"Cut!"

Roman sighed and lowered his arms, stepping away from his dance partner. His feet were sore and he didn't get much sleep last night; not to mention they've been at this for hours, and a prince is flawless in all ways, but even he needed a break sometimes. He and Monica shot each other annoyed glances.

The director they had for this show? You wanna know what his name is? Huh? Do ya? It's Perfectionist. It sounds like a good thing, right? You'd want your show to be perfect, yeah? Nope. No, no no no no no nooo. It's the worst. He's running all of them to the bone and Roman doesn't even like cardio in the first place.

Perfectionist rubs the bridge of his nose as he steps up to the stage, clearly annoyed. "Pop Culture, what did I say about your arms? Higher! Higher!"

Monica huffs and lifts her arms up into position; her first pair of arms gracefully cross over her head, while her second pair reaches out to Roman. "Like this?"

"Elbows up!" Perfectionist shouted. "And you're still half a second slower than the beat, pick up the pace! You said you could salsa!"

"It's not her fault." Roman said, giving Perfectionist his best charming smile. "She's just a little tired. We all are. Can we have a break?"

Perfectionist scowled, but glanced around at the cast sitting around him. They were all exhausted, souls trying to escape through their eyes, some still panting hard. "Fine. Ten minutes and that's it. If any of you are a second late, you're off the show!"

"That would be a blessing at this point." Monica muttered in Roman's ear. He snorted and watched as their castmates surried off to the bathroom or to look through their backpacks.

Roman turned to her, placing a hand on her second, left wrist. He smiled sympathetically, "You okay?"

"Yeah." She sighed, rubbing her neck with one hand while fixing her dark ponytail with two others. "Have you noticed he only yells at me?"

"Kind of." Roman shot a glance at their director, who was now flipping through stage notes. "I don't think he's … fond of fusions."

Monica rolled her eyes, "Está justo enfadado porque es soltero."

"True." Roman laughed. He stretched and gestured to the door, "I'm going to go refill my water bottle, okay? I'll be back."

Monica waved him off, but she was holding her own hands distractedly. Roman watched her for a second before he grabbed his water bottle and jogged to the hall door. Roman frowned to himself as he thought. Monica can get weird sometimes, not like weird weird, but kind of weird weird, you know?

She talked to herself, often. And that was fine, sometimes yourself is a fantastic conversationalist. But the thing was, it wasn't actually herself, if you catch his drift. Roman didn't know a lot about fusions, but he did know that there was a lot happening in there at once. It was no wonder Monica couldn't keep up as much. She had to work harder than all the others here. This year, only Established and Sides made the cast, except for Monica. Pop Culture proved that she could keep up with them, but now Perfectionist was being even harder on her…..

The whole thing was very uncharming.

Despite this, Roman was sure about one thing, he was never going to fuse. It wasn't that he didn't like fusions, he just - well, okay, how should he put this, see, Roman is just the first human in all of existence to just not have Sides. He was born Established. That's just how he is. He is completely complete on his own. It's actually really impressive if you think about it.

Roman hummed to himself as he approached the water fountain. He watched as the water yeeted itself into his bottle.

"Pardon me, do you know the location of the Auditorium?" Someone asked from behind him.

Roman didn't look up - he didn't want to get water on his hands - as he said over his shoulder, "Down the hall and to the right, it'll be the first door on your left. Can't miss it."

The freshman - because it had to be a freshman on the cast who was lost, right? - said, "Thank you, greatly." and walked off.

Roman didn't think much else about it, removing his water bottle and tightening the lid back on it. Before going back to the auditorium, he stopped by the vending machines and bought a granola bar. He needed to keep his energy up or else Perfectionist will harp on him next.

Biting into his snack, he pushed through the doors and pulled out his phone; his water bottle tucked between his arm and his side. He checked his messages and noticed that he had a bitchton of texts from Remy and Disability. Just as he was about to click on their group chat, Perfectionist shouted, "SIDE! Get over here!"

Roman, along with multiple other panicked Sides, scrambled up to the stage. He got into position next to Monica and waited for the music to play. Monica grabbed his hands and whispered, "Why do we suddenly have an audience?"

"Hm?" Roman glanced out at the seats and, sure enough, there was now someone sitting out there. He couldn't see them through the stage lights, but he knew that he was being watched. He shrugged and grinned, "Guess it's showtime."

Monica couldn't help but let out a giggle as the music started and Roman whisked her off into a quick-footed dance. Roman grinned, twisting her around and swinging them across the stage. The other dancers were surrounding them, going through their own steps. Roman glanced over at the stranger in the seats, a small thrill running down his spine.

Weirdly, practice went much easier after that. Perfectionist wasn't as salty and they were able to finally get through the dance. Roman joked around with the others and they got a lot of work done. It was kind of unusual for them.

Once practice let out, Roman grabbed his backpack and opened his phone again. Just as he clicked on the group chat for him and his friends, someone tapped on his shoulder.

"Excuse me," Someone said.

Roman turned and looked at the person behind him. He frowned when he saw himself - but as a nerd - staring back. "Oh."

"My name is Logic and I was wondering if-" The man was saying. Roman took a step back, clutching his backpack strap tightly.

He relaxed once he realized that, duh, this guy was one of Remy and Missy's Sides. Forcing a smile, he took the other man's hand, shaking it. "Have you met your others yet?"

Logic's eyes widened in surprise, "Well, actually, no. That's why I'm here, I was-"

Roman laughed loudly, "Well you're not going to find them here! I can give you their number and you can go on your way, how about that?"

Logic's expression retreated slightly, his head cocking to the side and his lips lowering from their small smile. "What do you mean?"

"Your other Sides?" Roman said innocently. "They aren't actors."

Logic was growing suspicious, or at least, moderately confused. "Why is the idea that we're not compatible so preposterous?"

Well, because you just used the word 'preposterous', Roman thought. He shrugged, allowing his smile to fall a little, "Because I don't have any Sides. I'm already Established."

Logic frowned, "But the instructor called you 'Side'."

Roman took a couple steps towards the front door, "It's a coincidence. Look, if you want me to introduce you to some actual Sides, I can, but otherwise, I have to go, so…"

The other man didn't respond, so Roman walked out. His heart was beating like he just did a jazz number, and he couldn't quite catch his breath. He shoved his shaking hands into his pockets while he tried to push away all the weird, unprincely feelings inside him.

As he walked home, he couldn't help but wonder about that Side - Logic. Should he tell Remy and Missy about him? He certainly looked like them. Maybe they were one step closer to becoming Established.

Just like him.


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