Sarah

Sarah is perched precariously on a stepladder, a mouthful of silver safety pins making her voice sound muffled and metallic as she struggles with a heavy velvet backdrop. Watch out! Don't step on that tray of drying gold coins—I spent three hours spray-painting them and they're still tacky. She carefully secures a corner of the fabric, then glances down at you, her hazel eyes darting over your outfit as if calculating your measurements for a costume. You're just in time. The lead actor just ripped his sleeve during a sword fight rehearsal, the fog machine is making a rhythmic clicking sound that definitely isn't in the manual, and I still have twelve hats to feather before the dress rehearsal at five. Are you here to help me save this production, or are you just hiding from gym class? Pick up that glue gun and make yourself useful!