


	Three and a half hours later, only half of the driveway had 
been cleared.  Maybe that was due to the fact that we kept getting 
into snowball fights, but you can't be out in the snow without 
throwing it, now can you?  I had no idea how much snow could 
weigh so much!  Even when I helped my father with our own 
driveway, it didn't seem this bad.  My back was starting to ache, 
and I couldn't even feel my toes, it was so cold.

	Darien threw another pile of snow off to the side, then 
leaned on his shovel, breathing heavily, his breath visible in the 
frosty air.  "What do you guys say we take a break and get some 
hot chocolate?"  Adam and I quickly agreed, and stuck our shovels 
in the snowdrift.  Knowing me, I've never been one to pass up any 
kind of food!

	We trudged through the snow we had yet to clear away 
from the front steps, and walked inside.  This was the first time I 
had ever been inside his house, and I took it all in quickly as he led 
us to the kitchen.  He pulled out two chairs for us, and we sat in 
two large wooden chairs, while he grabbed the hot chocolate mix.  

	Needless to say, the hot chocolate definitely warmed us 
up, enough to finish the rest of the driveway.  Of course, we didn't 
resist the temptation of another snowball fight or two.  Actually, 
most of the time, I stood and watched, laughing hysterically while 
Darien and Adam pushed each other into the huge piles of snow.  

	Just being there warmed me up as much as the hot 
chocolate did.  Just knowing he considered me a friend made me 
feel like I was on top on the world.  And if Darien had pushed me 
into the snow, I wouldn't have cared.  

		~*~*~*~*~*~


	I'm sure you're wondering by now what everything I've 
told you has to deal with stage crew.  It has quite a bit, actually.  
These experiences only made my time on stage crew more 
memorable.  Without them, I don't think I would've enjoyed it as 
much as I did.

	Anyway, back to the story.  Winter wasn't the only 
problem we as a crew were dealing with at the moment.  It was 
time for the annual play, and as usual, we weren't given a lot of 
time to consider and build a good set.  What we did build all right, 
but it wasn't our best.  In fact, we were so short on time that we 
finished painting the set five minutes before the house opened on 
opening night.

	The play chosen for that year, "The Curious Savage," was 
something about these people living in an insane asylum who 
really weren't crazy, only according to the world's viewpoint.  It 
takes an elderly lady placed in the asylum by her money-hungry 
children to discover the inner beauty of these child-like people.  

	Somehow I felt like this play was describing my life.  
I was surrounded by people who had amazing abilities, yet the 
world saw them for lazy people who liked to hang out backstage 
instead of working more.  Oh, if they only knew. . .


		~*~*~*~*~*~

"Scene Four"


	I rolled over as the alarm clock blared loudly from across 
the room.  5:30 am.  I groaned, and contemplated staying in bed for 
another hour.  But my mind won the battle, reminding me why I 
had set the alarm so early in the first place.

	It was for one of those infamous early-morning, before 
school rehearsals slash quick tech run.  We only had two weeks 
before the show opened, which was not a lot of time in theatre 
terms, and any extra time we could find was a big help.  We still 
had not been able to please the director with our set ideas, so here 
we were, scrambling to create a realistic set in less than two weeks.  
And to top it all off, our play was being showcased at the annual 
state-wide theatre convention, which meant we had to throw 
together yet another *portable* set in less than a week.  And you 
thought that theatre wasn't all that complicated.

	I jumped out of bed, threw on a sweater and jeans, and 
stumbled into the bathroom, washed my face enough to get rid of 
the sleepy-eyed look, then ran into the kitchen.  It's amazing how 
much faster I get ready for school when I'm pressed for time.  

	I made the twenty-minute walk to the school in about 
fifteen.  If only I could do that every day.  Walking around the 
back of the school, and finding the outer door to the scene shop 
propped open with a scrap of wood, I carefully pulled the door 
open, and peeked inside.  

	The place was littered with odds and ends of wood scraps, 
paint cans and screws.  It looked like a tornado had blown through, 
leaving no survivors.  We were lucky to make it out of there each 
day without being handing a new chore to our already over-
flowing list.

	"Hello?" I called, my words echoing off the cold cement 
walls.  I heard a faint reply from the stage.  At least someone else 
was here.  I hated to work alone. I set my backpack down on the 
floor in our makeshift green room, and turned to go out on stage, 
when the body belonging to the voice I had heard earlier was 
suddenly standing in front of me.

	"Hi Serena," Darien replied, his usual smile on his face, 
the ball cap he always wore to the morning rehearsals shoved on 
his head.  He walked over and sat down on a frame of the set that 
we had yet to assemble.  I followed him, trying extremely hard not 
to make anything seem obvious.  He commented on his new 
sweatshirt, I agreed that it looked really nice on him.  Would you 
expect anything else from me?  I wish I could remember what else 
we had talked about, if I had, would it have made any difference?  
I don't know.  But I know I got to sit next to him, even for a short 
moment, and that was enough for me.  

	Soon after, Tim showed up, followed by Adam and Mike.  
Lita hadn't been able to make it that morning, she had some prior 
commitment or other.  Later she told me it was a commitment to 
sleep in longer.  If she didn't feel like coming in the early morning, 
she wouldn't, and she didn't care what the guys thought.  I wish I 
had had a nerve like hers.


		~*~*~*~*~*~

	The play was a success, and sadly, it was all over now.  
No more early morning or late night rehearsals, or skipping class to 
finish painting the set.  [That's an entirely *different* story, one 
that I'll tell another time.]  I'll always have the great memories and 
friendships, but never another senior year to relive like this one.

	By the end of February, we and the rest of the senior class 
(actually the entire school) became infected with a disease.  Spring 
fever had set in, although we referred to it as 'senioritis'.  It was 
that feeling you got when you were absolutely sick and tired of 
being in school every day.  We didn't have any plays or even 
assemblies to worry about.  And that, my friends, leave us techies 
more antsy than usual.  
	It was also one of those times that a girl waits for her 
entire high school life.  There are only a few other events that can 
surpass this time, and so far, I hadn't experienced any of them.  So 
this one was especially important.  I'd never have this chance 
again.

	Senior Prom.


		~*~*~*~*~*~


	There was still a week before Prom, and I still had high 
hopes that I would be asked.  There had to be at least one guy out 
there who was interested in me, and I kept hoping it would be the 
guy I wanted it to be.  I even had my mother plan to make me a 
dress, because I couldn't find anything in the shops that I liked.

	For a few weeks now, I'd been having this recurring 
dream.  It wasn't very long, but just long enough to make me 
constantly hope that it would come true.  I was at the prom, in the 
beautiful dress I had imagined a thousand times, my hair perfect, 
dancing away with the guy of my dreams.  And if you don't know 
who that is by now, I'd say you haven't been listening very 
carefully.

	What really happened?  Practically the opposite.  The first 
thing that went wrong was when the subject of prom came up at 
the end of the day, during one of our hour and a half class periods, 
where the entire backstage was spotless for once, and no shows 
were going on.  

	There was silence for a moment, then Mike spoke up.  
"Hey, Darien, have you asked anyone to prom yet?"  We all knew 
Mike had a huge crush on Lita, and he had asked her out just the 
other day.  My ears perked up at the words 'Darien' and 'prom', and 
I glanced in his direction, then looked away again.  Did I have 
even a remote chance?

	Darien looked uncomfortable, then tried to change the 
subject.  "Um. . . not really, Mike.  I hadn't thought much about it."  
Easy for him to say.  Then there's me, who's only been dwelling on 
it for the past month.

	Adam joined in.  "Aww, c'mon, Darien, I know you.  
There's got to be someone you'd like to take.  What's holding you 
back?"

	Then to make things worse, Tim started throwing out 
names of girls they all knew that hadn't been asked.  It was all I 
could to not stand up in front of Darien, and clue him in that I was 
practically dying for him to ask me.  I probably should have.  But, 
no, being the quiet one, I just sat there and watched the guys put 
him in the hot seat.


		~*~*~*~*~*~

"Scene Five"


	There are no words to describe what I felt, but I will say 
that my once wonderful dream had turned into a nightmare.

	The day: Friday, the night of prom.  And where was I, 
you wonder?  That all depends on the time.  I don't know what I 
was thinking, but I guess I was just trying to be nice.  No one knew 
about my feelings for Darien, and he certainly didn't.  I wasn't 
about to tell anyone, either.  It was just too much to deal with.

	Have I lost you?  I'm sorry, but it's still a little hard 
for me to think back on what happened.  Oh, and if you're curious, no, 
I didn't go to prom.  But I should explain something about that first.

	Friday afternoon, I decided to help Lita get ready for her 
date.  It was as close as I would get to going, and I thought it 
would help me get my mind off the misery I was feeling.  That, 
and I knew that she was grouping with Darien and his date.  So I'd 
at least get another chance to see him.  The guys had pressured him 
into asking some girl they knew from the play.  In my opinion, she 
wasn't even pretty.

	I made my way over to Lita's apartment after school, with 
my camera in hand.  I had agreed to help her with her hair, and 
take a few pictures too.  When I got there, though, I found myself 
face-to-face with the girl who had shattered my dream.  I kept my 
feelings to myself, though, and went about on my seemingly 
'merry' way.

	To sum things up, Darien and Mike showed up a few 
hours later, looking *nothing* like the guys I worked with 
backstage.  Tuxedos seem to transform a person remarkably, and I 
wished with all my heart that I had been the one standing next to 
Darien.


	I stayed in the shadows of the hallway until Lita motioned 
to me to take another picture.  Darien finally noticed me then, and 
casually replied, "Hey, Serena," and flashed that gorgeous smile of 
his again.  I plastered a smile on my face, and proceeded to take a 
couple of shots of the two couples, then watched them walk out the 
door.  I waited a few minutes, then left the apartment as well.

	I cried myself to sleep that night.


		~*~*~*~*~*~


	The rest of the school year was winding down, and we 
had a few other productions we helped out with.  One more big 
performance from the advanced drama class, their "Mini-
Shakespearean" Festival, went over pretty well, considering it was 
outside, and we had to battle the forces of Mother Nature once 
more.  One time it started raining just as it ended, and we had to 
hurry and pull down all the equipment before it got ruined.

	Other assemblies came and went, including the last big 
one put on by the student body officers.  For the first time, I got to 
run follow-spot from the balcony, which was about as close as I 
got to running anything in lights.  The only other thing I'll mention 
about that is it was the only time I had ever lost my voice.  I'm not 
sure if the rest of the crew was rejoicing that I couldn't talk back or 
just laughing along with me because I sounded like a tortured frog.  
I'll admit, it was definitely a learning experience.

	Finally, it was the week of graduation.  Senioritis had set 
in so much by this time that many of the teachers didn't care if half 
the class didn't show up.  We ate lunch outside once again, and 
drank in the sun's rays, the anticipation of the forthcoming summer 
on everyone's mind.  Yearbook day was the same day as 
graduation, and it was a fun one, but it was also sad in a way, 
because I knew that I would never get another day like this.  

	That morning it rained, spoiling the mood and our big 
plans for the afternoon.  We scoured the halls of the high school, 
looking for anyone that was willing to sign our yearbooks.  I hadn't 
seen Darien or any of the other techies all morning, and I was 
beginning to wonder if they had even come, seeing that the day 
was totally an option.  I asked around, and finally found them 
backstage watching TV.  I don't know why I hadn't looked there 
before, I guess I was just caught up in all the fun.

	I handed my book around the group of guys, and signed 
each of theirs in turn, writing something that was unique to each of 
them.  When it came to Darien's, I wrote exactly what I was 
feeling, but I didn't make it seem to obvious.  Maybe I should 
have; it might have made a difference.  As they handed my book 
back to me, I opened it and scanned around for Darien's message, 
hoping he might've written something with a deeper meaning.  

	Not a chance.  It said, 'Crew was fun.  Thanks for partying 
with us in crew, thanks for all the help, you will do well in life and 
have a good time, we graduate in 7 hours, cool huh? See ya tonight 
at graduation.'

	To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.  
I appreciated the good wishes, but I had certainly been hoping for 
something--anything!--more from him.


		~*~*~*~*~*~


	It's been almost a year since I last saw him.  Even with the 
various times I've been with my other friends, I still never saw 
him, but I always asked.  I didn't know how I would handle going 
away to college and being away.  How would I react if I saw him 
again?  I honestly don't know.  Would my feelings still be the 
same?  It's possible.

	I guess the question that looms in my mind the most is if 
he ever realized how much I wanted more than just a friendly co-
worker, stage crew relationship.  I wanted a real relationship with 
him more than anything in the world.  I just didn't have the courage 
or the words to tell him.

	He was definitely my first major crush, and I know that's 
all it was.  That's all it could have been, because the feelings I hid 
inside were never mutual.  No wonder they call it a 'crush', because 
it literally does.

	Life will go on, but not without leaving a little bit of your 
heart behind.  









	Are you still here?  Wow, I didn't really think this story 
was going to be interesting enough.  This was hard to write, not 
only because it was basically a year of my life I had to remember, 
but also the feelings that it brought back to the surface.  If you 
want to know the full story [as if anyone could be *that* bored!] 
ask me and I'll be more than happy to tell you.
	I admit, this is just another distraction to give me more 
time on a much larger project I'm working on.  I want to thank all 
of you out there who have written me about various fics in the last 
few months; your words are what have kept me going.  To be 
honest, I find it really hard to believe that so many people like my 
writing.  I never thought I would find something I was good at and 
that I enjoy so much.  So thank you all again!
	You know what to do.  The addy's julcie@juno.com, and 
I'll be waiting to hear from those of you who really care.  [Just 
kidding!  I could never pull off that guilt trip! Just mail me if you 
want to, okay?]

Sailor Elysia
This fic copyright *me* September 1998, revised May 1999, and all 
characters from Sailor Moon are notmine , you know who owns them, k?  ^_~