Middle school was finally coming to an end, and for the first time in a long while, Ezra was looking forward to what came next.

  High school.

  It felt like a fresh start, a chance to carve out a new path beyond the reputation he had carried for so long. The bullying had faded. The bruises of the past had started to heal. And now? Now, Ezra wanted to explore something new.

  One day, as he walked through the halls of his school, he noticed leaflets taped to the walls—colorful, eye-catching posters advertising various clubs and extracurricurs at the high school. It was part of a middle school outreach program, designed to introduce students to different opportunities before they even got there.

  Ezra skimmed through them with mild curiosity—chess club, robotics, student council, athletics. Nothing really grabbed him.

  Until he saw the acting club.

  He paused.

  Acting?

  The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

  Ezra had always loved role-pying, slipping into different characters, getting lost in worlds of his own creation. With how much fun he had sparring with Julie, outwitting Bruiser, and bantering with the construction crew, maybe he could channel that energy into something real.

  Something on stage.

  He imagined himself in front of an audience, delivering lines with the same sharp wit he had used all summer. He imagined commanding the room, holding their attention, becoming someone else entirely.

  The thought was thrilling.

  So, without hesitation, Ezra grabbed the leaflet.

  Maybe this was exactly what he needed.

  A week ter, Ezra stepped into the auditorium for his first acting club meeting.

  The stage stretched wide and open, its polished wooden floor catching the glow of the overhead lights. The theater seats were empty, but their rows stretched endlessly into the dim shadows, as if waiting for a future audience to fill them.

  Ezra had walked into this completely confident.

  He could banter. He could py roles. Hell, he had outtalked construction workers and gone toe-to-toe with Julie. How hard could this be?

  Then the club president—a senior named Max—handed him a script.

  "Alright," Max said, flipping through his own copy. "We're gonna do a few line reads, get a feel for the script. Ezra, you’re up first. Step on stage and give it a go."

  Ezra nodded, moving toward the center of the stage.

  Then he turned.

  And froze.

  All eyes were on him.

  Watching.

  Waiting.

  Expecting something.

  Ezra’s mouth went dry.

  His fingers tightened on the script, but his brain refused to cooperate. The words blurred together. He knew he had read them just fine a second ago, but now they didn’t feel real.

  For the first time in his entire life, Ezra felt small.

  It was one thing to py a role in his own world—where the stakes were low, where everything was controlled, where he could banter and py on his own terms.

  But this?

  This was different.

  This wasn’t about quick wit or sharp comebacks.

  This was about being seen.

  Judged.

  And right now, Ezra felt every set of eyes like a weight on his chest.

  His breath came shallow. His palms sweated.

  Someone coughed.

  Ezra panicked.

  "Uh," he started, voice cracking. "I—I don’t— I mean, uh…"

  Max raised an eyebrow. "You good, dude?"

  Ezra swallowed hard. His legs felt like lead.

  The script shook slightly in his hands.

  Nope.

  He wasn’t good.

  Not at all.

  He wanted off this stage.

  Now.

  So, without another word, Ezra turned on his heel and walked straight out of the auditorium.

  Ezra didn’t stop walking until he was outside, where the cool evening air hit his burning face.

  He sat down on a bench near the entrance, gripping his forehead, breathing hard.

  That was the worst feeling in the world.

  He wasn’t used to freezing up. He wasn’t used to feeling weak.

  Ezra had always been able to talk his way through things, to find the perfect words, to adapt to whatever situation was thrown at him. But the moment he was on stage, under those lights, with everyone watching him—

  It was like his brain had just shut down.

  He clenched his jaw.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Ezra didn’t go back inside that night.

  But he also didn’t let himself quit.

  As he sat there in the cold, staring at the empty sky, he realized something.

  This was the first real challenge he had faced that wasn’t about fighting, or talking back, or trying to survive someone else’s insults.

  This was a battle with himself.

  And he wasn’t going to lose.

  Ezra didn’t tell anyone what happened at acting club.

  He figured if he just pretended it didn’t happen, then maybe it wouldn’t be real. Maybe he could convince himself that freezing up in front of a bunch of strangers hadn’t been the most humiliating experience of his life.

  But, of course, Julie found out anyway.

  “You froze?” she asked, practically vibrating with amusement as she plopped down next to him on the school steps the next day. “You? Ezra the Banter King? The human encyclopedia of bullshittery?”

  Ezra groaned, slumping forward. “Julie, please.”

  She grinned like a cat with a trapped mouse. “Oh, no no no. I need to savor this moment. Hold on—” She cpped her hands together dramatically. “I AM EZRA, THE FEARLESS! MASTER OF WIT! OH WAIT, WHAT’S THIS? A COUPLE DOZEN EYES? A ROOM FULL OF PEOPLE WAITING FOR ME TO SPEAK? TRULY, THIS IS MY GREATEST ENEMY YET!”

  Ezra shot her a lethally unamused stare.

  Julie gasped, clutching her chest. “Oh no! He’s giving me the tragic protagonist look! He’s suffering! Woe is him!”

  Ezra sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are you done?”

  Julie giggled. “Not even close.”

  But then, something in her expression shifted. The teasing grin softened just slightly.

  “Hey,” she nudged him with her knee. “For real, though. What happened?”

  Ezra exhaled through his nose. “I dunno. I got up there, and it just… hit me. I could feel everyone staring. I couldn’t think. My brain just—” He snapped his fingers. “Shut off.”

  Julie hummed. “Stage fright. Yep. You got hit with the big leagues, my dude.”

  Ezra groaned. “You say that like it’s a disease.”

  Julie shrugged. “It kinda is. And it gets everybody.”

  Ezra frowned. “Yeah, but—”

  “No buts,” Julie cut in, pointing at him. “Ezra, literally everyone gets stage fright at some point. Even pros. Even people who have been acting for years.”

  Ezra leaned back against the step behind him, frowning. “So what do I do? Just suffer through it?”

  Julie grinned. “Oh no, my dear Cum-Back Kid. That’s where I come in.”

  Ezra sighed again. “This is gonna be awful, isn’t it?”

  Julie popped up to her feet. “C’mon. Let’s fix that broken brain of yours.”

  Julie led him to the park, which had just enough open space for what she had pnned.

  “Alright,” she cpped her hands. “First things first—the science.”

  Ezra gave her a ft look. “Oh, now you’re interested in science?”

  Julie smirked. “Only when it proves I’m right.” She pointed dramatically at his face. “Stage fright is just your dumb brain trying to save you from danger. It thinks being embarrassed is the same thing as getting eaten by a tiger.”

  Ezra blinked. “I… okay. That actually makes sense.”

  Julie nodded. “Right? So the trick is to convince your brain that you aren’t about to die horribly.”

  Ezra crossed his arms. “And how do I do that?”

  Julie grinned. “You trick it.”

  Ezra raised an eyebrow. “Julie, that tells me nothing.”

  Julie snorted. “Okay, okay. Here’s the breakdown—first, when you get up on stage, don’t think about the audience as a big, scary mass of judging faces. That’s dumb. Instead, focus on just one person at a time. It’s way easier to talk to one person than to fifty.”

  Ezra nodded slowly. “Okay… that kinda makes sense.”

  Julie snapped her fingers. “Second trick? Breathe. Seriously. People forget to breathe right when they’re nervous. You gotta slow down and trick your brain into thinking you’re calm.”

  Ezra rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, because deep breathing is totally gonna fix my existential fear of public humiliation.”

  Julie whacked his arm. “It helps! It stops your heart from doing that stupid, fast beating thing. Trust me, nerd.”

  Ezra rubbed his arm, grumbling. “Okay, okay. And what’s the third trick?”

  Julie grinned. “Make an idiot of yourself on purpose.”

  Ezra blinked. “I—what?”

  Julie spread her arms. “Look, if your brain is already panicking about embarrassing yourself, own it. Do something so stupid, so over-the-top dumb, that you prove that messing up isn’t actually scary.”

  Ezra narrowed his eyes. “And what exactly do you have in mind?”

  Julie smirked.

  Ten minutes ter, Ezra was standing in the middle of the park…

  …wearing a garbage bag as a cape…

  …with Julie loudly narrating his “grand entrance” while filming him on her phone.

  “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” she bellowed, drawing the attention of far too many people. “BEHOLD, THE FEARLESS, THE UNSTOPPABLE, THE ONE AND ONLY… CUM-BACK KID!”

  Ezra groaned, rubbing his hands down his face. “Julie, I swear—”

  “YES! MARVEL AT HIS HEROIC POSTURE! TREMBLE AT HIS MIGHTY PRESENCE!”

  “I hate you.”

  “THE CUM-BACK KID NEVER FEARS! HE NEVER FAILS! HE—”

  Julie tripped.

  Face-pnted right into the grass.

  Ezra blinked.

  Julie y there, her dramatic performance cut short by gravity itself.

  Then she turned her head slightly and muttered, “I’m good.”

  Ezra lost it.

  He ughed so hard he had to double over, wheezing as he clutched his stomach. People around the park were watching—definitely judging them—but for once?

  He didn’t care.

  Julie pushed herself up, brushing dirt from her face, grinning like an absolute menace. “See? Look at that! You just embarrassed yourself in public and nobody died.”

  Ezra wiped at his eyes, still breathless. “That was your embarrassment, not mine.”

  Julie dusted herself off. “Doesn’t matter. You ughed. You forgot to be scared.”

  Ezra paused.

  She was right.

  The whole point had been to make a fool of himself and realize it wasn’t the end of the world. And… it wasn’t.

  Julie smirked, hands on her hips. “So. What do you say? Ready to give acting another shot?”

  Ezra took a slow breath.

  Then—he grinned.

  “Hell yeah.”