a sound she hadn't heard before

twenty-three.

Time can be funny sometimes. It feels like it passes so slowly, but at the same time, it feels like you blink and suddenly a week has passed. That's how the final week of workshop rehearsals is. There's so much hard work, blood, sweat, and tears that goes into that week, but before anyone knows it, it's time to put up the first performance.

Taylor wakes up that morning probably more nervous than she has ever been in her life. This is nothing like when she used to tour, playing massive stadiums to tens of thousands of screaming fans. They were going to love her no matter what. They already knew the music and lyrics by heart. The tickets to the tour were already bought and there wasn't any questions. Her only job was to go out there and give shows, night after night. She had so much control when it was her own concert. She didn't have to prove anything. This is different. She's handing over the torch to her actors- who she absolutely trusts. It's just that this is so full of questions. The bids that they get from producers this week will determine the future of their show. There's a chance that they won't get any bids at all. There's a chance that a producer will come and want to fully fund them and send them straight to Broadway. Then, there's every option in between. They might need an out-of-town tryout. They might get partially funded but have to raise some more money themselves. There is so much that is open-ended about today, and that's what really scares Taylor.

Ayla, on the other hand, could not be more excited about the day ahead of her. She got to pick out a new dress and sparkly shoes for the occasion. Her mom wakes up early to do special braids in her hair. She will get to go out to lunch with Blake, Ryan, and the kids. She gets to go back to the city after not being there for so long. And above all, she gets to see the show that her mom has been working so hard on for what feels like forever now. She can't wait.

"Auntie Blake and Uncle Ryan are going to come and pick you up at the rehearsal studio in a little bit," Taylor explains to her daughter as they're in the car into the city, "but you're going to have to stay with me for an hour or so first. I brought your iPad so that you can play games while you wait, okay?" Taylor asks. The cast is going to get to the studio at around 10:00 for the 1:00 performance so that they can run through a few sticky spots a few more times, and implement a few final changes into the script and score. The actors have been champs, adapting so quickly and seamlessly to any and all adjustments that are thrown at them.

"Momma?"

"Yes sweetheart?"

"Do you think they'll have chicken nuggies at the restaurant?"

Taylor can't help but laugh. "I'm not sure where they're going to take you to eat, sweetie. If that's what you want, then you can tell Auntie Blake and she might be able to make that happen, but if they've already made reservations at a restaurant then you have to eat whatever is on the menu there, okay?"

Taylor knows that Blake's kids, especially James, who is the oldest, have a wider taste palette than Ayla does, but especially with a kids' menu, she can usually find something to eat at any restaurant, so Taylor doesn't worry about checking the menu of a restaurant before they go. Blake mentioned a restaurant a few days ago, but Taylor honestly doesn't remember the name of the place, or how set in stone the plans were.

Once they get to the parking garage, a bit of anxiety starts to set in with Taylor. "Ayla," she says, "I want you to put on your sunglasses for me."

"But it's rainy, momma."

"I know, but I want you to do it anyway. For your protection." Ayla hasn't been in New York since the day that somebody got those pictures of them. Taylor hasn't had any issues since, but she's still terrified. She slips her wig onto her head and bundles both of them up in big coats. Luckily, it's quite chilly today, so the coats won't draw any attention to them. "When we get onto the street, we are going to walk really quickly, alright? Hold my hand, promise?"