SEASON ONE, EPISODE SIXTEEN

1989

MIYU

          MIYU WAS BEGINNING TO UNDERSTAND WHY A.J. HATED VASSAR COLLEGE.

          Besides the obvious rivalry between Vassar College and NYSPA, A.J. would often refer to the former as a mediocre copy of the latter, even though NYSPA was a lot more recent. Even with VC's history of being a pioneer for art schools around the country, A.J. looked down on it for the simple fact that it focused too much on the past and what they had done instead of projecting to the future.

          Besides, in spite of NYSPA being insanely competitive—which everyone and their mother already knew—there was still the slightest bit of respect for people. Naturally, she wasn't a big fan of thoroughly judging the freshmen audition tapes (she'd been mortified when she found out the upperclassmen had done the exact same to her on her freshman year), but there was still a sense of comradeship.

          In Vassar College, all that mattered was being a part of the Seven Sisters and being best friends with Yale University. It was about prestige and money and past decisions, and people who walked past her sometimes threw her judgmental looks, clearly knowing she didn't belong there.

          At their cores, VC and NYSPA weren't that different. Almost every student who got admitted into any of them generally fit the same profile—academically driven, bound to be successful, would willingly throw twenty people under the bus just to get an advantage. Show choir blogs had a blast calling them elitist assholes (she wasn't going to deny some students fit that description to a T).

          Maybe that was the main problem. A.J. hated them for being too similar, which was coincidentally the reason why she and Sasha had never been friends.

          As Miyu waited for A.J. to finish her conversation with Nick, she decided to walk around the campus. It was November now, and everything around her was coated in warm orange and brown tones—even the buildings—as opposed to NYSPA's typical colder, gray and black hues. People came and went, including a big group that exited the building Miyu was sitting in front of, and she knew she had found the right place.

          Janet García was part of that group—and their leader, so it seemed, as everyone else followed her and dispersed when she told them to. Nick was the official leader on paper, but Janet was the one Descant Get Enough ultimately listened to. Her dark ponytail swung from side to side as she walked, looking impossibly elegant even while wearing mom jeans, a simple t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

          She sat down on the edge of the massive fountain and lit up a cigarette, oblivious to the world around her. Nick hadn't come out of the building, so Miyu assumed A.J. was keeping him busy enough inside.

          That sounded overly inappropriate. It wasn't like Miyu was jealous or—yeah, no. Scratch that.

          She kind of was.

          Thus, she walked up to Janet and sat next to her in silence. Janet noticed her presence, but did nothing else to acknowledge it. Instead, she brought the cigarette to her lips, swallowed part of the smoke, and released the rest.

          "Hi," Miyu eventually said.

          "You don't even go here," Janet retorted, staring down at her phone. Miyu risked a glance, even though it was rude to do so, and her stomach churned with the unbelievable amount of Instagram notifications she was getting. A.J. got even more than that, even though Janet had also been involved in Spring Awakening. "What can I do for a spy?"

          Miyu scowled. "I'm not here to spy on you."

          "Good. You've been doing a horrible job at it, anyway." She tucked her phone back inside her jacket's pocket and finally turned to face Miyu. "You reek of NYSPA."

          "I think this is supposed to be the part when you stop pretending you don't know who I am."

          Janet lowered her sunglasses, even though it wasn't a sunny afternoon. "I think this is supposed to be the time when you realize I don't take suggestions, let alone orders, from NYSPA students. We're rivals, darling. You can go back in that sorry excuse for an auditorium"—she pointed towards the building she and Descant Get Enough had gotten out of with her chin—"and take A.J. with you. If you wanted to spy on our rehearsals, you're out of luck."

          "You saw her?"

          "Well." She took a drag on her cigarette. "She's never been good at being stealthy. Why are you here, if it's not to intimidate your competition? Not that we see you as competition. We're national champions."

          Miyu rolled her eyes. "I fail to see how that's any of your business."

          Janet chuckled. "Feisty. I like that."

          "I came here because you looked lonely. I'm starting to regret it now."

          "There's a clear difference between being alone and being lonely. I just so happen to prefer the former."

          Miyu huffed.

          A.J. usually didn't talk about Nick simply because it hurt her to do so, but she mentioned Janet even less than she mentioned him, which had always posed as a question in Miyu's mind. The three of them had always seemed close, back when the musical was still going strong, and it wasn't the kind of friendship one would fake for social media or to boost ticket sales.

          Miyu supposed she understood. By losing Nick and cutting ties with the rest of the cast, A.J. had also lost an important female presence in her life, something she'd spent over twenty years searching for, which was why it stung harder than the rest.

          "I talked A.J. into talking to Nick," Miyu eventually confessed. Even if Janet didn't see The Twilight Tone as 'competition', that didn't change the fact that they were rival show choir groups. That meant she had to be careful with everything she did and said if she wanted her group to win. "That's why we're here."

          "Why?"

          "Why what?"

          "Why would you do that? For Nick? Or for her?"

          Miyu sighed. "For her. Always for her."

          Janet dropped her cigarette and smashed it with her boot. "I'm not surprised. That's just the type of person A.J. is. It's just so goddamn easy to hate her—and she does a great job at convincing you to do it, even if she doesn't realize it—but it's two sides of the same coin, isn't it? Sometimes, you remember you can't help but love her, even if it's just a little bit."

          Miyu then decided she was going to be the judge of how she felt about A.J., thank you very much. She supposed everyone had their own interpretation of how other people were like, but she fully disagreed with Janet's take.

          When you're someone's roommate for four entire years, there comes a point when you realize they're either your soulmate or your worst enemy. All romantic feelings aside, Miyu knew, from the very first moment she'd met A.J., that it wasn't something she was willing to lose. A.J., with all her qualities and all her flaws, couldn't—and shouldn't—be reduced to one period of her life. Every single event and the combination of all of them had culminated in the person she was today.

          Miyu knew just how dangerous it was. Running the risk of being anti-feminist and a massive cliché, A.J. wasn't like other girls—she had a management team deciding almost every single one of her moves, a massive following on social media, and an agent who handed out NDAs like candy.

          She knew the risks, now more than ever. That didn't stop her.

          "I think you're wrong," Miyu said. "I don't think you know her at all."

          "And you do?"

          "What I do, I love and I accept." The building's door swung open and there she was, all golden like an autumnal morning. "You should try not being so judgmental all the time. Maybe that will make rehearsals easier." Janet clenched her jaw as Miyu hopped from the fountain. "I suppose we'll see you at Nationals, right when we yank that trophy out of your hands."

          IT WAS TAYLOR SWIFT WEEK.

          Well, half of the week was. Miyu had assumed it would leave A.J. in a better mood, especially since the week's themes were suggested by her, but whatever happened with Nick back at Vassar College had left her quieter.

          Miyu had tried to talk to her about it, because of course she had, but the answer was always something along the lines of her 'having a lot to think about'. Thus, to see her find refuge next to Sasha, someone she didn't even like, was . . . strange, to say the least.

          That afternoon, she was sitting on her usual seat. She and T.J leaned forward and towards each other, preventing anyone from knowing what they were doing or talking about, and Miyu didn't ask. She sat in silence, realizing just how sad it was that she barely had any other friends besides A.J., and that this wasn't how she wanted the rest of her senior year to go. There were so many other people in the club, weren't there?

          Weren't things supposed to be different?

          When Isabella barged into the room, people straightened. A.J. and T.J. were lost in their own twin world, oblivious to everything else around them, and completely ignored her.

          "Hi, hi, hi," she greeted, in typical Isabella fashion. Next to Miyu, Gwen leaned forward in anticipation. "As most of you all know already, this week is, once again, split into two themes. For now, we're all about Taylor Swift's discography. Whether you like her or not, her contribution to the music industry is undeniable—she went from country to pop and turned into one of the biggest living musicians." She paused, looking around the room. "Especially now, in a time when we're watching her fight for her right to own her music, with the AMAs creeping closer, both A.J. and I thought it was appropriate to celebrate the artist of the decade.

          "If you don't mind . . ." She took off her blazer. A.J. finally looked up. "I'd like to go first. I'm a bit rusty, so you'll have to forgive me."

          (She sang The Man. No one really saw it coming and Miyu had never heard her sing before, not even in archive footage from her college days, but she was impressed.)

         People seemed strangely interested in the theme. Even Gwen, who was known for never taking any risks, sticking to what was the safest option, and never voicing her opinion, decided to give the weekly assignment a go. It was still a relatively simple choice—State Of Grace wasn't, by any means, a hard song—but it was still something.

          Zara followed suit with We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together, with Levi looking absolutely mortified over what she had done. He sang Mean and Miyu couldn't help but wonder just who they were jabbing at.

         "I want to go next," A.J. announced, "but not here."

         Isabella frowned. "You want to move this to the auditorium? Now?"

         "After us," Waylon interrupted, with Landon following suit. "Sorry, A.J.; the spotlight is ours for the time being."

         A.J. scoffed and leaned back against her chair, arms and legs firmly crossed. "Yeah, right."

         (It was I Think He Knows. Miyu thought the boys were pretty great.)

         Things changed in the auditorium. People discussed which song they wanted to sing for the big group number, even though it was only the first day, and the big contender seemed to be Shake It Off. Miyu didn't have the energy to worry about it, feeling like there was something bigger that no one had told her about.

          A.J. climbed up to the stage.

         "So," she began. "I've been doing a lot of thinking during the past few days. I talked to Nick." She gulped. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, since most of you probably don't care and those who do, it's not because of me as a person. It's because of me as the actress you follow on Instagram. Anyway . . . we talked. We didn't solve things, not yet, but he helped me figure some things out. Namely, what I want to do with my personal life going forward." Miyu straightened. "I told him I needed time. He said I had all the time in the world and that this was a decision I had to make for and by myself. It's my own happiness and no one else's."

          "Can I quote you on that?" Angelina asked, receiving an impressive glare from Diana in response. A.J. ultimately ignored her.

          "This song means a lot to me," she continued. "You don't have to read much into it, really, but . . ." She took a deep breath. "It's important if you listen. I think we can learn and grow as a group if we really start listening to each other."

          She nodded toward the band and the first chords of Cruel Summer (or the last ones from Getaway Car. Perspective was important) echoed in the auditorium. As per usual, she didn't change the pronouns—she sang bad, bad boy—and it was clear by the bridge she would have dedicated the song to Nick if he was listening.

          You know, with the line about not wanting to keep secrets to keep him and all that. It was a song about a secret summer relationship—it didn't take a genius to figure that one out, even though it stung like a bitch.

         Then, Miyu could have sworn she looked straight at her at the end of the bridge. I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

          Her heart threatened to jump out of her mouth when A.J. paused. Then, came the growl.

          She looks up grinning like a devil.

          A.J. had said it loud and clear, so clear Miyu felt she was dreaming. She looked around her, just to check if anyone else had noticed—Angelina certainly had, but T.J. was distracted. Sasha looked pretty pleased with herself.

          "Oh, God," Miyu muttered. "Oh, God."

          She also had a song. The problem was that it could be too obvious, especially after that performance, and she didn't want to overstep A.J.'s carefully built boundaries. The threat of those NDAs hung around her head as she stood up to occupy the now-empty stage, feeling more exposed than ever as everyone stared at her.

          It was almost like they knew.

          Her song was Daylight.

          She thought Enchanted was too much of a stretch, and those who knew about their history with that song would easily put two and two together, which was exactly what Miyu wished wouldn't happen. Secret things were meant to be kept a secret, not broadcast for the entire world to see.

          A.J. knew that, obviously. She smiled at the burning red verse, and the fact that she knew was all that mattered.

          Just let it go.