THE HIT SHOW [ONGOING]

ACT 2 SCENE 3: The Fire Within

Despite the harsh, freezing weather, the swim team commenced.

Sylvie curled in Willow's bed. Her body had given up on her, causing her limbs to struggle to climb her bunk. Instead, Willow offered Sylvie to sleep in the bottom bunk.

Sylvie's pale skin was etched with light freckles. Her cheeks and lips were crimson, almost darkening the ice blue of her eyes. She pulled the blanket closer to her chest as she heaved in hair and breathed it out from her mouth.

"Get some rest, I'll be at theatre."

Willow gave her friend a pat on the head before leaving. She didn't feel like going to today's practice, as she would predominantly be alone. Nahil had told her that he wouldn't be attending today and that he had some studying to catch up on. It was his right to do so but Willow felt an urge to tell him to come anyway.

Another part of her wondered what exactly Nahil was studying for. They had just kick-started the term, but she didn't question that either. She would be able to manage a day on her own. Unknown to her, Nahil had still felt the urge to attack Ivan and he needed to learn to control his feelings. He hated when the rich thought they had authority over him. He hated them telling him what to do. For tonight, he would work on cooling it off.

~~~

For a mouthy girl, Willow was awfully quiet. She stood around as Leon delivered another useless motivational talk and the team went off to practice while the background crew worked on their individual tasks.

Willow was to design the throne on her own for now. She thought that she would need to sand it before she would be able to paint anything on it. The wood of the chair was still glossed and scratched. She took a piece of sandpaper that had been picked up by the other set design members and began sanding at the chair.

After a couple of rubs, she lifted the sandpaper off the surface, to reveal the small patch of raw wood.

This is going to take forever...

Trying to ignore her thoughts, she busied herself with her lonesome task.

~~~

As the theatre kids pack up and are ready to leave, Willow asks to stay back a little longer. Leon considers it before allowing her to and reminds her to be out before the curfew. Since she was working on the set, it benefitted the whole team for her to work ahead of time. Leon lived for the passionate team members.

Undisclosed to him, Willow was far from passionate. She was bored and she felt a sense of distraction from the task. It allowed her to forget about everything and focus on a simple task.

Willow remained in her spot, the area just behind the stage curtain, sanding away the polished wood. An abrupt chime of music began to fill the theatre. A song with a certain step, like a waltz. It took her a moment to process that was happening before she recognised the same song.

It was the waltz that was to be played in the scene when the King meets the Princess. Then it hit her, Ivan and Isla were probably on stage with her.

Willow focused on the chair and vigorously sanded the wood beyond its raw skin. Now, a shrill of giggles filled the air, causing Willow to scratch her knuckles against the brittle sandpaper.

With a soft curse, Willow looks up at the velvet curtain, seeing a tall Ivan through the slim opening between the two stage curtains. Her curious eyes searched the scene of Ivan spinning Isla, pulling her close to his body, placing a hand on her cheek and the other gripping her waist.

Although his slim fingers seemed gentle, his grip seemed possessive almost.

Willow rolled her eyes and looked away, focusing on her task once more.

When the music came to a halt, Willow let out a sigh of relief and kept her sanding slow. She was nowhere near done, but at least had the backrest of the chair already sanded.

"Hey! I didn't know you were in here."

Willow rolled her eyes. She knew exactly who that was. She looked back to see a grinning Ivan stand behind her. His golden locks tussled to the side, his t-shirt tugged on the left, exposing a little more of his collarbone.

In an instant, Ivan left, as he hadn't heard a response from Willow. She, on the other hand, was glad, as she had no time to deal with him. Sanding away, she heard the music play once more. The distance steps now closer, causing her to look back once again.

"I still need to practice my waltz. Could you...help me by any chance?"

Willow let out a laugh. She didnt intend to, it only seemed natural for her to.

"I'm sure you can manage on your own. Besides, if you actually practiced with Isla, rather than feel her up, you would've had more than enough practice."

Ivan was left dumbfounded and Willow was left cleaning the dust with a damp cloth.

Waking up to his sense, the boy crouched down and tried to take cloth from her.

"You need some -"

"No."

Willow continued to wipe the stage floor, clearing the dust particles. Ivan watched her as she worked quickly, to avoid another second with Ivan.

Ivan propped a knee up, resting his chin against it. His eyes wondered from her lips, to her small chin, then to her arms and her hands. He fixated his gaze on her hands a little longer before standing up to find a clean towel to dampen.

Willow let out a sigh of relief. She thought that Ivan had finally gotten a clue and decided to leave her alone. However, to her surprise he hadn't left.

He sat on the stage floor once again, his dark trousers collecting dust at his knees. Before Willow could ponder on his actions, he took her hand in his and began to press the cool damp cloth against her knuckles.

Willow had the urge of banging her head against the wall. She hated how he never got a clue.

"Oh my gosh, it's just a scratch! Let go!"

Despite her efforts of pulling away, Ivan kept a firm grip on her hands.

Willow stopped fighting it, and gazed up at the stage lights. The way he worked so tenderly on her gave a sense of relaxation. She then glanced at him, to remind herself that he was in fact a stranger and was friends with Veronica. She knew not to trust any of them.

Her eyes began to study him and the way the stage light singled him out. His autmn eyes now spring and green with its embers, the gold of his hair now glowing deep bronze. He certainly was the star of the show.

"All done."

Willow diverted her eyes and gave him a nod, pulling her hands away from his.

"Thanks," she murmured.

With a sudden jolt of energy, Willow stood up and made her way out of the theatre, as quickly as she could. She tried to keep her hands clenched at her sides.

She was burning.

No, her cheeks were burning.

And she hated him for doing that to her.