Chapter 6 — The Stage of the Unsaid

The bad news came on a Friday morning, just two days after the first test run. Do Anh Vu, a student of class 12A5, takes on the role of "Duc" - a close friend who always silently stays by the girl's side throughout the play, the male protagonist who plays an emotional pillar - appearing in the club room with a hoarse voice, almost unable to make clear sounds.

"The doctor said I have severe laryngitis," he wrote on a piece of paper and gave it to Ms. Huong, because even talking at this time made his throat sore. "You must completely limit talking for at least four weeks, otherwise it will permanently affect your vocal cords."

Ms. Huong read the piece of paper, her face flashed with deep worry at this unexpected news. Four weeks of not talking means that Anh Vu will absolutely not be able to participate in the next test session, and will not be able to prepare in time for the regional qualifiers that are just over a month away.

"Don't worry about treatment," Ms. Huong wrote back, her voice trying to reassure her even though she was in turmoil calculating alternative options. "Your health is more important than any show."

The news spread throughout the club during practice that afternoon, making the already tense atmosphere due to the time crunch even worse. This is the second time in less than two weeks that the club has had to face the loss of a key player in the middle of a sprint.

"We can't postpone the party," Anh Thu said to Ms. Huong in the club office, his voice filled with worry. "The role of Duc has almost all of the climax scenes with the girl character. If a replacement is not found in time, the entire training progress will be seriously delayed."

Ms. Huong pondered for a long time, looking out the window towards the hall, where Kien was alone checking the lighting system for this afternoon's practice session. "I've thought of a plan," she said finally, her voice careful. "But I need your approval before I propose to that person."

Mr. Thu frowned, sensing what Ms. Huong was about to say. "Are you thinking about Hoang Kien?"

"That's right," Ms. Huong nodded. "I've been observing him for over a month. He has a sensitivity to the script, a theatrical instinct that I rarely see in students who haven't gone through formal training. I believe, if he's ready, he can take on the role of Duc better than anyone else in the club right now."

"But he always avoids everything related to being in the spotlight," Anh Thu countered, recalling Kien's moment of panic during the first practice session. "I'm not sure he will agree, and I also don't want to force him to do something that will hurt him."

"I also have the same concerns," Ms. Huong admitted. "But sometimes, the only way for a person to truly overcome his fear, is to be given a big enough reason to face it. I think this play, and perhaps the trust from those around him, could be that reason."

That afternoon, after practice ended, Ms. Huong privately called Kien to the club office. Mr. Thu, even though he was not asked to be present, still lingered nearby, unable to help but worry for both sides.

"I want to ask you something," Ms. Huong said, her voice gentle but serious. "Do Anh Vu, the actor playing Duc, just had to withdraw due to health reasons. I think you are the most suitable person to take on this role."

Kien's face immediately turned pale, his hands clenched unconsciously. "I... I can't," he replied, his voice trembling rarely. "I only do backstage work, ma'am. I don't act."

"I know you have the ability, Kien," Ms. Huong said, her voice patient but unwavering. "I saw how you analyzed the script, how deeply you understood the character. This is not a hasty decision on my part."

"I can't stand in front of a crowd," Kien said, his voice choked, almost like an unconscious confession. "You don't understand."

Ms. Huong was silent for a moment, her eyes full of deep understanding, making Kien surprised. "I don't know exactly what happened to you," she said softly, "but I've noticed, every time the spotlight shines on you, you react as if you're facing something very painful from your past. I don't want to force you to tell if you're not ready, but I want you to know, if you agree to try, I and the whole club will always be there to support you, without judgment."

Kien stood still, those words deeply touching a place that he had tried to lock tightly for the past four years. He looked out the window, where Anh Thu was standing, their eyes accidentally met for a brief moment - a look without judgment, just filled with a quiet trust that he had never received from anyone since the incident when he was fourteen years old.

"I need time to think," Kien said finally, his voice still shaking but no longer refusing as bluntly as before.

"Okay," Ms. Huong replied, nodding to respect that decision. "I'll give you until Monday morning to answer. But I hope you'll consider it carefully, not for the club's sake, but for your own sake."

Kien left the office in a chaotic mood, memories of that fateful performance night rushing back more intensely than ever - the bright lights, thousands of audience eyes, and the moment he stood there, completely forgetting all his lines, only standing dumbfounded in the middle of the stage while mocking laughter gradually spread from the crowd, before that video became an obsession that followed him for four long years.

That night, Kien texted Duy Anh, making an appointment at a milk tea shop near his house. He couldn't keep his chaotic thoughts in his heart any longer without sharing them with someone. When the two sat down, he recounted Ms. Huong's entire proposal, his voice still shaking with emotion.

"What do you think I should do?" Kien asked, clutching the glass of milk tea that had almost completely melted.

Duy Anh pondered for a moment before responding, his voice was rarely serious. "I don't know what happened to you in the past, and I won't force you to tell if you're not ready. But I've noticed that, since the day you started spending more time with the script, with Anh Thu, you've changed a lot. You smile more, talk more, and it seems like you're gradually finding something you lost a long time ago."

"But what if I fail again like last time?" Kien asked, his voice filled with undisguised fear. "What if I stand on stage and forget everything again, disappointing everyone again?"

"Then you will learn how to get up after that failure, like many other people do," Duy Anh replied, his voice sincere. "But I think, what's scarier than failing again, is the fact that you keep living in fear of an incident that happened four years ago, never giving yourself the chance to prove that you're much more mature than the fourteen-year-old boy that day."

Those words, although simple, hit on the very thing that Kien had always avoided facing. He sat quietly, looking down at his cup of milk tea, clearly feeling that perhaps it was time for him to make a decision, not for Ms. Huong, not for the club, but for himself.

At the same time, at her home, Anh Thu couldn't stop thinking about the conversation she accidentally witnessed between Ms. Huong and Kien. She texted him, typing over and over again before deciding to send a short line: "Whatever you decide, I will respect your choice. But if you need someone to believe in you, I'm always here."

Kien looked at that text message that appeared on his phone screen right after saying goodbye to Duy Anh, a warm feeling spread throughout his heart. He read it over and over again before typing out a short but determined reply: "Thank you. I think, I need to try."

Putting down the phone, he sat quietly by his room's window for a long time, looking out at the starry night sky, feeling both scared and filled with a new determination that he had never felt since the day he left the spotlight. Maybe, he thought, it was time for him to try stepping out of the shadow of his past, even if just a small step, to see if he could regain some part of the person he once was, before fear took everything away.