Page 11 of Disharmony

“That sounds great,” I reply. Unpacking can wait until later. “When did you move in?”

“Returning campers get to arrive a few days before to help set everything up,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of people who were fighting over sharing a cabin with you. You’re lucky it’s randomized.”

“Oh, man.” I grimace. “I assure you, I’m just a nobody. Ask anyone from where I’m from.”

None of the campers know the person they saw in the video isn’t a reflection of me as an artist. I’ve only just arrived, but it already feels like pressure is building. As well as being offered a free ride, other people’s expectations are only gonna make me feel like more of a fraud. The only place to go from the top is down.

“You’re not what I expected,” Cookie says, looking at me with curiosity. “Most vocalists I know have egos bigger than the main stage… no offense.”

I snort. “And do all campers have a no bullshit filter?”

“Only this one,” Cookie says proudly. “Try not to stress about all the camp hype. It’ll die down. I do have one piece of advice, though. Try to watch your back, okay? Not everyone will have your best interests at heart, and your competition is not happy you’re here.”

“My competition?”

Cookie’s warning sounds ominous. Some people will have more success than others, but does that really mean everyone is pitted against each other from the start?

“You can tell you’re new,” Cookie says. That’s the second time someone has said that since I’ve arrived. “All I’m trying to say is that there’s a certain culture here, that’s all.”

“Come on, Cookie,” I press. “You have to give me more than that.”

“Don’t get me wrong, camp is great. Really great.” she interjects quickly, almost too quickly. “But not everyone sits around the fire singing Kumbaya. Some campers, especially the vocalists, play dirty. All they care about is getting under the spotlights in the final show, and they’ll do whatever it takes to get there. No matter who they stab in the back.”

“Thanks for the warning,” I say. Her remarks are clearly aimed at someone in particular, but I won’t press her again. I can figure people out for myself pretty well. “So, all I have to do is avoid the bitches and I’ll be fine?”

“Pretty much.” Cookie’s mouth twitches upward at the edges. “You know, I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”

four

Ash

Despite it being the first official day of camp, most people are already settled in. Campers sit under trees and gather around cabins exchanging stories about what they’ve done over the last year. As Cookie and I stroll through the rows of cabins, stares burn into our backs and whispers follow us. The odd person waves at Cookie, but most of them ignore us entirely.

“Don’t worry,” Cookie reassures me. “It’ll die down soon, promise. They’re not used to newbies coming to camp for the final year.”

“Do they really have to stare so much?” I mutter. Beneath the postcard-perfect location, a strange power struggle is brewing. People are trying to assess whether I’ll be a threat. “It’s like I have three heads, or something.”

“You’re a viral hit, girl. You should embrace it.” She leads me down a fork in the forest path. “I’ll show you something that’ll take your mind off all that.”

“Woah.” My mouth falls open in awe at a large dome-shaped building ahead that takes my breath away. It’s a work of art. One side is made of glass, letting me see the wall of mirrors on the inside of the famous dance studio, where dancers are already stretching and practicing. “It’s…”

“Pretty special, right?” Cookie nods appreciatively. “Shame I can’t dance to save my life, not that it stops me.”

I laugh. “You can’t be that bad.”

“You wait until the next camp party. I’m a crazy dancer but have zero coordination,” she says. “There’s a reason I prefer to be backstage.”

We continue, leaving the dance studio behind and follow the gentle curve of the lake. I point across the water at four large beach houses positioned at the edge of the sand—they even have their own private beach.

“Who stays in those?” I point.

“That’s where the special guests and tutors stay.” Cookie rolls her eyes. “Behind those cabins are the exclusive accommodations for VIP campers. It’s kinda like a gated community within a gated community. Everyone in a VIP cabin has it all to themselves. It’s five times the size of ours, and some have their own hot tubs. When camp ends, that whole area turns into an exclusive holiday resort if you know the right people. You’ll learn that money can buy you everything in Camp Harmony from extra lessons, extra space, time in the spa…”

“Hold up.” I stop walking. “There’s a freaking spa here?”

“There sure is. How else do you think the diva’s function without a daily facial?” Cookie shakes her head sarcastically. “There’s also a salon and nail bar too. Some campers think a weekly pedicure is more essential than having three meals a day.”

“This really is another world…”

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