Questioning Emmet

It wasn't plaid. He was wearing the black sweater he'd worn the day before. It made him almost invisible backstage. Despite the red tint of the light, he appeared almost colorless. A dark figure, skulking in the corner, whispering static commands into his headset. It was oddly...peaceful. No color, no sound, no movement. I watched him.

Emmet was in my dream that night. I couldn't remember everything that happened, but I knew it involved both of us reading the same book. That was the only part of the dream that made sense. The rest of it included my school being taken over by Russians and me falling down a drain or something. It was weird.

At the next rehearsal, the lights were even darker than before. Emmet was just a silhouette. He was all black and no white. Pure darkness. It was interesting to watch. Emmet had his eyes on the stage and his backpack at his feet. I asked about the book he had let me read part of. He said he didn't bring it. I watched him, then left the stage.

The second time I went on stage, I watched Emmet again. He started pumping his fists in the air like a lunatic.

"what are you doing?"
"rndgmdjvspty"
"what?"
"random dance party. I'm bored" he whispered under his breath. I laughed at him.

"I'm going to pretend you're not insane"

He shrugged and continued. After a minute or so he put his hands down and played with something on the wall. I watched his silhouette let go of the object and turn back to the stage. everything was still. The black consumed everything around us besides the stage. I played my scene and left.