Portray

Ty couldn't take his eyes off of the boy on the stage. He acted as if he were the character himself. The smallest change in facial expression; the slight inclination of the head; the the way he parted his lips for the tiny breath that lasted so long.

"Fifteen years of sweating in a living hell on a false charge," the boy muttered, loud enough for the whole auditorium to hear but low enough so that it fit in perfectly with the scene. "Fifteen years dreaming that I might come home to find a loving wife and child..." He lowered his head the smallest bit to stare into the projected fire as if it were real. He trembled.

The girl onstage next to him let out a low chuckle, a humorless half-smile accompanying raised eyebrows. "Well, I can't say the years have been particularly kind to you, Mr. Barker, but you still-"

"No, not Barker," the boy said in a low voice that had the tone of a decision and a hint of madness. "That man is dead. It's Todd now. Sweeny Todd..." Ty could see the glint of insanity in his eyes as he smirked coldly, dangerously, at the girl. "And he will have his revenge."

The play continued on. Ty was becoming more and more inspired by the boy onstage, but even though he was his peer, he couldn't remember his name. They had never really talked, but now Ty wished that they had.

His reason for being so enraptured in this boy? Ty was a writer. And a good one, at that. His stories had received much praise from those who had managed to get their hands on the spiral-bound notebooks that he so fiercely protected. He never liked the complements, though, because he didn't like his writing. In his eyes, there was something it was missing.

But maybe the boy could help him. If he acted as the characters, just little actions to make them human...yes, yes! That would allow Ty to capture the gestures and emotions that made a character truly a character.

The play eventually came to an end and there was polite applause throughout the audience, as called for in theatre etiquette. People began standing and leaving once the cast had made their bows, and Ty rushed out the door to try to intercept the boy.

He ended up in the parking lot, shivering in the cold weather. Ty wrapped his coat tightly around himself, his breath billowing out in front of him. His lungs were stinging from the freezing air and the dark night around him, despite being occasionally pierced by street lights illuminating the lot, made him paranoid.

He didn't know how long he had waited (pretty much everyone had gotten in a car and left) before the boy emerged, his hands stuffed in his pockets. The frizzy black-and-white wig that had covered his scalp was gone, revealing short, messy brown hair. Squarish glasses rested on his face and a plaid scarf was wrapped around his neck.

Ty's breath caught. His stomach tied itself in a knot as he slowly approached. The other boy looked up at Ty, alarm lighting up his eyes but fading a bit when he saw a classmate. They smiled at each other—nervous and questioning.

"Hey, I'm so sorry to bother you," Ty began, speaking quickly. "But we go to the same school and I was just wondering—I'm really sorry—if you could help me out with a creative writing project?" Surprise lit up the other boy's eyes and Ty hurried on, heat creeping into his cheeks. "I know this is really weird and awkward but you're an amazing actor—I hope you know that—and I just need someone to help me out with my character actions. I just need someone to perform...as the character?" He cringed and averted his eyes when the other boy gave a laugh.

"Yeah, sure," he grinned, his breath like a cloud around his head. "That sounds like fun. Meet before school tomorrow in room 203?"

Ty was dumbfounded. He had expected an awkward rejection. So, mutely, he nodded, a smile slowly spreading across his freezing face. "Yeah...yeah! Sure! That's perfect. Thank you so, so much!"