Masque (boyxboy)

23

~Corbyn~

I was stopped in the hallway on my way to dance, and I wondered who would dare to approach me. Who felt so bold that they thought they were worthy enough to talk to me and touch me?

I shouldn't have been surprised. I didn't need to see who it was to know.

"Nico Marlay, this had better be good," I grumbled firmly, sending him a seething glare.

"No need to get your blood pressure too high."

He stepped in front of me, daring to come closer.

"I have a class to get to. We're practicing for the pep rally on Friday."

"I don't care about the rally. You remember my name."

"Why wouldn't I? You bug me a lot."

"Yes, but I'm sure you don't despise me."

I grimaced in confusion. "What?"

"Last night, you said you only remember names of people you love or completely despise. So where do I fall on that spectrum?" His smirk made me roll my eyes.

"You're outside that spectrum, to be determined. Get out my way."

"Wait." He held me back and I grunted, gazing up at him. "I need to know why you ran out like that last night. It seemed you recognized Jett Michaels, then you fled. Who is he to you?"

I tightened my lips and ripped my arm from his grip. "I have no idea what you're talking about or who that is. Now, I need to get to class. Excuse me." My voice was so sharp that he knew I wasn't messing around. I didn't know why he was so concerned; shouldn't he be somewhere worshipping fallen angels?

I walked to my dance class, trying to expel all thoughts of Nico from my mind. It didn't exactly work out very well.

"You're late," the teacher acknowledged me when I walked in.

"Nice observation," I mumbled, kicking off my shoes. I received stares from the other students who had already began warm-ups. I frowned, rolling my eyes. Yes, I was wearing a sweatshirt and my hair was unkempt. Did I have to look perfect every single day just to be taken seriously?

I couldn't recall much about dance class that day, or any other classes that followed for that matter. I'd been in my head and I couldn't focus on reality.

That happened to me a lot these days. There was always this... disconnect. Like I needed to hold onto something or someone just to stay grounded in the world, rather than lose myself in my mind. But I didn't have that someone or thing.

That was the problem.

"Alright, I want you two to gaze into each other's eyes and have a moment. You're falling in love at first sight," Mr. Price directed during play rehearsals. I was sitting in the audience seats, staring at Jaden and Kris on stage as they acted one of the first few scenes.

I wanted to puke.

I sighed, reaching into my bag of pretzel sticks and chewing on one. I didn't even like pretzels. I was soon startled when someone crashed into the chair next to me, digging into the bag in my hand.

"Please disappear," I said without looking at my offender.

"I wanna know what he is to you."

"Kris is my boyfriend, and I'm currently holding down the vomit I want to project onto the stage if I have to watch this for another minute."

He ate his pretzel stick, unimpressed.

"You know who I meant. Besides, we can always ditch this shit." Nico turned toward me and I willed myself to block out his voice. "Okay, well, if you don't tell me, curiosity will get the best of me. So it's either you tell and I drop it, or I visit my boy Jett and ask him if he knows any Corbyn Starr."