October arrives soon enough and it hits me like a rock that I’ve spent a month here already. I’m not too sure what to feel about it, but I definitely haven’t noticed the time passing. One whole month spent in school and classes and taking a page out of Chris’s book learning how to torment the actors perfectly. He’s only started speaking to me recently after being sulky for a whole fortnight. He came to watch a rehearsal and said that it was so bad that he needed to take over again. His words were met with a huge cheer, including a loud one from me, because now I didn’t have to feel like it was my responsibility anymore. Chris changes a lot of scenes within minutes to scrutinize how they look from different interpretations or angles. He has no mercy and doesn’t hesitate to tell people how disgusting they look while performing. I don’t even know why these people love him. The thing about his antics though, are kind of lovable. He has a mischievous glint in his eyes and he’s always laughing and smiling. It irritates me to my core so I have no idea why I’m marching towards the football field in an 1800’s ball gown. Nobody knows I’m doing this, but according to Carla, this is one of the costumes which he finds ‘hilarious’ because it’s velvet and poofy and comes with a built-in paper fan. I’m fine in the silly heels because I don’t really mind them and as I get towards the field, I climb the stands steadily until everybody gathered to watch is staring at me. Most of them are from the school who’ve come to spend their free time beneath the sun and the winds but there are some people from the nearby local town as well. The ones from IBIS start hooting and clapping as I make my way through them and towards the players until Chris finally turns, stops and looks at me.
“I believe we had a deal, Ariti!” I yell.
Chris has been maintaining a sober, and slightly amused personality with me but for the first time since we disagreed, he cracks a smile and gestures to me to join him.
I walk towards him, “I’m requesting the first dance, dude.”
“You may have it,” he says bowing, “Dude.”
“I hate you,”
He raises an eyebrow, still uncertain. “I’ll let that comment pass.”
Unfortunately for me, I laugh.
A sound I haven’t heard from my body for the longest time.
The truth is I don’t hate him.
Just how he makes me feel.
He makes me happy. That’s the most horrible thing about him.
YOU ARE READING
This Is Ours
General FictionWhen her dad sends Kiara to a prestigious boarding school for artists in Singapore, she is determined to hate it. Just like she hates everything. But slowly, bit by bit, she begins to fall in love with the theatre, something she swore to condemn for...
