The moment the group of lost kids entered the dining hall, Kelly was swept away by her group of friends.
"Don't worry about her anymore," Kelly said to her friends, tossing her hair and ignoring the fact that Stacey could hear everything she said. "She's so unfit and stupid that I don't know how she even got into this program. Her test papers were blank. She's no match for us. We can crush her easy. The other boys in the group must have just carried her well in yesterday's performance."
Blaze joined a small gang of similarly dressed boys, punching shoulders to greet them. Gieger joined a slow moving migration of other boys and girls who had a similar dark, mopey style. Emo maybe.
"What are you standing there for?" Endo asked, punching Stacey in the shoulder and making her jump. "Come and eat or there won't be anything left. We already grabbed some food for you but Flail really wants to eat your sausages."
"He can have them," Stacey shrugged, wondering whether it was really possible for her to learn to read and understand Tadpole in a day. On top of that, she was going to have to work on her fitness very hard.
Her competitive spirit was wavering halfway between giving up again because of all the hard work it was going to involve, or turning itself all the way up to the max. If she allowed herself to become competitive just to show all those people what she could really do, that meant she was very unlikely to get very much sleep in these next few days. And Stacey liked her sleep.
"She said you can have them," Endo told Flail.
"What? Really? Is she ok?"
"Just take whatever you want," Stacey pushed her plate at them, still thinking. "My tummy still hurts so I can't eat so much. I'll just have the toast."
"Whoa. Cool."
Endo and Flail dug into her plate of grilled sausage, mushroom, eggs and stewed beans. Ken tilted his head, watching on with a frown when Stacey picked up a slice of toast and then stopped moving.
Stacey thought back to when she used to prepare for her piano competitions. She had thrown aside all her studies at the time and forgotten about her homework. Instead, she had practised her piano for hours on end, ignoring her numb backside until her legs had fallen asleep. Even late into the night, she had continued practising, only reluctantly getting off the piano stool when her parents had made her stop to eat or go to bed.
And even then, her piano teacher, Mrs Igor had still scolded her for not practising enough.
The memory made Stacey shiver. She didn't want to remember all the pressure of that time. Living with that sort of pressure again felt like being locked in a still, windowless room with stale air. Maybe if she just focussed on what she needed to do, she might be alright? Might?
Stacey hunched her shoulders, staring at nothing. She was going to have to learn a new language in pretty much one day, catch up on academic subjects, improve her fitness, learn to dance and still participate in this program that watched her wherever she went and heard everything she said. Being on national television was already enough stress - even if no one here knew her and she didn't care much about this world. However, she couldn't stand the thought of people watching her fail and pointing fingers at her.
"Stacey?" Ken asked in a hesitant voice. "Are you all right?"
Stacey looked down. She didn't realise when she had stood up. Her insides were so full of a boiling, unsettled feeling that she didn't know what to do with herself. Ever since quitting piano, she had avoided any highly stressful situations and now she had found herself in one. If she bowed out of the program or allowed herself to be kicked out too early, she'd be back to living on the streets with nothing again. This whole world would know what a failure she was and with how they had not welcomed her earlier just because she was different, surely it would be worse if she got kicked out of the competition so quickly.
She couldn't do this. She couldn't do it. There was no way she'd be able to catch up to all the other kids. She was just going to expose her lack of ability and embarrass herself. What was the point in trying?
Dropping her toast, Stacey muttered, "I'm not hungry anymore."
She brushed off concerned hands and hurried away out of their sight. In a practice room with a piano furthest from the main hall, she closed the door to put her head between her knees and hide from everyone. But she couldn't sit still.
Normally it was hard to forget all the cameras around but wrapped up in her misery, Stacey forgot all about them for the moment. She muttered to herself unable to hold the rising emotion and panic back.
"I can't read. Can't write. I haven't learnt as much as they have. I don't know anything. People are going to laugh at me and mock me even more for being so ignorant, aren't they?" Stacey said to herself, rubbing her eyes. "There's so much stress. So much pressure. I can't - I can't deal with this. I can't. Can't. But if I quit, I'll be back on the streets and starving again. I don't want to be in such a helpless and hopeless situation again. I should be strong. Need to be strong. Stronger than this. How does a person become strong anyway? Can anyone tell me? I don't want to be anyone's object, project, feature or muse. I just want to be… what do I want to be?"
Stacey didn't know what she wanted to be or what her life goals were. Never really had. Not since she'd quit the piano. Life since then had been like walking on a tightrope. A strange limbo with the feeling of her life in suspension. Waiting, but waiting for what, she didn't know.
She wasn't sure what she was saying or even if she was making any sense now. She was just blurting things out loud, trying to sort her thoughts out and work her way through her feelings. She paced back and forth across the room, trying to suppress the growing giant block in her chest.
"What use are you?" she jumped up and pointed at the piano, yelling to get rid of the awful suffocating feeling. "What's the point of ever learning to play you? How useful are you? Why did I ever like you in the first place? You ruined my life. I didn't dream of becoming a musician. I didn't want to compete. I just wanted to have fun. Enjoy the music. Feel the keys under my fingers. Watch some magic come to life. Why did you have to ruin all of that?"
At this point, Stacey wasn't sure if she was talking to the piano or Mrs Igor. Maybe both.
"Playing you never earned me any money. Never got me anything but more stress and gave you bragging rights. What did it ever earn me? What did I ever get out of it? Nothing. Nothing! And now I have no idea where I am. I have no way to get home, wherever home is now. I might never see my parents or family or friends again. I am and having nothing. There's nothing left. I don't know anything. Was everything before a dream? Or am I living in a dream now? Can you help me? Tell me where to go? How to live? Do you even care? No. You're a stupid piano who can't do anything besides what the pianist decides to do to you."
Stacey sat at the piano and played an angry chord. She thrashed the keys in a tumultuous, messy song, letting all her frustration out onto the keys. The more she played, the more the music flowed and the old pieces she had memorised all those years ago returned to her. She played one after the other in a pastiche of frustration and then when she made a mistake, let her head fall down onto the piano keys and rest there.
"I'm so stupid," she said to herself. "I remember learning and learning until I couldn't take it anymore and now… now I'm useless. I don't know how to do anything. I can't do anything at all. Can't even read or write. How dumb is that? Why can't I be a super talented genius? Maybe then I would never have had to work so hard. I'm so stupid. I can't do this. I can't. I can't do this."
Stacey closed her eyes for a long moment.
Someone knocked on the door and entered when she didn't stir. She felt so tired. She didn't want to care.
"Stacey?" A hand touched her shoulder and a male voice spoke. "Stacey, assembly is going to start. The mentors are going to give their presentations. Come on."
Stacey still didn't move. She didn't want to go. Didn't want to see.
"Am I really such a weak person?" she asked. "I don't want to do this anymore. There's no way - it's practically impossible for me to catch up with everyone else here. I may as well just leave and quietly starve to death somewhere."
The hand on her shoulder drew back and hesitated. She heard the sound of the man leaving the room and relaxed a bit.
"No. I can do this. I can. I can. I can," Stacey told herself, wiping her streaming eyes, feeling angry with herself. She tried to brace herself and fortify her courage by persuading herself. "I can. I can. I can."