Hello, hello, hello again! If you're new here, I'm Akila. I write fanfiction. Hopefully you're here to read the fanfiction.

So let's talk about this one in particular, because I'm very excited to show off what I've been working on for the past months! Twelfth Grade AKA WTF is Going On is a High School AU with the cast of Power of Three and Omen of the Stars, following them over the course of their high school production of Twelfth Night by William Shkspr.

This HS!AU will hopefully be slightly different from others I've seen; no shade, but this is what an actual high school is like. Normal teenagers, classes, relationships, etc. It's hopefully realistic, though I have made it a little fantasized (less soul-crushing than a regular high school, basically). It also takes place in the fictional Toronto high school 'St Erin's' because as many of you know, I'm Canadian and I'm writing what I know.

Everyone has been given new names and backgrounds with certain ties/nods to their canon selves. Just about every ship has been rearranged to suit me because I enjoy crackships. Everyone hates Bumblestripe, and don't expect an explanation for it. Hopefully it shouldn't be too tricky to suss out who's who, but I'll drop a full list below that you can peruse at your leisure. Characters will get nicknamed or fullnamed depending on whose perspective it is. If you're confident in your deduction skills, please hop right in!

Hermelinda 'Mel' Cuerves - Hollyleaf, Leandro 'Lee' Cuerves - Lionblaze, Julio 'Jules' Cuerves - Jayfeather

Moiz Tandon - Mousewhisker, Haiza Tandon - Hazeltail, Baru Tandon - Berrynose

Corinne 'Cory' Feddersen - Cinderheart, Heloise Feddersen - Honeyfern, Penelope Feddersen - Poppyfrost

Bruno Aiken - Bumblestripe, Bellona 'Belle' Aiken - Blossomfall, Blaire Aiken - Briarlight

Daphne Pommier - Dovewing, Ivette 'Ivy' Pommier - Ivypool

Isadora 'Izzie' 'Iz' 'Isa' Hämäläinen - Icecloud, Fredrik 'Freddy' Valterri Hämäläinen - Foxleap

- Haiza -

You know, I've always thought that there's nothing worse than being in love with your best friend.

When the cast list is posted and I see:

VIOLA/CESARIO - HAIZA TANDON

Printed at the very top, and then a couple lines down:

ORSINO - LEANDRO CUERVES

I realize that there is, in fact something worse: playing the love interest to your best friend and secret object of affections in your favourite Shakespearean comedy.

So yeah, September 14th was the day I realized I was turbofucked.

Alright, let me back up a bit.

Hi! I'm Haiza, most of my friends call me Haze, and this is the prologue to how I arrived in this state of turbofuckery. If you wanna go back to the very, very beginning, I can tell you all about my idyllic, picket-fence childhood, my English-professor, Indian-Canadian mom, my classic-lit-loving engineer dad, my idiot brothers, and my idiot best friend. Then we can fast-forward to when that idiot best friend grew eight inches over a single summer, learned to flirt, and destroyed any chance I had of a normal heartbeat near him.

But since I don't wanna bore you, let's skip ahead to the auditions.

I showed up after my last class (grade eleven bio, disgusting) with my script in hand and a healthy amount of fear in my soul. I'm not naturally timid, but I'm not a born theatre kid either. The only reason I'm here is because something from my parents stuck in my brain and I've been obsessed with Shakespeare since middle school, so I wasn't gonna let a chance to snag a small role in Twelfth Night pass me by. I know I'm destined for Curio or something, but I'm super excited to be involved even a little bit anyway.

Hopefully onstage.

Look, I'm not above tech crew; I was a stagehand last year for Mamma Mia, but I want to speak the Shakespeare, not just listen to it, and anyhow, I'm scared shitless of the tech head. I'd take Mr. A's kookiness over Mel Cuerves's iron-fisted rule any day. She's going to be even more terrifying now that she's head honcho, in grade twelve.

The aforementioned Mr. A pops his head out of the gym to beckon in the next person lined up; a tall, skinny girl with one of those fall-raven-kanken-whatever bags. As I watch her platinum-blonde ponytail disappear through the door, I can't help thinking Could she be Olivia? That's Izzie Something-or-other, grade 11, so maybe she'll get a big role.

"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaai-za!" a boy trills from the end of the hallway. I cover my face with my script as Leandro lopes toward the line of students, ignoring the tail end and cutting right into the middle to stand by me. "Sup? Have you gone in yet?"

I motion to the long line in front of me, and he surveys them grandly like he didn't notice.

"Oh yeah! Well, we can wait together," he decides.

"What?!" Oh God, please don't tell me he...

"What do you mean, whaaaaat?" he mimics me with a wide grin. "I'm auditioning too! D'you think you're the only one who can appreciate Billy Shakes?"

I elbow him. "I think you're not the sort who usually appreciates Billy Shakes. Why didn't you tell me you signed up?"

He gives me a familiar careless shrug, ruffling his thick, dark hair, and smiles even brighter. "After reading Twelfth Night in grade nine, I mean… it just swept me away. I've had a hit of the drug, and I need more!"

Midsummer's in ten and Merchant of Venice in eleven wasn't enough? "The… classic lit drug?" I repeat doubtfully.

"Exactly!" He punches my shoulder and I scooch backward.

Keep at least five feet away from the overexcited Leandro at all times, and please don't feed him.

"Can you… act…?" I ask.

Leandro gasps, pressing a hand to his chest, then exclaims, "You wound me! I'm a great actor. I picked a monologue and everything."

"Did you memorize it?" I press. He's definitely in a dramatic mood.

He shrugs. "Pretty much. I figure the prose will just sweep me away and I'll do it perfectly!" He waves his hand for effect, and I snatch the paper out of his hand, then scan it. All's Well That Ends Well, delivered by the King.

"You picked a monologue in verse," I point out.

He blinks.

"It's not prose."

He shrugs again. "Well, guess I better not say that in the audition!"

I slap my forehead.

"Oh, lighten up, Haze," he teases. "It'll be fun! Who do you wanna get?"

"Uh, I'd be happy with anything," I say. "As long as I don't have to sing too much."

"You have a good voice!" he protests.

"Not in front of a hundred old white people, I don't."

My comments don't seem to dim Leandro's enthusiasm at all, and he immediately begins prattling on about every character from Twelfth Night and their merits as a role, which is both an impressive display of his memory of the play, and irritatingly charming. I'm glad when I'm called in for my audition, if only to give me a second of respite from his stream of consciousness. Mr. A and Ms. Cary, the band teacher, are sitting at a folding table in the middle of the gym. I walk in, self-conscious of how my sneakers squeak on the waxed floors and pass my monologue to Mr. A. I picked one from Twelfth Night, hopefully not too presumptuously, and when Mr. A gives me the cue, I launch into it.

My voice sounds a little wavery when I start, but once I finish the first sentence, I take a big breath and let the next one out more steadily.

"What means this lady?" I ask them, trying not to make direct eye contact with the teachers to avoid throwing myself off. "Fortune forbid my outside have not charmed her!"

I gesture to myself and Mr. A laughs, probably just to set me at ease. Still, it emboldens me and I go on, my voice growing until I'm almost filling our little bubble of space in the giant gym. In the whole of it, I think I skipped a line and paused when I wasn't supposed to once, but overall… not too bad.

Mr. A claps, his eyes twinkling, and Ms. Cary cracks a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. I don't think her opinion of me ever recovered after I dropped band in grade nine.

"Fantastic, Haiza! Thanks so much for coming in," he says. "We're just gonna get you to sing a quick song and then we'll check our schedules to make sure you've got time for this kind of production! So what song do you have prepared?"

I try not to visibly grimace. "The… national anthem?"

"Okay, great!" Mr. A says, undaunted by my terrible choice. Ms. Cary's half-smile drops away and I take a deep breath.

To preserve my self-esteem, let's just skip past this part. You know how it went anyway; somehow I charmed them, they decided it was a great idea to drop the principal role on me, and even worse, Leandro snagged the leading man's spot.

That's basically the long and short of how an extracurricular I was excited for turned into 'Oh God, my life is over,' real quick. Can't wait for rehearsals.

- Corinne -

I should have learned from chess club, I think.

What I mean is, every time Haze does something, Lee jumps in with her, and then drags me behind him. I guess I owe him for being a good running partner, but at this point, the scales have tipped and he's racking up a debt. Chess club was so boring, and this better not be the same or he owes me big time. There will be bench pressing involved.

The auditions went surprisingly okay, to be fair; I accidentally got really into it, and it ended up being fun. It's kind of a curse, honestly—I'm addicted to trying new things, getting obsessed for a week, and then moving on. I think everyone around me would be really confused if Shakespeare was my newest fixation, and while I don't think I'm going to be rushing off to a library to go read a billion pages of forsooths and verilys... I'm actually feeling optimistic about this Twelfth Night thing.

I got a chance to sing again for the first time in a while, which was fun, and shout some dramatic monologue from one of the vaguely-named Shakespeare plays about some ugly girl and some idiot in love with her. I picked it because it was long, not gonna lie. Go big or go home, right?

Mr. A thought it was good, and Ms. Cary gave me one of those sharp nods after I finished my song. Felt good to succeed at something and not have to powerwash my whole body afterward. I think if I was shouting monologues for an hour I might break a sweat, but as it stands, I leave the gym with dry underarms.

When I finished the audition, I was feeling good and thinking that it might be fun to get a small role. If nothing else, Leandro and I could goof off in rehearsal. But that was not meant to be, unfortunately; I guess all my shouting really blew them away, because when I regretfully abandon my sandwich and gatorade to go find the cast list with Haze and Lee, I find my name way too high up the list to give me any chance of getting out of this with a light workload.

"Olivia?" I read. "What's her deal, again?"

Leandro makes a noise like a squee and Haze and I turn to him with the same look.

"Oh, this is amazing!" he crows. Haze looks faintly sick. "We're getting married!"

He tries to sling an arm around her and Haze ducks out of the way, elbowing him, but without faltering, he claps his hands together and turns to me. "And I'm going to annoy the shit out of you!"

"Like you don't already?" I retort with a grin. "C'mon, who's Olivia?"

"The lady I spend half the play obsessed with," Leandro proclaims. "And then I send Cesario here," he says, poking Haze, "to go romance you, but you fall in love with her."

"Gay? Nice. Also, since when do you know so much about some dusty old play?"

Leandro cackles. "Since I got to use it an excuse to fall in love with my friends!"

I ignore him, turning to look down at Haze. "So, is she like… important?"

She shrugs, edging away from Leandro and retreating into her six-thick scarf pile like a hermit crab. "You could argue that the whole plot revolves around her, but she doesn't have too many lines."

"What about yours?" I smile. Whew. Important without stuff to memorize? My lucky day. "You're listed first."

"Viola's… pretty much the protagonist," Haze admits, looking a bit sick again. "Um… I have no idea why they picked me."

"Because you're fantastic and this is going to be hilarious," Leandro exclaims, his dark eyes dancing. "Oh my gosh, when does rehearsal start? This is going to be amazing."

To distract Leandro and possibly save Haze from throwing up on the cafeteria floor, I scan the list again. "Hey, Lee, didn't Julio audition too?"

"He sure did! I forced him too," he admits proudly. "And look! Malvolio! That's a huge part, he's like the main villain!"

I frown. A huge part for Julio? Leandro's younger brother, blind and acid-tongued, is apparently shouldering a 'huge part' despite being in grade ten. Must've wowed Mr. A. The other grade twelves on the list don't appear to have landed the major roles; I recognize Moiz, Bruno… Oh, Penny got Viola-understudy. Nice. "Huh. Well, me and Julio can hang out while you two lovebirds are making eyes at each other onstage."

"We're hardly—" Haze begins, her brown skin flushing darker, "—I mean, Viola and Orsino only really get together at the end. Besides, Malvolio has that whole… situation with Olivia."

I quirk an eyebrow at Haze. She's acting weird. Wonder what's up.

"I almost forgot about that!" Leandro's eyes round, then he grins. "No spoilers. I'm sure Mr. A will have us all read it together."

He and Haze exchange evil smirks. Well, that's more normal. I roll my eyes. "Alright, keep your secrets. I've got football practice after school, so you two can have some bonding time on the bus ride home."

Olivia, eh? They better not put me in some frilly dress. Maybe I'll be a butch lesbian. I guess I'll just have to find out what 'the Malvolio situation' is before I pass judgement on whether this is gonna rock or suck.

- Blaire -

Julio's braille Twelfth Night nearly breaks the cafeteria table as he drops it in front of me.

"Christ, dude," I comment, wheeling myself back a couple inches to avoid the possible cave-in. "That's a tome."

"And I guess I'm going to be poring over it for the next six months," he grumbles, slipping into his chair and taking a long swig from his water bottle. "Why did I let Lee convince me to do this?"

"Because you're a good actor, a good brother, and are exactly like Malvolio," I list off. "Seriously. A match of no-fun-allowed-old-soul-puritans made in heaven."

He snorts. "Sure. What the hell does 'puritan' even mean?"

"Prude," I tell him brightly. "Get used to being called it, because that's like, half the plot of the play. I remember way too much of grade nine."

He groans. I reach over and pat his arm. He usually doesn't react to unexpected touches from me anymore, but I pull back my hand quickly anyway. "I'm happy with my bit, anyway."

"Fabian?" he says doubtfully.

I shrug. "Well, yeah, and understudying Toby. Understudying? Studying-under? Being the understudy to? In any case, it's about the best us mortals can hope for. Or so I thought; apparently grade tens can get giant roles. Julio Cuerves, breaking the glass ceiling since oh-five."

His lips tug down, and he leans back in his chair, angling his head slightly in the direction of my brother's voice across the cafeteria. "Apparently. I wish you got all of Toby; now we all get to deal with Bruno for longer than... the advised amount."

I cringe. Never let it be said that I'm a pessimist, but I'm also not stupid. I know that my older brother getting a big role means we're all in for hell. Right now, he's directing his milquetoast harassment Daphne's way, which isn't unusual these days. She's too polite to tell him to fuck off, and I know he's already mentally writing his little narrative of 'cool boy, shy girl' for their so-called love story. I look away, getting secondhand embarrassment the longer I watch Daphne's tightening smile.

"How'd your audition go?" I change the subject.

Julio grimaces. "Too well, apparently."

"Oh, c'mon, it might be fun," I prod. "Doesn't Malvolio have that whole yellow-stockings thing with Olivia? 'Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness—'"

"Don't say it." Julio shrivels up like a neglected plant. "S'gonna be so embarrassing."

"Just think about how Cory'll feel," I tease him. "Your hopeless pursuit of her won't be so hard to fake, will it?"

He scowls. "That was like six years ago. And if you wanna talk about hopeless pursuit, isn't Daphne playing Maria? And…"

"Maria and Toby get together, correct." This is what I meant by I remember too much of grade nine. Although being surprised when my asshole brother gets to run off with five and a half feet of adorable French girl isn't really a better option. "Let's hope Bruno starts puking his guts up halfway through the run."

Julio wrinkles his nose.

"That, or I'll break his legs." I lean forward, suddenly feeling a burst of hope. "This could be the chance I was looking for. If I get at least one performance as Toby, I guarantee I'll get Daphne to love me back."

Julio rolls his eyes. "You said that when she forgot her chemistry homework, and yet you remain tragically single."

"Shakespeare's on my side with this one," I inform him, ignoring his pessimism as per usual. "Dude was majorly bi, I did a whole english project on his sonnets. Ooh, speaking of the sonnets, maybe if I compose—"

"Can you put your sapphic thespian fantasies on hold until I've finished my chili?"

I sigh. Julio's not exactly a romantic, and I doubt it'll change, but in the interest of not pissing off my best friend, I relegate my Daphne-daydreams to my brain and begin fiddling with a corkscrew of black hair that escaped my kerchief. Then I let out another, more lovelorn sigh. Julio's eyes flick up to deliver another searing, unseeing look.

"We're listening to Zima Blue," he says, frowning at me when I sigh for a third time.

"Oh, c'mon, you picked the last three days."

"You've been particularly annoying the last three days," he answers.

It's been a bit of a ritual since we were kids, I guess—Julio's loaded, deadbeat dad bought him some now-ancient media player and earbuds for his eighth birthday. When he sat next to me in the 'special' section of the school bus and offered me an earbud, I decided he'd be my best friend. Then we started listening to Animorphs and the rest is history. We share everything, trade anything, including genders assigned at birth (woot, trans buddies). Eventually, the audiobook thing became a bit of a score-settler; if one of us was being annoying, the other would get to pick the book for the bus.

We've hardly touched The Kiss Quotient, although I'm sure Julio won't be inclined to be more patient with me once we get four hours deep in another cheesy romance. What can I say, though? I'm a sucker for a happy ending.

"Well, you just made the worst mistake of your life," I say, good mood returning suddenly. "Now that you've used your one bargaining chip, I'm going to talk about her all day and you can't stop me. Where to start? How about the fact that she's freakin' adorable? She bites her nails so much and I'm like What are you so nervous about? You're gonna ace that math test, you're super smart."

Julio groans and buries his head in his hands.

"She probably owns American Girl Dolls, right? Is that cute or creepy?"

"Creepy," he volunteers, voice muffled by the sleeve of his hoodie.

"I dunno, I think it's adorable. Hey, if you're not gonna finish that chili…?"

- Ivette -

Three taps deep in google, and all I've determined is that he's gay.

My acid-green acrylic makes a satisfying click against my phone screen as I go back a page to sort through the search results again.

"Hmm. A pirate," I muse.

"Dope," Moiz answers, engrossed in his own search. "Apparently Sebastian's some kind of minor noble or something and then he gets in a shipwreck."

"Oh yeah, I remember the shipwreck." I nod, peering at the phone screen. I'm testing out a pair of colour contacts, and after half a day, I can safely say these ones are going in the garbage. "Hm. This one says that Antonio was like a father to Sebastian."

Moiz cocks an eyebrow. "So you're either my pirate dad or my pirate boyfriend."

I shrug and drop my phone on the table. "Seems like it. I'm going for boyfriend; I don't think I can pull off the fatherly angle."

"You just wanna make it gay," he accuses me and I shrug again.

"Guilty as charged."

"Mr. A's the gayest dude I've ever seen, so I'm sure he'll be onboard," Moiz agrees, stuffing another forkful of sabzi into his mouth. "Besides, isn't Twelfth Night already one of the super gay ones?"

I roll my eyes and immediately regret it when these shitty contacts get stuck. I blink them out, irritable, and wipe them onto the table. Stupid things. "It's four hundred years old, how gay can it be?"

He grabs my phone, and I remember that I meant to change my password when he easily taps it in, and then he reads something from the screen aloud. "My desire, more sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth." He hands me back the phone and grins. "Fatherly?"

"Not unless you desire your son," I agree, wrinkling my nose. "So I guess I'm sticking with the boyfriend angle."

Moiz smirks. "How on earth will anyone buy that you're gay?"

He motions to today's clothing choice; a black, spike-studded mini-dress, fishnet tights, and my trusty Docs.

"Would a lesbian have these?" I counter, waving my acrylics.

"A single one might," he says. "Speaking of which, got your eye on anyone, ladykiller?"

Stupid nickname. "Fuck off, E-Boy."

He laughs again, adjusts his beanie, then says, "Hopefully Sebastian doesn't have too many lines. Mr. B's got me stuffing my brain full of advanced functions already. Can't believe you made me audition for this."

"It's the essential gay high school experience. You gotta be either obnoxiously into Shakespeare or a theatre kid, and since you spent two of these years in the closet, we're doubling up." And Daphne wanted to make sure she wasn't the only one of our group doing it, since Izzie's on tech crew again.

Moiz groans. "Don't blame me if I fuck up onstage and embarrass everybody."

"Oh, chin up. You'll just be embarrassing yourself. Let's go save Daphne, I think Bruno's circling again."

Moiz scrambles to seal his thermos and pack away his lunch when I spring to my feet and cross the cafeteria to chase off the preppy twat that keeps bothering my sister. Once I insert myself between them and stare him down with my slightly-bloodshot eyes for a second, he gets the hint and backs off. For today.

"What a tool," I sigh, sliding into a seat next to my twin. Daphne winces. Huh. If she's not making excuses for him, he must've really annoyed her. But before I get a chance to press the point that she should tell him to get lost for good, I notice who's sitting across from me. "Oh, hey, you're new, right?"

Daphne and Izzie are sitting in the usual spot, but with them is a beautiful fat girl with honey-blond hair framing her heart-shaped face. I offer her a quick smile. "I'm Ivette, but everyone calls me I—" I narrowly avoid yelping in pain when Moiz grinds my toes into the floor with his converse. "—vee. Ivy. Fuck, dude." I shoot him a dirty look.

New Girl looks slightly concerned, but gives me a little wave. "I'm Heloise. My sister and I just moved here this year from Amsterdam—um, maybe you know my cousin? Corinne Feddersen?"

She's Dutch! I give her my sunniest smile. "Oh yeah, everyone knows Cory. She keeps winning us trophies."

Moiz gives me a look that says another toe-stomp is coming, so I chill a little. "Nice to meet you. Who's your sister?"

"Penn—er, Penelope," she says, pointing across the cafeteria to another chubby girl whose wavy hair is a darker auburn colour.

"Ooh, fuck," Moiz mutters sympathetically.

"What?" Heloise, blessedly innocent as she is, turns to him, blinking.

Penelope is unfortunately in the clutches of Izzie's brother Freddy and Baru-fucking-Tandon, the only guy at school that could challenge Bruno for 'most annoying.' "Yeah, Izzie, you may need to execute a rescue mission," I remark.

Izzie gives a pained sigh, then stands to go beat her brother away from the other new girl.

"Did you audition for Twelfth Night?" Moiz asks before I get the chance to set up some kind of strategy to win over this cute newbie.

"Oh, no, I'm… more a behind-the-scenes person," she says shyly. "I was in my last school's A/V club. Do you have one here?"

"Yeah, tech crew," I tell her. Not a theatre kid? Strike one against her being into girls, I guess. Does tech crew count? Or does that just mean she's gonna end up hopelessly in love with Mel? Or worse, Bellona…?

"You should talk to Izzie about that, actually, she's ASM," Daphne chimes in.

"ASM?" She blinks.

"Assistant stage manager, and won't let us forget," I answer. "I don't envy her; the tech head scares the crap out of me."

"Didn't you date her?" Daphne asks unhelpfully.

I grit my teeth. "Briefly."

As the unflattering saying goes, Mel turns you gay then Ivy breaks your heart. It would be really, super great if everyone didn't immediately tell the new girl I'm bad news, because I'm not, just… unlucky, I guess. Easily distracted, my brain offers me. Not girlfriend material. Having a very hard time seducing the only girl I've gotten stuck on.

"Bruno's back, seven o'clock," Moiz warns us, but when I look up to send a death glare at him, I see her instead.

Her dark eyes meet mine for a second, then she grabs her brother's arm and disappears into the crowd of students by the caf's cash register.

"Saved by the Belle," Daphne says suddenly, and bursts into laughter.

I squint into the swarm of students, but still can't catch sight of the baggy flannel and ripped jeans that might identify her. Bellona Aiken. Sister of Bruno, Goddess of safety pins, and totally not interested. I can't help a groan.

Moiz pats my head. "S'alright. You'll completely screw it up with her one day."

Thanks for the vote of confidence. I frown at him, but then, remembering the new girl and her tech crew aspirations, my brain begins plotting. Wait a minute. If I'm onstage being tragic and gay, and Belle's backstage with nothing to do but watch… Now there's a reason to put on the performance of a lifetime. I'll make a trite lesbian romcom out of my life yet. Visions of me dip-kissing her in the spotlight during bows float in my mind. William Shakespeare, you old dog, you might just be my saviour.

Well, I very really much hope you're having fun so far. I intend to publish a chapter every day (there are 12 in total and only the last one is unwritten) so don't be a stranger!

~Akila