Rapunzel, Sophia Chen ‘24

Rapunzel

ACT ONE The spotlight overhead is blinding. I squint into it, blinking once, twice against the glow before I hear the music slowly drift from the curtains. The play is fairly simple. A version of Rapunzel, with me in a tall tower and my best friend, Ezra, playing the witch. Ezra creeps onto stage and I smile at her, one hand on my heart as I plead to be allowed to go outside. Ezra leaps into song. I follow her lead, dancing and singing and swaying to the beat. I’ve always enjoyed this part of the play best, where Ezra and I delight in each other. Where Rapunzel is so joyful. Though I know the storm is coming later, I don’t hold back as I sing.

ACT TWO We practice the scene with the prince today—my prince. Callum waves to me, winks at me, not Rapunzel. I beam back, not acting anymore as I sing about our love. This part is fun as well. We giggle as we escape, gasp as we hide, and as we grow closer I feel my chest grow light. His cedar scent always gives me butterflies. We end on a high note, before everything comes crashing down.

ACT THREE Ezra is late to rehearsal, again. I am worried that she will make the director angry, especially since she nearly dropped out after not getting the lead, the role she wanted. I feel slightly guilty for taking the spot she so desperately pursued, but surely we are over it by now. Ezra finally arrives, her cherry lip gloss smudged, and we practice the scene where I shove her out of the tower onto the soft moss below. We have to keep doing it over and over. The director is not satisfied with Ezra’s fall, with my push. She says it doesn’t look realistic enough. Ezra is afraid of falling, I can tell. Her hands are tight, and the lightest of touches from me causes her back to go rigid. It’s a soft fall. If she braces herself right, she will be fine, even if she misses the mattress we laid out to be the moss. And so I watch her fall, so I push her down, again and again and again.

INTERMISSION Ezra has canceled the last three study dates I had planned, and I’m starting to wonder where she’s going. I try to call Callum instead but I get nothing but radio silence from both of them.

ACT FOUR A kiss for good luck before the show, is what I tell Callum, but he tastes of cherries and I frown. A hug for good luck, is what Ezra tells me, but she smells like cedar and my stomach twists. The first half goes smoothly, but my voice is not quite as loud. It’s not until intermission when I find undeniable proof: a photo, taken by a classmate; a photo of Ezra and Callum; a photo, a photo, a photo. Her lips, on his. I think I scream.

ACT FIVE The mattress is missing. No one can find it. ‘Just brace yourself’ the director says. ‘Like you did at rehearsal. You’ll be fine.’ Ezra shrugs but her knuckles are white. I am too angry to look at her, but on stage, all I am is in character. I come to the top of the tower, ready to push her off. She’s singing her part, something desperate and high-pitched, trailing behind the beat. I can’t wait for her to finish, there’s my cue, the music swells— I shove her hard, my anger exploding out in a gush, her surprised face entirely real. She wasn’t ready. What have I done? She’s in a panic, her limbs flail, she crashes onto the ground. There’s a sickening crunch but it’s hidden by the music, buried by the effects. What have I done? She’s sprawled out on the ground and the audience’s applause is a roar in my ears. I look up in desperation. How could they believe it fake? The play ends. The music stops. The stage fades to darkness.

Sophia Chen ‘24 Scholastic Silver Key