3. Active Mellon Collie

Sydney Lefkof (The Shadow) & Kaira Gula (Vincent) in rehearsal while Franklin Ferrer (Theo) waits for his next cue

The title is a not-so-quiet nod to Mellon Collie & the Infinite Sadness, but it’s also lifted from Vincent’s own letters. She described her condition as an “active melancholy.” In the 1800s, before the language we have now, that phrasing feels painfully precise.

This is almost an anti–“I Want” song. It’s about what she doesn’t get. What she keeps offering that isn’t enough. I knew I wanted it to live fully in early-2000s pop-punk like Brand New or Fall Out Boy…no restraint. If the opening number dipped a toe into that sound, this one dives straight in.

The song was written entirely on guitar, which is why it barrels forward without apology. The choruses grow so loud they nearly bury the vocal, mirroring Vincent’s own struggle to stay afloat inside her own head.

The Shadow…an anthropomorphic manifestation of Vincent’s anxieties, doubts, and fears…initially doubles her vocal line. It stays close, almost supportive, before slowly overtaking her voice entirely, slipping doubt into the music and briefly convincing her it might be right.

In the bridge, we hear, for the first time, the line:
“I have art, good nature, to impart. And if that is not enough…then what is?”

That question sits at the core of the show. It’s the anxiety beneath everything. The fear that if your best offering isn’t valued, maybe you aren’t either. I think a lot of artists know that spiral well.

During the final chorus, the strings introduce what I call the “passion motif.” It outlines the harmony underneath and plants a flag we’ll return to later. Like many things in this score, it shows up early, quietly, and waits for the right moment to mean something more.