𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚎? {𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚘𝚗}

'ᴊᴏʏᴋɪʟʟ,

"Neil, there is no way you can send that," I paced around his room with the fake letter of permission clasped around my fingers. "Absolutely not. You could get into serious trouble for this."

Todd was sitting on his bed, watching my protest. He was the one who knocked on my door, anxious about my brother's rash decision. He looked momentarily confused by Charlie sprawled on my bed.

"Sorry to interrupt," He paused, "Neil– He... He's feigning his letter of permission for the play. They said they wanted Mr Nolan and your father's approval to assign him the role–"

He looked pained as if telling me this violated his relationship with Neil. I squeezed his shoulder, trying to offer some reassurance.

"Go," I told Todd, then turned to Charlie, motioning him to stand up. "We'll be there. I won't tell him you told me, don't worry."

Neil ripped the parchment out of my hand. At my refusal to let go, he snatched harder tearing it into two distinct pieces. A vicious silence followed. He dropped the piece in his hand and wordlessly sat back on his chair, staring down at his feet. He looked defeated, and my heart dropped.

"Neil..."

He shook his head, stopping the words in my throat.

"Just go." He sank his head on his desk, breathing shakily. I could tell he was trying to keep his anger in. More than that, he was trying not to show his pain.

Charlie placed his hand on my elbow, guiding me out. His jaw was ticked, it almost made him look like a different person - a serious man. I wanted to cry at that moment, hide in his arms and forget about what happened. I looked back at Todd and mouthed a sorry, he offered a sad smile in response.

. . . ____ ♡ ____ . . .

Two days went by. Neil avoided me to a great extent and didn't even look in my general direction. The vice grip of my guilt slowly released itself when I saw him laughing with the boys. I heard Charlie say that Neil is going to be amazing in the role of Puck and silently agreed.

Realising that my anxiety was built up for nothing was vexing, but I maintained my distance anyway. I was satisfied that he was happy, and I refused to ruin it as I did before.

Charlie was laughing, I admired him from my desk at the front. His eyes met mine, and I had a feeling this wasn't the first time he had stared at me. His gaze softened when he saw me staring back, he raised his eyebrow. A silent indication to join them; something he had been coercing me into for the past days.

"Dels, come on," He kissed my neck, taking the pencil out of my hand. "I know you've written your poetry already, we need to talk about Neil."

"There's nothing to talk about," I pushed him to the other side of the bed. He made a show of falling off, pretending to be hurt by my acidity. We both knew I needed him around. He made sure to make an excuse to spend his free time with me while the others stuck together.

"Don't you have to write your assignment?" I glanced back, he was dusting himself off.

He beamed his signature cocky grin, then adapted a thick, foreign accent to exaggerate. "We, madame, are the people of heart. We do not need a paper to contain our poetry – the entire world is my poetry!"

I bit the inside of my cheek, refusing the blooming smile resulting from his antics.

"That's a no, then."

He bit my shoulder, earning a loud yelp as a response. I slapped him away, rubbing at the now sensitive spot. "You were being a joy kill."

By now, I had realised his remarks were never meant in a cruel way. I stuck my tongue out in answer, "You have too much joy, I'm just maintaining a good balance."