Kennedy POV
The backstage buzzed like a hive ready to explode. Costumes rustled, last-minute lines were whispered, and the smell of hairspray lingered in the air thick as fog. My heart thudded in my chest, a traitorous beat that hadn’t changed since freshman year. No matter how many shows I’d done, the nerves always came. Clawing, tight, insistent.
“Hold still, babe,” Marty said, squinting one eye as she dabbed highlighter above my cheekbones. “You’ve got this, like always.”
I nodded, trying to breathe through the tightness in my chest. She fluffed my curls—styled into a wild mess for the role. I wore a corseted dress with puffed sleeves and an apron smeared with fake flour and soot. I looked ridiculous. And yet... perfect.
“There,” Marty declared with a smirk. “Mrs. Lovett’s ready to
