It is now the early evening. The Angel’s-Tears guests have all gathered in the amphitheater, mingling and making small talk. There is a new addition to the crowd: THE ENLIGHTENED.

Behind the amphitheater’s curtains, SONGBIRD warms her voice with vanilla Coke and vocal exercises. Her voice cracks on an especially high note - she interrupts herself and sips on her soda.

Capitulating to her anxiety, with a nervous, almost masochistic involuntary movement, SONGBIRD peeks behind the curtain to look at the crowd. Her eyes come to rest on ENLIGHTENED.

SONGBIRD’s tension doesn’t diminish so much as change from a generalized anxiety to timid curiosity. She is sure she has seen ENLIGHTENED frequently before, but cannot place her finger on when or where.

SONGBIRD leans against the wall and places her hand over her estranged heart. She sighs, steels herself for a second, then crosses the floor, bee-lining towards ENLIGHTENED. Upon reaching her, she stops for a moment to collect herself, then calls out.

SONGBIRD: Excuse me...!