"Join the Improv Club, Harold. It'll be fun, Harold. Yeah, right…"

Harold couldn't help but grumble to himself, impatiently drumming his fingers against his knee as he observed the worst improv comedy performance he had ever witnessed. The boy and girl before him were supposed to be acting as surfers at a fifties diner discussing the media, but they were barely saying anything at all, let alone playing their roles. Sure, this was an amateur club, but no one seemed to be even trying to make an effort.

The blond groaned for what felt like the billionth time that afternoon. He usually wasn't one to get so aggravated about something so trivial, but that sure was taking the cake. When he and George noticed the flyer for the Improv Club pinned on the cafeteria bulletin board and the latter suggested he should try it because it could be fun, he simply shrugged and agreed. It was a college Improve Club; how bad could it be?

That bad.

Upon arriving at the location where the club would be meeting, he was actually expecting some sort of professionalism from the members, but all he got was a classroom with a bunch of chairs displayed in a circle and a handful of freshmen who almost looked like they had been forced to join. The whole thing was being supervised by a tired-looking senior who was the only taking things seriously. He had told everyone to write their names down on pieces of paper to draw up each pair of participants, then asked everyone to come up with professions, locations and conversation topics for the them to play out, also to be written down on pieces of paper.

So far, about half of the people in the room had participated, and at that point Harold would be thrilled if they ran out time before he could be chosen.

"Thank you, Melissa and Jeremy, for that… interesting effort." Said the club president, shuffling the papers with the names as the aforementioned students returned to their seats. "Up next we'll have the privilege of watching the comedic stylings of…" he paused as he withdrew a piece of paper. "…Harold Hutchins."

Harold's head perked up when he heard his name finally being called. He slowly pushed himself off of his chair and sluggishly made his way to the center of the room, hoping to get that ordeal over with as soon as he could.

"And he will be joined by…" the club president continued as he drew up another name. "…Billy Doanbee-Ahiro."

Just as he wondered who could possibly possess such an odd-sounding name, Harold noticed a boy stand up on the other side of the room. As he started to walk towards him, only one thought crossed Harold's mind:

'He is way too well-dressed to be college student.'

He wasn't exactly wearing a suit, although he wasn't too far from it. The white dress shirt and black khakis he wore were ironed to perfection, not a single wrinkle in sight. Had he even sat down?

Everything about his appearance was impeccable. His hair was flawlessly combed, his small beard neatly trimmed, and his glasses didn't have a speck of dirt on them. Harold didn't even know that was possible.

As he finally reached his spot in the middle of the room, Harold gave him another thorough once-over and realized just how nervous the guy was. His face was flushed and he could tell his hands were shaking, even though he was rubbing them together. He shot Harold a small nervous smile, which the blond returned immediately.

"So… Billy Doanbee-Ahiro?" Harold stifled a chuckle. "You know that kind of sounds like –"

"It was my mom's favorite song, OK?" he quickly interrupted, the redness on his cheeks increasing. "When my parents got married, they decided to hyphenate their last names. And then when my mom found out she was having a boy, well… you probably know the rest. Honestly, sometimes I think she only married my dad for the joke."

"Sounds like you've told that story many times before."

"You have no idea…" Billy sighed.

"Alright gentlemen, today you will be portraying…" the club president cut in as he took out a piece of paper from the profession pile, cocking a brow upon reading it. "…an anime high school couple. OK, who wrote this?"

They all heard a giggle coming from a geeky girl on the far end of the room, although Harold and Billy were more focused on taking in that new piece of information. As if the situation wasn't awkward enough already…

Harold couldn't really tell, but he imagined his blush was now rivaling Billy's.

"Sure, fine, let's just go with it." The club president shrugged as he took out two more pieces of paper. "Harold and Billy are an anime high school couple at… a bus stop, and they're discussing… current events."

Great setting. Nice and vague.

Harold glanced up at Billy, whose blush had gotten so deep that he was surprised his nose wasn't bleeding. He seemed so embarrassed about the whole situation that it looked like he was about to pass out any second now.

He felt sorry for the guy. He probably joined the club thinking it would be a fun experience, just like he had. Now he was a nervous wreck, his whole body trembling, his teeth biting into his rosy bottom lip…

His big chocolate-brown eyes glued to the floor…

His glossy raven hair shining under the fluorescent lighting…

Harold shook his head and took a deep breath. If he had to do this, he was going to do it right.

"So… Miki-chan!" Harold started halfheartedly, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Nice weather we're having, huh?"

Billy was now staring wide-eyed at the blond, clearly surprised about him taking the initiative. Harold gestured for him to continue and the brunet gave him a smile before breathing in.

"You can say that again, uh… Eren-kun!" Billy stammered uneasily. "But the forecast called for heavy showers this weekend."

"Great, I can finally take my weekly bath!" Harold declared a little too enthusiastically, earning a chuckle from Billy and from a few members of the 'audience'. "Speaking of which, did you hear about that toilet-themed restaurant that just opened over at Curmudgeon Boulevard?"

"You mean the one where all the waiters are named John?" Billy snorted.

"Yeah, that's the one. We should go there on our next date! I heard their urinal cakes are to die for."

"Sounds wonderful." Billy replied, trying desperately not to laugh. "I bet they have some lovely fine china."

"Yeah, but their dessert selection isn't very good. All you get is a wide assortment of nuts."

Billy couldn't hold it in any longer; he doubled over and laughed hysterically, along with everyone else in the room. Harold released a few chuckles himself, a wide grin spreading across his face.

He wasn't sure if it was the pride of making Billy laugh or the fact that his laughter was so contagious, but watching him laugh with tears running down his face made his heart swell.

"OK, OK, settle down." The club president spoke up, a bit breathless from laughing. "I'm sorry to cut this brilliant performance short, but unfortunately we're all out of time for today, so we'll have to pick this up again next week. Thank you all for coming."

As the club members dispersed and exited room, some of which giving Harold praises on their way out, Billy was still trying to catch his breath as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

"I don't think I've ever laughed that hard in my life." Billy panted. "You're good."

"So I've been told." Harold said proudly. "You weren't too bad yourself."

"Nah… I have terrible stage fright. I'm only here because my therapist said it would be a good way to overcome it."

"Well, you could've fooled me… Miki-chan." Harold snickered.

"Gee, thanks, Eren-kun." Billy smirked, cocking a brow. "I might just take you up on that date idea."

"You know that was just part of the bit, right?" Harold chuckled nervously, feeling his cheeks warm up a bit.

Billy held out his hand, beckoning Harold to give him his. He hesitated at first but ultimately complied, feeling rather confused. Billy held his hand and turned his palm upwards as he took out a pen from his shirt pocket, pulling out the cap with his mouth. He scribbled something on Harold's palm as gently as he could, the tip tickling against the blond's skin. As soon as he released his hand, Harold took it up to his face to inspect what the brunet had written, his eyes instantly widening and his face flushing even more.

A phone number.

He looked up at Billy, his cheeks looking as red as his own as he smiled softly at him.

"I'll be waiting." He said before walking towards the door.

Harold watched him as he headed out into the hallway, his heart beating so fast it felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. He looked down at the numbers written down on his palm, noticing that Billy's handwriting was just as neat as his appearance.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he joined the Improv Club, but it sure wasn't that.

When the feeling finally returned to his legs, he practically wobbled as he walked out of the room, still a bit flabbergasted about what had just happened.

"Dude, there you are!"

Harold almost jumped out of his skin when he heard George calling him from not too far away.

"What took you so long? Everyone left already!" George stated as he walked up to him. "So, how was it?"

Harold looked back down at his hand, Billy's phone number now a bit smudged due to his sweat. He smiled tenderly to himself before looking back up at his best friend, feeling his cheeks warm up again.

"You were right." He sighed, his body feeling unusually light. "It was fun."