Callum
“How’s the lighting?” I barked back to Thomas, following behind the stage with a clipboard.
“All good.”
“And sound?”
“They reported, no hick ups in the mics.”
I was ducking behind a tapestry with Thomas, both of us just having checked security routes while also happening to dodging Bianca’s gravitational pull. She'd been orbiting all night, waiting to lock me into some perfectly rehearsed dance or photo or future.
But I had work to do.
“You're going to have to talk to her eventually,” Thomas muttered, straightening the collar of his formal jacket like it might shield him from Bianca's inevitable wrath beyond the stage.
“Eventually implies there's still time,” I said, checking my watch. “I'm on borrowed minutes.”
He snorted. “You planned this entire event. Shouldn’t yo
