Chapter 48
Derek chugged his third coffee of the morning as he worked to add the Vietnamese back to work with the changes they’d made
to the show since removing it. He tried his best to sing the words to himself to make sure the Viet and English flowed well
together, but he couldn’t remember the correct pronunciation for everything. Hopefully Th ? o could help him clean things up later.
Once he’d fixed the script, he headed over to Prestige early to find Greg. Derek wouldn’t ask for permission but would inform
him that they had reverted the script to his and Th ? o’s original vision.
He arrived to learn from the artistic director’s assistant that Greg would arrive before ten, when tech was scheduled to begin.
Derek found himself walking the stage multiple times, both alone and with the set and lighting designers, who were finishing
some last-minute things before the actors arrived.
He could hardly believe that everything was coming together. This was his first musical as cowriter and director. As long
as he stayed on course, this production would open more doors for not just his actors but for all Asian American actors. Th ? o and Zoe would understand after they saw the latest version of the script. And after he apologized.
From his seat in the sixth row from the stage, he tried to etch this moment in his memory. His set designer had transported them to a Vietnamese fairy tale with touches of modern elements as a nod to the rock songs. At first glance, it looked simplistic, but it would transform to become the different locations: the sisters’ home, the palace, and his favorite, the persimmon tree where the Emperor vowed to never take T ? m for granted again.
The only designer he hadn’t spoken with recently was Zoe. She’d done an admirable job of avoiding him, but she’d remained
professional by emailing updates to him and the rest of the production team. They weren’t working in costumes yet, but Heather
had scheduled final fittings for many of the actors.
Rehearsal started in ten minutes. Derek hoped he could pull off a pep talk that would keep everyone motivated. The next five
days would consist of ten-to-twelve-hour days. Longer for the crew, who’d been here at nine to prepare for all the behind-the-scenes
work.
Th ? o, who’d also managed to avoid him all morning, was in deep conversation with Heather. She’d been in a meeting with her assistant
musical director and the musicians who would be performing live later during tech after everyone had a better handle on the
technical elements.
At ten o’clock sharp, the twelve cast members gathered on the stage for the pre-tech rehearsal meeting. The actors’ eyes widened
as they ooh ’d and ah ’d over the set, as it was their first time seeing it complete. That’s exactly how Derek felt this morning, too.
“Welcome to tech,” Heather announced. “We have long days ahead of us, so make sure to stay hydrated and eat. I don’t need
anyone hurting their voices or passing out because you’re not eating.”
She stepped back to give Derek the floor. Behind him, Greg’s voice boomed as he finished a phone call. He hadn’t expected
the artistic director to come to the first day of tech. Derek groaned inwardly. That man had the worst timing.
Derek took a deep breath and ignored the swirling in his stomach. He’d talk to the actors first and send them to the assistant
musical director to warm up.
“Before we start rehearsal, I want to thank you for believing in me and taking a chance on a brand-new musical. You, too, Th ? o.” He turned around to meet her eye but she was sitting several rows behind him, tapping on her phone.
Derek cleared his throat and continued. “We’re about to change how the world sees us with this production. Vietnamese folks—no,
all Asian Americans—will be able to see themselves in this story. A fairy tale full of hope, love, and—”
Katie Mai and Danny walked downstage and hopped off into the audience. They walked past him and out of the theater. The rest
of the cast followed suit.
“Where are you going? I wasn’t finished.” Derek looked at Heather, who looked at him blankly.
Th ? o stood up and faced him.
“We refuse to be in a production that allows that man”—Th ? o pointed at Greg—“to dictate how we tell our story. Until you both agree to revert to the original Vietnamese lyrics, none
of us will step foot inside this theater.”
Before he could tell her that he’d already changed everything back, she walked out.
“Derek, how could you let this happen?” Greg fumed.
Derek’s mouth dropped. Th ? o and some of the actors had given him the cold shoulder, but he didn’t think they’d walk out over it. If only he’d told Th ? o before rehearsal started, he could’ve stopped this.
“You get your cast back onstage right now. We’ve invested too much money in this show for this. Wait until I call Actors’
Equity for this unsanctioned strike,” Greg threatened no one in particular.
“Maybe we should see what they’re doing?” Heather suggested.
Derek forced his legs to move. He needed to tell Th ? o—and Zoe—that he was ready to stand up to Greg. Heather and Greg fol lowed him into the lobby. A crowd had gathered outside in front of Prestige.
“How dare they protest in front of my theater!” Greg exclaimed. “I’m calling the police to disperse them.”
“Police? We can take care of things ourselves,” Derek said, trying to calm down the artistic director, but the man stomped
off.
“I’ll go after him,” Heather offered. “You should go out there and talk to Zoe.”
She ran after Greg, leaving Derek alone in the lobby. He stared out the large glass windows until his eyes focused on purple
hair. His heart leapt as he found Zoe standing on a riser or makeshift platform of some kind. She was speaking passionately
into a—karaoke machine?
For a moment, he was transported back to senior year at CNY College. Zoe didn’t have a microphone back then, but the crowd
had been so small, they’d had no problem hearing her.
Today, there had to be at least sixty people standing behind Zoe, with more joining them. They held protest signs that read:
asian stories are universal stories
not your model minority
proud to be asian
And his favorite: love our people like you love our food .
All his friends were out there, risking their jobs in order to stand up for his musical. But it wasn’t just his musical. It
belonged to all of them. Goose bumps spread across his arms. He’d been unable to stand behind her in college, but she’d given
him an opportunity for a do-over.
Derek rushed outside as news vans pulled up. The camera people and reporters scrambled for positions next to the people who
were already live streaming from their phones.
“This could be the first musical on Broadway with an all-Asian creative team and cast. Yet a white man wants us to strip all the Vietnamese from it because he claims they can’t sell tickets that way,” Zoe announced.
The crowd booed.
“The artistic director demanded that we dumb down this show for non-Asian audiences. He thinks you’re not smart enough to
understand it,” Zoe continued.
“He’s the dumb one,” someone in front of Derek yelled.
“Why aren’t we allowed to tell our stories the way we want to and not how Greg A. Powers thinks they should be told?” Zoe
had the crowd on edge. “Our voices matter. Our stories matter!”
The actors began chanting, “Love our people like you love our food.”
Wait, was that Zoe’s brother chanting with them? And there were faces he’d seen cleaning up at Eden Center. Even their elders
had come out to protest. Derek’s heart swelled. He thought he’d have to face Greg alone this morning, but he had an entire
community behind him. He needed to talk to Zoe. He needed to stand with her the way he hadn’t in college.
“Zoe!” he yelled through the crowd, but she didn’t hear him.
He gently pushed his way past people of all backgrounds who had joined them. Before he could get there, Greg appeared in front
of Zoe.
“Look who’s here! Greg A. Powers, artistic director of Prestige Repertory!” Zoe waved at the man, whose face was beet red
with anger.
Greg turned to Derek, who’d finally made it to the center of the crowd. “Did you put your girlfriend up to this?”
“No, but I wish I’d been a part of this.” Derek climbed the makeshift platform to stand next to Zoe.
“You don’t have to do this,” she whispered to him.
“I have to. I want to,” he responded and grabbed her hand.
She squeezed his hand and nodded. Relief flooded his body. At least for this moment, they were in it together. He would apologize later and hope that she’d give him another chance to be her boyfriend.
“I called the cops. You need to leave right now.” Greg waved his finger at Zoe and everyone behind her.
“The sidewalk is public property, so you can’t make us.” Zoe smirked.
“This is my theater. I’m in charge!” spat Greg. “I should’ve never allowed Derek to hire you.”
“You told me I had final say on everything about The Brocaded Slipper ,” Derek countered.
“As long as you did what I wanted,” the man shot back.
“We’re changing everything back to the way it was originally written,” Derek demanded. He should’ve stood up to the man much,
much sooner.
“This is all your fault. You poisoned him against me,” Greg accused Zoe. “If only you’d come to my office after hours like
I suggested, we could’ve avoided all this.”
“Wait, what?” Derek turned to Zoe. “He sexually harassed you?”
Derek’s hands balled into fists, ready to punch Greg.
“He’s not worth it.” Zoe pulled him back.
“He came on to me, too,” Katie Mai cried out as she stepped forward. “He told me if I didn’t get ‘cozy’ with him, he’d make
up a reason for Derek to fire me. I don’t even like men.”
Katie Mai pulled Th ? o in for a deep kiss. The crowd tittered.
“He tried the same with me,” said another actress and then another.
“Did you catch that everyone?” Zoe asked the reporters and people live streaming.
“Loud and clear!” replied a Black woman standing next to them as she kept her phone camera on Greg.
“Lies!” Greg sputtered. “They came on to me because they wanted preferential treatment.”
Derek’s nostrils flared as he unclenched his hands and clenched them back into fists. Hitting a white man in front of so many
witnesses was never a good idea. Not that Derek wanted to resort to violence. He could put up with Greg’s numerous microaggressions
disguised as feedback for the musical. But now the man had harassed his friends and the woman he loved.
Enough. He’d let the artistic director get away with too much already. His resolve to undo Greg’s suggestions were now cemented.
Derek wouldn’t compromise on anything the man asked.
“How dare you accuse me of this nonsense,” Greg continued as spit flew out of his mouth. His face was purple with rage as
he pointed to the women who had spoken up about what he’d done to them.
“Shut up, Greg!” Derek commanded.
All the stress and anxiety that had been weighing him down dissipated with those words. He stood taller. He would no longer
allow this man to bully him or anyone he cared for.