"Why does today feel like the end of the world?"
The morning air was fresh. The sun was barely up.
And inside our room?
Absolute chaos.
"WHERE'S MY CURLING IRON!" Arisa screamed, both hands deep inside her suitcase like she was mining for treasure.
Nao zipped from corner to corner like a malfunctioning Roomba, holding up outfits and then violently rejecting them seconds later.
"This is too childish! This is too bold! This is, AHH WHY DON'T I HAVE NORMAL CLOTHES?!"
Reina was sitting on her futon, perfectly still. Calm on the outside. Her hands folded in her lap. But every so often her eyes darted to her folded script, then to her suitcase, then to Nao's outfit, then back to her script.
Yeah. The calm before the internal meltdown.
Then there was Yuki.
Leaning against the wall.
Already dressed.
A simple, white, flowing summer dress, not too flashy, not too plain.
Elegant. Effortless. It matched her unreadable face perfectly.
She didn't say a word. Didn't comment on the noise. Just sipped her tea and stared out the window.
I wanted to say something—anything—to break the weird energy, but before I could, Arisa's eyes snapped toward me.
"SOUTA—OUT. Boys aren't allowed to witness pre-performance rituals!"
"What?"
"OUT. OUT. OUT." She literally threw a slipper at me.
Fine.
I escaped before a flat iron came flying at my skull.
*
Sigh.
I rubbed the back of my head, trying to process the mental damage.
Why was I the nervous one?
I wasn't even auditioning…
Or well, I was, but not for anything.
That's what I kept telling myself.
As I passed the lobby, I spotted Shirori standing at a vending machine, headphones in, mumbling her lines under her breath, eyes sharp as a blade. I instantly dipped behind a potted plant like a cartoon.
Please don't see me.
Please don't see me.
Thankfully, she didn't. Too locked in her zone. Too focused on being terrifying.
I hurried down the corridor before she could smell my fear.
*
Shinji waved me over with two fingers, already grinning. "Yo, lover boy! Over here!"
Oh boy.
I sat down at a long table where Shinji, Subaru, and Felix were gathered around a tray of eggs and miso soup.
"You ready to kiss a girl on stage?" Subaru asked with a smirk.
"Uhhh…"
Felix leaned in, grinning. "C'mon, tell us. Which one are you hoping wins the role? Huh? You've got options, man."
I rubbed my eyes. "Honestly? I don't know. I like them enough to the point that I don't think I could pick."
Shinji tapped his chopsticks against his bowl. "Damn, you're in deep, huh?"
"Not helping."
Then Felix added, "What if that Shiori girl wins?"
I stopped mid-chew.
"...It's unideal," I admitted. "Not because she's a bad person or anything, I don't even really know her. But she's putting everything into this. She wants it. So I guess... the least I can do is take it seriously too."
That got them quiet for a second.
"Damn," Subaru muttered. "That's kinda noble."
"Or whipped," Felix said, sipping his miso.
"Either way," Shinji said, "she's hot."
"Not helping," I repeated.
Then a hand landed on my shoulder.
I turned to see the drama teacher, bearded, always smiling like he had secrets.
"Ahh, Souta-kun. Here's your script," he said, handing me a small, stapled booklet.
"Thanks."
I flipped through it while walking back toward the room, skimming past awkward lines, a magical beast scene, some emotional stuff… and then...
'With a final whisper, the princess collapses into an enchanted sleep. The prince, unable to break the curse with words, gives her one final kiss to awaken her heart.'
…
Great.
A kiss.
I shut the script and stared at the hallway ceiling like it could offer me a way out.
It didn't.
Just one question played on loop in my head:
Who's gonna be the one on that stage… when it happens?
We ate fast, too fast, if I'm being honest. My stomach was doing somersaults that even Nao would be impressed by.
Then we arrived.
The small theatre hall.
The cursed building that sealed my fate.
The seats were slowly filling with students, our classmates, acquaintances, and about six people I've never spoken to but somehow know everything about my life because they've heard Arisa scream it from across the schoolyard.
Great.
I didn't want to be here.
Correction, I didn't want to be seen here. But that dream crumbled when the teacher gleefully dragged me backstage like a kidnapped stagehand.
Since I had the lead male role, I wouldn't be auditioning like the girls.
Is what any normal person would say at this time but.
Oh no.
I'd be on stage the whole time, helping each girl act out her scene so the teachers could judge chemistry and performance.
According to my overly passionate, clearly sadistic teacher, it would be great "practice" for overcoming stage fright.
"For you not to be on stage would be a waste of everyone's time," he'd said cheerfully.
"This is your chance to embody your role fully, emotionally, physically."
…Physically?
I didn't want to ask.
In my head, my response was simple:
"Kindly go screw yourself, sir."
Backstage was a jungle of chaos.
Girls doing their makeup with trembling hands.
Scripts being flipped open and reread like exam cheats.
Three different perfumes battling in the air like rival gangs.
Arisa was adjusting her ponytail for the fifth time.
Nao was spinning in place, muttering lines under her breath and nearly tripping over a folding chair.
Reina, calm on the outside, was clearly screaming on the inside. Her grip on her script was so tight I thought the paper might file for abuse.
Then, her.
Shiori.
She sat alone in front of a mirror, legs crossed, back straight, eyeliner in hand.
Her script? Closed. Untouched. Untouched because she'd already memorized every word. Probably rehearsed it in a thunderstorm on top of a cliff like a movie poster.
She looked into the mirror and caught my reflection.
Her expression was unreadable.
But her eyes?
Laser focus.
That girl wasn't here to "try."
She was here to win.
I quickly looked away and peeked through the curtain.
Big mistake.
The seats were now packed.
Laughter. Whispers. Phones out.
Half the class was here just for entertainment, not enlightenment.
But that wasn't what made my blood run cold.
Front row.
Middle seat.
That guy.
The same tall, quiet one from before.
He sat with his hands folded, wearing a long jacket and a cap pulled low.
His face was mostly in shadow, but I knew it was him. His eyes were locked in my direction.
No one else seemed to notice him.
He didn't look like a student. Didn't talk. Didn't blink.
I ducked back behind the curtain like I'd been shot.
"Nope. Not today. Not dealing with stalker-san on top of acting."
"Maybe it's just my nerves. Yeah. Probably that... probably... definitely... hopefully?"
My brain spun in loops while my stomach practiced interpretive dance.
And then.
The mic squealed. The teacher cleared her throat.
"Alright! First up, Nao and Souta!"
My soul left my body.
I looked at Nao, who was already looking at me, our eyes locked with each other for a second before I gave a grin.
"Let's not make ourselves look too stupid now, hahaah." My chuckle was soft, but honestly, there was nothing to laugh about; I was crapping myself.
Nao looked quieter, like she was trying to act like Reina, and she smiled back at me.
"Let's do this, Souta." She said before slowly walking onto the stage.
God, if you're real, help me was the last thing I said to myself before also walking onto the stage...