Chapter 15 — The Stage of the Unsaid

Two weeks before the regional festival, the Drama Club entered its most intense training period - each afternoon lasting until late at night, every smallest detail of the play was meticulously reviewed and edited by Ms. Huong to ensure the highest possible perfection before the official competition day.

The relationship between Anh Thu and Kien, although not officially confirmed verbally, has become much clearer in the eyes of everyone around them - the natural hand holding during breaks, the warm glances exchanged during practice, the almost perfect chemistry on stage without having to try to act. The whole club, even though no one said it outright, implicitly understood and supported the growing relationship between their two main actors.

"When do you two plan to make it official?" Duy Anh asked during a practice session, his voice full of familiar teasing, making both Kien and Anh Thu blush.

"We're focusing on the festival first," Anh Thu replied, although the smile that couldn't be hidden on her lips revealed more than her words could express.

The final rehearsal before the weekend went smoothly, the entire play was tested continuously without interruption, achieving the highest level of perfection since the beginning of the rehearsal process. Ms. Huong, after watching, could not hide her extreme satisfaction.

"If we can maintain this form until the official competition day," she said, her voice full of hope, "I believe, we have a chance to compete for the top position."

That positive news spread excitement throughout the club, but at the same time increased the pressure on Gia Bach's shoulders, who increasingly felt like he was being pushed to the edge of a team that was approaching glory in which he had no part.

On Sunday afternoon, when Anh Thu and Kien went to the city library together to review for the upcoming graduation exam - one of the rare times they both spent studying instead of rehearsing plays - Kien suddenly asked a question that surprised Anh Thu.

"Have you thought about what major you'll study in college?" he asked, closing the book he was reading.

"I'm still considering between Film Screenwriting and Literature," Anh Thu replied, his voice thoughtful. "My dad still hoped I would study Law, but after everything that happened with this play, I think, I have found the path I really want to pursue."

"I'm proud of you," Kien said, his voice sincere. "As for me, my family still wants me to major in Economics, but recently, I've started thinking about the possibility of studying a major related to the performing arts, perhaps theater directing."

"That's great," Anh Thu said, her eyes shining with excitement. "You have real talent, Kien. It would be a shame if you didn't continue to pursue it."

The two continued to talk about their future plans, about the dreams that they both began to believe could come true, thanks to what they had been through together over the past few months. That moment of peace, in the quiet space of the library, gave both of them a rare feeling of safety and happiness before the overwhelming pressure of the sprint period.

But that peace did not last long. On Monday morning, as the whole club gathered in the hall to prepare for practice, a much more serious incident than the previous broken lamp occurred — the entire soundtrack recorded specifically for the play, which was stored on the club's main computer, disappeared without a trace, while the only backup copy on the portable drive could not be found anywhere.

"No way," Duy Anh said, his voice panicked as he checked and rechecked his computer. "I saved both copies carefully, how could they both disappear?"

The whole club was plunged into panic, with less than two weeks left until the official match day, and the important background music - which had been carefully invested in for many months - was now completely gone. Anh Thu stood there, his heart pounding, clearly realizing that this was no longer a random incident, but a deliberate act of sabotage, more serious than anything they had ever faced before during the entire process of preparing for the most important play of their student life.

Ms. Huong, when informed, immediately summoned the entire club's board of directors into the office, her face as serious as ever. "This is the second time in less than a month we've experienced suspicious technical problems," she said, her voice sharp. "I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but I think it's time for us to consider the possibility of someone intentionally sabotaging the show."

"Should we report it to the school board?" Ngoc Diep asked, her voice full of worry.

"I will report," Ms. Huong replied, "but first, we need to focus on overcoming the consequences. Duy Anh, can you re-record the background music in the shortest time possible?"

"I will try my best," Duy Anh replied, although his voice was still filled with worry at the huge amount of work that needed to be completed in less than two weeks.

After the meeting, when everyone dispersed to begin the repair work, Anh Thu pulled Kien to a separate corner, his voice filled with concern. "I don't want to think badly of anyone," she said, "but I can't help but remember Gia Bach's strange reaction every time we achieve some success."

"I had the same thought," Kien admitted, his voice heavy. "But we don't have any concrete evidence to accuse him. If we suspect wrongly, it could completely destroy trust within the whole club."

"You're right," Anh Thu replied, sighing tiredly. "We can only continue to be vigilant, and focus on accomplishing the best of what is within our control."

Together, the two started helping Duy Anh re-record the background music, working until late at night for many consecutive days to keep up with the schedule. That incident, although causing many difficulties and tensions, also unintentionally brought the whole club closer together, united to face adversity during the most important sprint period.

But for Gia Bach, who was actually behind this incident — not deleting the data, but silently reformatting the storage drive in a moment of extreme desperation after receiving yet another pressure-filled text from his family — the guilt was now so great that he was almost unbearable. Seeing the whole club united, staying up late working without complaint to overcome the consequences he had caused, a part of him wanted to confess everything, but the fear of the consequences, of completely losing the last scholarship opportunity, continued to hold him tightly in a spiral of guilt and silence, closing Part III of the story in a tense atmosphere, full of uneasy foreboding about even bigger storms waiting ahead.

After three consecutive nights staying up late with the group to re-record the entire background music, Duy Anh finally completed the new recording, although the quality is not as perfect as the lost original. "This is all I could do in such a short time," he said, his voice both tired and relieved as he played it for the group to listen to.

"Still wonderful as always," Anh Thu said, her voice full of sincere gratitude. "Thank you very much for not being afraid of difficulties."

"We are a team," Duy Anh replied, smiling slightly tiredly. "None of us can let an unseen saboteur bring down the spirit of the entire club."

That sentence, although encouraging, also made Anh Thu shudder at the possibility that there was a real saboteur hiding right in the very group she trusted. She glanced at Gia Bach, sitting quietly in the corner of the room. His face looked tired, somewhat more haggard than usual, making her wonder if that fatigue came from normal study pressure, or from a much deeper psychological burden that he was having to bear alone.

She decided not to voice her doubts at this time, not wanting to cause more division within the group right before the important festival. But in her heart, she told herself to keep a more careful eye on all developments around her, ready to face anything that might happen in the remaining stressful days before the play officially hits the regional festival stage.