It was just Goten's luck that Denim, the kid whose leg was broken because of the accident he (and Trunks) had inadvertently caused, had been cast as the male lead, 'Romeo'.
It was just his luck, that Mrs. Encore had decided despite his pleading to do anything, anything else, that Goten would take on that role in his place, given the circumstances. That it would be 'a perfect way for him to experience the true heart and soul of the theatre'.
He hadn't like the idea of being cast in a minor role, and now he'd have to play the lead? In front of the entire school? And he only had two months to prepare? There was no way that was happening. He needed to find a way out of this, fast.
He was just about to throw on his headphones and head home when Bulla approached him, wearing a scowl that was oh-so reminiscent of her father's. "I just want to tell you, a lot of us have been working really hard on this play, and if you don't take it seriously, I'm going to be really pissed off."
Goten forced his face into one of his most winning smiles. "Who said I wasn't taking it seriously?"
"You never take anything seriously. It's kind of why you're in this situation." She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.
"All I need to do is look pretty and read a few lines. How hard can it be?"
"Is that so?" Her gaze narrowed, and she tucked a strand of teal behind her ear. "Well, good luck I guess."
"I doubt I'll need it. I'm sure it'll be a breeze."
"Uh-huh, we'll see." And with that, she turned on her heel and set off toward Capsule Corp.
Bulla Briefs was furious.
What the hell is he doing? She wanted to smack him. For all his smug words, it sure didn't seem like he was invested in taking his role seriously.
Goten slouched lackadaisically across from her in the circle of chairs they'd set up to run lines in the auditorium. His script rolled up in one hand, resting across his abdomen while he scrolled through his phone with the other.
Perhaps he hadn't heard her. Though she doubted it, half-Saiyan ears were quite sensitive.
She cleared her throat, loudly, and recited her lines once again, "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."
Bulla looked expectantly at Goten, her brows drawing together in a scowl. That was his line. He glanced up, blinked at the staring faces of their classmates and went back to leisurely swiping at the screen, unbothered by the tense silence that hung in the air.
"Goten, that's your line, 'Have not saidts lips, and holy palmers too?'." Mrs. Encore said gently. "Have you… not been going over the material at home?"
"I'm sorry, I guess I… forgot." He continued scrolling, refusing to meet the red-haired woman's gaze.
"You 'forgot'?" The heiress scoffed, "If you won't put in any actual effort, then let someone else take the part."
"Bulla," Mrs. Encore censured gently, raising a hand to silence the irritated blunette before glancing down at her watch, "Goten, why don't you go ahead and read the line?"
Goten sighed but made no move to do as he was instructed.
"Goten, sweetie, if you won't read the line then you'll have to go to the Principal's office."
Goten shrugged and pocketed his phone, wordlessly rising from his chair. He slung his orange letterman over his shoulder and had the nerve to wink at her before he strolled out the double doors.
Goten spent the rest of the hour in the lobby outside Principal Staples' office, until his receptionist came out, motioning him inside before seating herself at her desk.
Here we go, Goten thought with a sigh, heaving himself out of his chair.
Principal Staples was less than thrilled when he looked up and saw Goten standing in his office.
"Back so soon?" He propped his elbows on the desk, lacing his fingers together, "On your first day in Drama Club, a boy breaks his leg, which I understand was an accident, and that's fine. Accidents happen. Now, I'm hearing that you're blatantly refusing to apply yourself. I'm less forgiving of that."
Goten's gaze dropped to his shoelaces, running a hand over the back of his neck in frustration.
"Mr. Son, I've been teaching longer than you've been alive. I know exactly what you're thinking. You think I'll tire of this game, throw in the towel and simply put you back on the team, that will not happen." He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "You can either participate in drama club and work toward earning back the privilege to play, or you can sit in this office, and you can forget about baseball."
Principal Staples nodded toward the door, turning back to his computer. Goten turned to leave, when the old man spoke again. "Oh."
Goten paused, his hand on the door, but he didn't look back. "I might also add, extending this punishment into your senior year is a very real possibility, so just think about that. You may go."
Goten considered those parting words as he walked away from the campus grounds. The Sons weren't rich by any means. If he couldn't play sports, that would seriously hamper his ability to get into a good school.
He paused on the sidewalk, thinking, and instead of taking his usual left, the way home, he turned right, and started walking.
Goten had barely raised his hand to knock, when the front door of the Briefs residence flew open and the hard face of the Saiyan Prince greeted him. "What do you want, Brat? You and Trunks aren't to see one another until your punishment is complete."
"I know, I'm not here to see Trunks. I actually wanted to see Bulla."
Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"I need her help with some school stuff."
The Saiyan prince seemed to consider his words. After a moment he stepped aside, motioning silently for Goten to follow him up the stairs and down the hall to the youngest Briefs room.
He knocked, and when a muffled, "yeah!?" responded the Prince opened the door.
Goten hadn't been in Bulla's room since they were kids, it was a bit cluttered, various posters of pop-stars decorating the walls, there was a pile of laundry in the corner, the top of her nightstand littered with bottles of nail polish in every shade imaginable along with a stack of what, judging by the lovey-dovey couples on the covers, looked like romance novels. Not at all like his room, that was always immaculate, or his Mother would lose her temper and chase him down with a frying pan that he was already far too familiar with.
Bulla was lying on her stomach on the plush red comforter on her bed. She peered up at them over the screen of her laptop, her hair pulled into a messy bun, a pair of pink headphones adorned with cat-ears on her head. "What do youwant?"
"I wanted to talk if you're not busy."
"Whatever." The blunette rolled her eyes before turning over, moving into a sitting position and pulling her headphones down to rest on her neck.
When Goten moved to cross over the threshold, Vegeta put a hand out, bracing it against the door-jam.
"This door stays open." His tone brooked no argument.
Goten blinked, and then said. "Yes, sir."
The prince nodded curtly before disappearing down the hall.
"Well?"
"I wanted to apologize for earlier, and I wanted to ask you… for your help."
"My help?"
"I need help with my lines."
"Sorry, I can't. I have to walk my unicorn."
"Bulla, please? I'll do anything. It has to be you." He sighed, collapsing back on the bed rubbing his hands over his face.
"No."
"No?"
"You heard me. No. N-O. No."
"Why?"
"Because it's all a big joke to you, you don't care about the play, you're just passing time until you can get back to playing baseball and I won't waste my time when you aren't going to take it seriously."
"Bulla, come on-"
"There's the door." She gestured with a freshly manicured finger before promptly throwing on her headphones and turning back to her laptop.
He was doomed.
Bulla didn't speak to Goten the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that. Before he knew it, it was Friday.
Unable to bring himself to face his classmates in Drama Club, he spent the last hour of school every day in the Principal's office.
That weekend, the Baseball team lost their first game. And he'd been all too aware of the scowls that burned into him and his lavender haired best friend as they'd approached their usual lunch table Monday and they'd ultimately opted to sit elsewhere.
He'd stared at the script until his head ached. He hadn't been able to make heads or tails of most of it, and what little he understood was so boring it nearly put him to sleep.
Fuck.
The only other person he could think to go to was Trunks, but they weren't allowed to spend any time together outside of school as part of their punishment, and he was supposed to be busy in debate, anyway.
He needed to convince Bulla to help him somehow.
"Your brother is a fucking asshole."
"Quelle surprise." Bulla scoffed, cradling her phone to her cheek as she flopped back onto her bed, unintentionally jostling her cat Scratch, much to his chagrin. She gave him a little stroke of apology. "In other news, water is wet."
"He's barely tolerable in small doses, but I cannot deal with him every day after school. Out of every extra-curricular they could have stuck him with, why did they have to pick debate?!"
A tapping noise sounded at her window.
"Why you? I'm the one that has to live with him."
"And when he's not making a complete shit-show of things, he's flirting with..."
Tap.
What is that?
Tap.
What the hell is that noise?
Tap.
Bulla's eyes snapped up just in time to witness a small pebble bounce off of the sliding glass door to her balcony.
"BUT SOFT! WHAT LIGHT THROUGH YONDER WINDOW BEEKS?!" a voice bellowed from outside accompanied by a familiar ki signature.
Oh sweet Kami, what the hell does he think he's doing?
"Marron, I'll have to call you back. Apparently there's an idiot in my backyard."
Bulla flung open the door, and sure enough, down below was Goten, in his Orange Star High letterman jacket, with a determined look on his face and a very crinkled script clutched in his hands.
"IT IS THE EAST, AND JULIE IS THE SUN. ARISE, FAIR SUN… AND KILL THE er- ENVI-OSE MOON-"
"What the fuck are you doing?! Have you completely lost your mind?!"
"I'm practicing my lines." He tapped the script in demonstration before clearing his throat. "THE ENVI-OSE MOON WHO IS ALREADY SICK ANDALES WITH GRIEF-"
"Why is Kakarot's Brat yelling at our house?"
Bulla whirled around to see the Saiyan Prince standing in the center of her room, arms crossed, an unblinking, highly vexed expression on his face.
"Because he's a moron." Bulla sighed.
"THAT THOUGH, HER MAD, IS- Ugh! HER MAID ART FAR MORE FAIRER THAN SHE-"
"Make him stop, or I will." Without another word, the elder Saiyan strode from the room.
"BE NOT HER MAID SINCE SHE IS ENVI-OSE. HER VESICAL-ve-si-cal? Fuck, that's not right…Ahem. HER VESTAL LIVER IS BUT SICK AND GREEN-"
Cursing to herself, she climbed over the railing, floating down to her fellow halfling.
"Okay, okay stop!" She took the crumpled script from his hands, hiding it behind her back. "You need psychological help, you know that? You're lucky my dad isn't out here murdering you right now."
He grinned sheepishly. "Well, it got your attention, didn't it?"
"Ugh!" She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. "What do you want?"
"I really, really need your help to memorize my lines, Bulla." He begged.
"Really? You haven't even been coming to Drama Club, instead you've been sitting on your ass in the Principal's office."
"I was hoping you could help me outside of class… one on one, just you and me."
"Why? You play every sport under the sun in front of hundreds of people all the time and you eat up every bit of that attention, so it's not like you're shy!" She crossed her arms and scowled at him.
He was silent for a long moment. For a moment she thought he might say something else, but he stopped himself.
His brow pinched, and his gaze dropped to the grass between them, before he shook his head and gently took the script from her hands. "Nevermind."
The next thing she knew, he'd shot off into the sky.
Bulla flicked through her text messages absently as she stepped out the doors of Orange Star High.
Another week had come and gone and Goten was still sitting in the Principal's office every day. Principal Staples had forbidden Mrs. Encore from recasting the role of 'Romeo'. He seemed to be of the opinion that it was only a matter of time before Goten complied with the terms of his punishment.
He'd asked for her help twice now, but when she asked him why he didn't simply come to class, he refused to answer her. It made little sense.
She'd been so looking forward to playing Juliette and she'd worked so hard. But that wouldn't matter if her co-star didn't also give it his all. The whole thing would be a flop.
"Bulla!" a voice called out.
Bulla looked over to see Tye Clipp grinning at her from his shiny, brand-new air car, that he'd bragged about to anyone who would listen throughout their last hour of school. "Do you need a ride?!"
She groaned inwardly. He'd dated nearly all of her friends except for Marron, and now it seemed he'd set his sights on her as his latest conquest.
And Bulla was having none of that. "No thanks, I don't live far."
"Are you sure? It looks like it's going to rain, maybe on the way you and I can stop and get something to eat-"
"No, thanks." Capsule corp was just a few blocks away, which is why she almost never drove.
"Come on Bulla, don't be like that…" The navy haired boy's shoulders tensed and his eyebrows drew together in a look of restrained irritation.
"I said no thanks."
"Alright, have it your way," he shrugged before rolling up his window and exiting the parking lot.
Lightning cracked overhead and the next thing she knew, fat raindrops were falling from the sky. As luck would have it, she'd brought neither a jacket nor an umbrella.
Maybe she could wait inside the building just until the rain stopped.
She looked back over her shoulder just in time to see the custodian locking the double doors to the building. Great.
She considered flying home for the briefest of moments. But it was peak traffic time. What if someone saw her? Not worth it.
She felt a familiar prickle of ki, and the raindrops pelting her head ceased. She looked up and there was Goten, wearing a warm smile, his letterman jacket held over their heads to shelter them from the rain. "Gotta love this weather, right?"
"What are you still doing here?"
"Staples got tired of watching me sit on my ass and made me clean the front office." A brief, fleeting frown crossed his face, but he shook it off. "Mind if I walk you home?"
"Oh, that's really not necessary-"
"Here, take my jacket. It might not keep you totally dry, but it'll help a little." He didn't wait for her to finish her response before draping it over her.
"Thanks," and a strange, unfamiliar warmth crept over her cheeks.
They said nothing for most of the walk to Capsule Corp, only the soft pitter patter of rain and the occasional clap of thunder filling the silence, until Goten finally broke it. "I know I've been kind of a jackass, and I'm sorry. This Shakespeare stuff… it's… a lot harder than I thought it would be."
"So there's more to it than just 'looking pretty and saying a few lines' after all?" She couldn't help the small smirk that curved her lips.
He sighed and let out a little laugh. "I'm sorry. That was a stupid thing for me to say."
"You know, maybe if you actually came to class, it wouldn't be so hard."
"I can't."
She rolled her eyes. "You can, you just won't."
"No, Bulla, I really can't."
"What do you mean?"
He sighed, and an almost pained expression crossed his face. "Do you promise not to laugh or tell anyone?"
She gave him a puzzled look, but his expression was nothing but serious. "Okay… I promise."
"Sometimes, when I'm reading… some letters get kind of… flipped around… or run together. It can make reading out loud… hard. If I fuck this up, I won't be able to play baseball anymore, and everyone will be disappointed in me. My team, all my friends… My mom…" He stuffed his hands in his pockets, shivering in the rain and his gaze lowered to the ground.
Bulla's expression softened. She'd never seen him look so vulnerable before. Goten always carried himself with such confidence. It was strange to see him looking so... sad, even more-so given that he was getting soaked from head to toe in the rain.
After what he'd just revealed to her, though, it made perfect sense he didn't want to run lines in a room full of people, that he'd be more comfortable practicing with her one on one.
"If I help you, you promise to take it seriously?"
"Cross my heart."
"Okay, well then, we can run lines tonight after we do our homework."
Artwork commissioned by Shironek0 on Twitter!
