I took drama class because I was amazing at acting like a girl

Hi everyone!

This is the first original work I've ever posted so tell me what you think with a comment or bothering me on Twitter or Tumblr!

One this: all the characters, all of them, from the two protagonists to all the various background characters, are partially inspired by real people that have been in my life so, all in all, there's a subtle undertone of reality to all of this. This said, though, the story is the fruit of my imagination and nothing is real.

I really hope you'll like it!

Please be careful out there, protect yourself wearing your mask and doing social distancing even if you already got your vaccine shot!

Without further ado, I leave you to the story!

Until next time,

-Hh

*

It wasn't exactly a high school class reunion but it came very very close; most of his high school mates would be there, at this get together party at Kira's parents' house. Ash didn't even know why he said he would be there. It wasn't like he was still friends with any of them, almost nine years after his graduation; and he hadn't spoken or seen literally any of them in years. Four years, to be exact. Ash was definitely better off without them. Al, his ex who he had ghosted more than five years back, would be there, Kira, the closest thing he had to a best friend in those years and who he hadn't spoken to in three years barring the occasional 'Merry Christmas' texts, would be there; every single one of the fuckers Ash had really no intention of ever see again in his life would be there. His high school years had been a nightmare and a half and, really, why had Ash said yes to this thing? There wasn't a single thing he would enjoy. What even was the point of going?

"I can feel you sulking from here!" Ash groaned as quietly as he could and finished pulling on his dark blue jeans with a roll of his eyes. "And don't roll your eyes at me!" "I didn't." Ash huffed quietly before venturing in the semi-disaster zone that was their walk-in closet and looking for a t-shirt. Honestly, he got lucky. Really really lucky. He hadn't been looking for a relationship or a romantic interest back then when he met Matt and still – and still – he lucked out. Matt was funny and loving and with the ugliest laugh Ash had even heard and still – and still – Matt put up with him. What, exactly, that social butterfly saw in him was still a mystery for Ash. They couldn't possibly be more different; and still – and still – Matt stuck around and pestered him and Ash gave in, and kept giving in, because Matt was the best fucking thing that had ever happened to him.

Ash grabbed a plain white shirt from a drawer and put it on with an uninterested shrug of his shoulders; he really didn't want to go so he wasn't going to put some effort into his outfit. Matt was doing that more than enough for the both of them: that flaming disaster had spent two whole hours rifling through the closet looking for the perfect outfit; Ash had just nodded, not even looking up from the book he was reading, at every single one Matt had showed him. Ash took a couple of hesitant steps toward the jackets ranks, debating with himself if this thing was actually worth an actual, real jacket, then strode toward the sweatshirts' drawers with a confidence he didn't really feel. He stared for all of twenty seconds at the colorful assortment of clothes before grabbing the lilac one; it had a glow-in-the-dark alien spaceship on the front and Matt had bought it for him when he had finally come around and admitted that the alien documentary he was forced to watch wasn't that bad.