A/N: Hey ya'll! Thanks to Throne-Gal for reviewing. hands lassos, bunnies, etc. I love the humor in this chapter…

XXXXX

"No dear, that's the thing, you are drunk."

Under most circumstances, a balding, high-school physics teacher trying to persuade a slightly feeble-witted blonde sophomore that she was under the influence of alcohol would be looked on as scandalous, but Krista Meyers viewed it as pure genius—unlike when he had cast the girl. Then, Mr. Louis had told her that there were two types of casting—The cast of an 'actor' who didn't play the role, they were the role on and off stage; and the casting of a true artisté who felt the depth of a part with their very soul, and could display at any time. The selection of Missy Malone was, obviously, a role casting.

The black-haired, onyx-eyed senior viewed the situation with the intensity of an aspiring ballerina watching a professional onstage, or a heroine addict watching his deal switch hands. She was so wrapped up in her observance that she didn't catch Luther come up behind her.

"Oh my god, the costumes, the costumes!"

She whirled around, sun-whipped cheeks flaring pink as she saw the delicately boned understudy leaning against a wall smirking. Her heart, which had already plummeted to her feet at the though of what else could have gone with the costumes, rose to it's normal level as she steered him down the hall with a hand like steel.

"What do you think your doing?!" She hissed, "What if Mr. Louis had heard you? How would you explain yourself?" Inwardly, she was grinning as much as he was. "Well," he drawled, "I would have told him that I was attempting to give you a heart attack so that you'd finally get some of the rest you desperately need." She rolled her eyes, "I'm fine, and I don't need half the GSA and Anime Club swarming after my ass when I have a teensy little collapse. And it wasn't even a collapse, I just like…tripped and didn't get up…" She ran out of steam part way through and threw her arms around the boy.

As one would think from her enthusiastic greeting, it had been a while since Krista and Luther had seen each other. They perfectly complemented each other in everything except sexuality, Luther tending a bit more towards the male crowd, sometimes more than Krista (who was quite straight, thank you very much). He was the fashion guru who managed to keep her social life from crashing and burning, and she was the sharp intelligence and practicality that kept his algebra grade afloat. She was the one who steered him directly through most emotional crises, and he advised her on where, when, and how to keep the majority of the school from labeling her a leper.

She led him up the stairs from the seats, backstage, downstairs to the dressing rooms, down the hall up the stairs to the prop room, and made a sharp left past the door that led to the loading dock. They came to a small, drafty room, that barely held a decaying orange loveseat, a scarred left-handed desk, a vanity table, mirror, and a chair that Krista though may have been there since the school's founding. Krista opened her mouth to speak, and a peppy ringtone came out. "Oh crap, that's me." He picked up his cellphone—the latest with camera, Internet, rings, the works. Punching a few select buttons, he smiled. "Gotta run, sweetie," He gave her a tight hug and took off in an elegant lope down the hall. "Duty calls!" She chuckled and shut the door behind him. "Duty being that Brad probably got off work early." Pulling on an old gray running jacket over her black turtleneck, she flopped down on the couch, immediately enveloped by a cloud of dust. She coughed slightly, then closed her eyes to attempt to collect her thoughts. She had only been Assistant Director of South Hawthorne High's musical, Guys & Dolls, for a week, and it seemed like a billion things had happened. The costumes had to be repaired, her parents had separated, the sets weren't right, a stage light had gone out, Luther had officially come out, Missy had a fit over every little thing, they may have gone overbudget, and Krista basically had moved into the old Director's office.

Trying to sort out what she'd have to deal with this afternoon, when she was going to fit in an English paper, and if she'd have time to eat, Krista fell asleep with her head pillowed in her arms, dreaming of dulce de leches doing the can-can…

XXXXX

A/N: The last line might make more sense if you've seen G&D. If you keep with the story, you'll understand it later…Review, my minions! Next chapter will be Erik POV 3rd, no worries. -Kess