cue: confusion [IT FANFICTION]

i put the read in existential dread

Firstly, nobody said this show would be a two month long progress. For that, I blame the movies.

I even swapped out my usual pessimistic asshole persona for one of excitement and motivation and such! It was all I could do for my friends' sake, although I didn't need to read for this rehearsal. I did, though, size up the competition.

[THEATER KIDS: SINGLE AND READY TO MINGLE TO AN UNCOMFORTABLE DEGREE]

[ENTER: BEN HANSCOM, MY SAVIOR]

He really was the kind of person you didn't have to force a smile around, because he wouldn't be inconvenienced by your emotions whether they were positive or negative. (He was also practically the only source of companionship I had in response to being a stagehand.) I offered a smile as I sat next to him on the bench against the wall, a safe distance from all impending chaos.

Secondly, even from an outsider standpoint, I could already form theories about everybody in this room.

(One of the perks of being a writer.)

This probably only heightened how weird I looked to everybody else, with my already not great reputation in the world of theater. I could only hope nobody was staring back at me as I judged them.

MISTAKE MISTAKE MISTAKE MISTAKE

It turns out I wouldn't be the only one surveying the area, as I forced myself to quickly avert my widened eyes from the unusually calm Stanley "stage manager" Uris as he responded to my judgemental look with a quizzical one.

(It was moments like these that I cursed myself for my lack of subtlety. I would otherwise be a great contender for that one "leader of a ragtag group of kids" in some campy horror movie.)

I was about to crawl out of my skin when Ben mercifully broke the silence with a question. "You're familiar with the show?"

"Hm?"

"A Midsummer Night's Dream."

"Oh, yeah," I responded, before adding, "V-vaguely."

"Vaguely?" I heard an incredulous voice from some girl that looked like she freely approached strangers quite often, AKA the polar opposite of every normal human being but the epitome of not-giving-a-shit. "Have you even read the script?"

"Um... s-ss-some of it...?"

-10000 coolness points

"Stagehands are pretty important to the show." Ben offered quietly. "Otherwise the actors would just have to move everything in the scene while delivering dialogue..."

She ignored Ben. "You're lucky you're a stagehand," She announced with a sigh, earning some curious glances. I currently wanted nothing more than to melt into the ground, so I desperately hoped an awkward laugh would cut it for a response. "You know, you don't even have to get into character. I envy you."

I assumed that conclusion would be obvious because a stagehand isn't a character in the show? but before I could enlighten her, another voice, familiar this time, chipped in.

"I'd argue keeping you guys in line is a bit more difficult than staying in the character of Guard #2."

She scoffed. "Nice one, Uris. You're the one who does the same shit every year, at least I can switch it up."

Ben spoke up again. "I don't really understand why you're starting a conflict right now- wait." He looked at the girl genuinely. "Are you getting into character?"

There was a slight pause we collectively blinked, before the girl started to smile. "You know what? I could get used to you. You get it." She gave him a pat on the back that looked just a tiny bit aggressive, but maybe she was still in character. I was still dumbfounded by this random exchange, fidgeting with the script in my hands and biting the inside of my cheek, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The girl's laughter rang in my ears like a bell, and I tried to mask my discomfort with an awkward smile.