Melody kept the twins busy with chores the next day. It was slave labor: restocking shelves, hanging up signs, and cleaning. So much cleaning.

Mabel was convinced Melody was trying to fill up all their time to prevent them from working on the laptop — or going in to see Ford, who was essentially in quarantine. Dipper told her she was being paranoid.

Around noon, they were able to break for lunch. Melody handed them delicious avocado tuna sandwiches with a smile and a pat at the head.

"She's deviously evil," Mabel said, taking an angry bite of her sandwich and scowling at Melody's retreating form.

"Oh come on, Mabel, Melody needs the extra help with Ford being so sick."

Mabel viciously tore another bite out of her sandwich. It tasted heavenly.

"Besides," Dipper continued, "weren't you just going to wait until rehearsal tonight, anyway? So Melody won't see?"

"She never comes up to our room," Mabel grumbled.

"Yeah, but she asks about you when you disappear for too long."

Mabel kept taking big bites of her sandwich and didn't respond.

Finally, it was evening, and they were released. Mabel and Dipper scarfed down dinner and then ran upstairs to get ready.

Dipper rifled through his dresser. "Gabby says that techies wear all black, but since I'm a spotlighter I won't be seen and it doesn't really matter. Should I wear it anyway? To look the part?" He took out a long-sleeved black shirt and held it up to one of his blue tees.

On the other side of the room, Mabel was busy wrapping the laptop and Journal in blankets and shopping bags. Just in case.

Melody grabbed them to kiss them on the cheek before they left, but thankfully didn't say anything about Mabel's bundle. The twins, who were slightly late, bustled out the door and into the cold and hurried to the theater.

The large double doors were unlocked. Voices carried to them as soon as they pulled them open.

" — And I don't know why that fly was late but I don't want it to happen again. Who's in charge of it?"

"That's Mr. Bartosic, the director," Dipper said in a loud whisper. "We'd better sneak in."

They crept through the empty lobby. Mabel stared around at the ornate chandeliers and the slightly peeling wallpaper.

"Woah," she said. "This place is definitely haunted."

They passed through another set of double doors, this time leading to the stage.

"Who's in charge of Fly Thirteen during — oh, good, there you are. What happened?"

A tall man with a full blond beard was standing in front of a line of people, all sitting on the edge of the stage, dressed in dresses and bloomers and corsets. The man stared expectantly at a woman in front of him, who looked calmly back.

"Sorry," the woman said. "I don't think I can make it work with my costume change. Maybe if someone was helping me, but even then. . . ."

"There's Gabby." Dipper pointed. Mabel followed his finger. Abigail sat almost directly in the center of the group. "C'mon."

"Dipper wait, I don't want to disrupt — "

"Oh good, spotlighter, you're here." Too late. The director had noticed them. "Who's this?"

"Hi, Mr. Bartosic!" Dipper said. "Sorry I'm late. This is my sister Mabel. She's just hanging out with me."

Mr. Bartosic's eyes narrowed, and Mabel squirmed under his gaze.

"I hope she's not here to try to get a free show."

"N-no," Mabel stammered. "I just need a place to, um. . . study."

"Study?" Gabby called. "It's winter break!"

Mabel shrugged helplessly.

"Well, welcome," Mr. Bartosic said, though he didn't sound too cheerful about it. "Just make sure not to distract my actors or anything."

"N-no sir."

Mabel hurried after Dipper to take a place on the stage. He wormed his way in next to Gabby. Mabel sat decidedly behind him.

"Alright, where was I." Mr. Bartosic squinted down at a notebook in his hands. "'Downstage. . . table. . .' what does this even. . . ? Oh! Right! Tambry, where's Tambry . . . Tambry! You need to be downstage of the table when you're talking to Meg, not upstage."

Mabel looked over in mild surprise to see Tambry, one of Robbie's friends, sitting on the left of the stage. That's right, she was playing the main character. Robbie was next to her, and he caught Mabel's eyes and waved. Mabel smiled shyly back.

"O-oh, okay," Tambry said.

"You're doing great," Mr. Bartosic said, flashing her a quick smile before turning to the next victim. Mabel wondered when she could get away.

"Spotlighter!" He zeroed in on Dipper. "What's your name again?"

"Dipper Pines."

Mr. Bartosic paused. "That's a good name. Well, I know it was your first night last night, but your reaction time to the call was slow. Keep getting familiar with the cues so you can be up to speed, alright?"

"Will do!" Dipper said happily.

Mr. Bartosic looked down at his notes and then back up. "Meg? Where is Meg?"

Gabby raised her hand.

"Where is Meg? Meg!"

It took five people pointing and Gabby saying, "Right here!" before he noticed her. "Oh. There you are."

The cast laughed.

Mabel waited until the director was done talking to Gabby before leaning forward and tapping her on the shoulder. Gabby turned.

"Hey," Mabel whispered, "is there a quiet place I can go to study once you guys get started?"

"Oh, I dunno. The green room, maybe?"

"What's that?"

"It's where the actors hang out while they wait for their turn onstage."

Well, that sounded terrible. Mabel did say quiet, didn't she?

"Um, is there, um, anywhere else? Empty?"

"You there, Pine Tree, please keep it quiet while I give notes."

Mabel nearly jumped out of her skin. She stared up in Mr. Bartosic in panic as she scrambled back, her lungs constricting.

Mr. Bartosic frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Mabel?" Dipper touched her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"P-Pine Tree," she stammered. "Why'd you call me Pine Tree?"

Mr. Bartosic blinked. "Your t-shirt. I just forgot your name, and it's on your t-shirt."

Mabel looked down at it. Then back up at him.

Then she became very aware of everyone staring at her.

Her cheeks flushed bright red. "Oh. R-right. S-s-sorry."

She sat back and stared down at her lap, her face burning with humiliation.

Dipper scooted back until he was next to her. "Mabel," he whispered, as quietly as he could. "What was that?"

"That's what Bill calls me, remember?" she whispered back. "Pine Tree?"

Dipper frowned. "Yeah. . . that one time in Robbie's mind. I didn't remember before now, though."

Oh dang. Dipper didn't know about her other encounters with Bill.

"I just, um, it was a weird thing to call me.

"Yeah, I guess. . . but why did you freak out?"

Mr. Bartosic was eying them again. "Later," Mabel said, hoping Dipper would forget about it.

Time crawled on until finally Mr. Bartosic was finished with notes. "Alright, that's all. Finish getting set for tonight's run, everyone. Places in fifteen!"

"Thank you, fifteen!" the cast chorused. They all jumped down from the stage and headed out of the theater.

"Mabel?"

She looked up.

Gabby smiled tentatively. "I think I might have a place for you to study."

"Oh. Right. Thanks. Um, see you, Dipper. Good luck."

"Uh-uh," Dipper said. "In theater we say 'break a leg.'" He looked at Gabby with a smooth smile.

"You're catching on!" she said with a laugh.

"Break a leg, then," Mabel said, rolling her eyes and suppressing a smile.

She stood up and followed Gabby up the stage and into the wings.

"There's this room under the stage," Gabby said as she led Mabel down a dark hallway littered with the occasional night-light plugged in at the base of the wall. "It's connected to the pit. There are a lot of instruments and stuff in it, but we don't have a live orchestra for this show, so nobody is ever down there." She pulled open a door that Mabel couldn't see. "If you're quiet enough that Bartosic can't hear you, I'm sure you're fine to use it. Careful on the stairs there."

They crept down a narrow staircase in the dark. Mabel held the bundled-up laptop close to her chest and mentally reviewed the steps for dealing with ghosts.

Suddenly Gabby flipped on a light. A dim yellow lightbulb flickered to life and illuminated a bare patch of floor surrounded by shadowy pianos and drums and music stands. A small window at the top of the wall added a weak natural glow as it filtered the last rays of the sun into the room. Mabel's stomach flipped as she noticed a triangle pattern in the glass.

"What do you think?" Gabby asked.

Mabel swallowed. "Perfect." It wasn't — it looked like a great place for ghosts to hang out — but it was probably the best she'd get.

"You'll probably hear the music and stuff from the stage, but it should be muffled. We wouldn't want you getting a sneak peek of the show." Gabby grinned.

"Yeah. . . what was that about?"

"Willy is great, really. Mr. Bartosic, I mean. His first name is William."

William. Triangle windows. Pine Tree. Mabel shivered.

"But he has this thing about people who aren't in the cast or crew seeing the show early. No free sneak peeks, not for anybody. It's really one of the only things he's rigid about." She paused. "Mabel?"

Mabel had been staring up at the window. "Right. Okay. Thanks. And thanks for showing me this place. I just — I have to follow Dipper to rehearsals, and I wanna be productive while I'm here, you know?"

Gabby shrugged. "I think studying during break is crazy, but hey, you do you."

Mabel gave her a shy smile.

"Well, I better finish getting ready. Don't die down here, alright?"

"Okay."

Gabby ascended the stairs, and Mabel grimaced after her. Don't die. Thanks. She could only hope the ghosts in this place were nice.

She waited until Gabby was long gone before taking a deep breath. "Alright, ghosts. And Bill, if you're there and all these coincidences aren't just coincidences. I hope you don't mind me coming down here. I need to, uh, be down here for a couple days, maybe a couple weeks, I don't know. If you don't want me down here, please let me know and I'll leave, but please don't, um, haunt me or anything. I'll be polite."

No response. Mabel waited for a few minutes for an instrument to chime or some unnatural wind to pick up or something. Nothing.

"O-okay. I'm gonna stay here, then, and work on stuff. Thanks."

She set down her bundle and sat on the floor. Halfway through unwrapping the laptop, she paused.

"And Bill, leave me alone. I already said no."

She extracted the laptop out of its blanket, stared at it for a moment, and sighed.

"Here we go," she muttered.