Disclaimer: As of the first chapter.

Warnings: More Shakespeare and there will be more to come.

Author's Message: I'm awfully sorry about that but I felt that the story simply cannot be without them. Nevertheless, here's the next chapter. Enjoy. :)

Chapter 8: Dress Rehearsals

So the days went with Kai helping Tyson memorize his script, keeping to the sitting room—the safe zone—doing their best to ignore what lie thick and musky in the air. However, it did not take long for the old familiarity to sink back again and they were old friends, Tyson being all cheery and goofy, Kai making snarky remarks when he wasn't simply acknowledging everything with a "Hn".

Sometimes, Kai's friends and Tyson's as well would be there. (Kai never knew who really opened up the invitation but it just became more and more crowded after the time Tala and Bryan invited themselves over to his house to find, much to their genuine surprise, Tyson already there and looking very comfortable all curled up in slacks on Kai's settee.) Those times proved to be an immense riot, with everyone taking up a role and performing those parts with a finesse that would have made Shakespeare and the Lord Chamberlain's men [1] turn in their graves.

During those times, Kai always found himself wishing, without fail, that everyone would just leave.

He felt it and it was maddening to say the least. Both Tyson and himself were referring to the script less and less, and soon there came the dreaded time where the sheets of paper lie in stipulated stacks at their socked feet as they dramatized the parts verbally. There was the dread and the unspoken reluctance for either one to say it's over. After the last scene of their dramatized reading closed for the day, Kai and Tyson found themselves sitting in that comfortable contentment, comfortable no matter how temporary, simply talking of all things inconsequential: Tala's new jumpsuit which he'd bought on ebay for over a hundred dollars, Bryan's faux fur fetish, the death of Spencer's geraniums, Max's new addiction to green tea flavoured ice-cream, how Ray freaked out when the hairdresser cut his fringe half an inch too short during one of his annual hair trims, Kenny's latest hard drive upgrade and it went on.

They were always conjuring, always inventing something new to say, something to keep them sitting just a little longer, until the remembrance of an imminent school day that followed or the buzz of a cell phone told them they had to end it for the day. Tyson always stood a second longer on the steps before turning around and running down the path, bound for home.

It was after one of those "See ya in school, Kai!" goodbyes that Kai found himself standing in the middle of the sitting room staring down at the script he held in his hand, the reminders of Tyson's presence still not cleared from the table, a half-eaten cookie taking forlorn center-stage on a plate.

He didn't know why, but he started reading:

"Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean."

Kai's hand dropped to his side and the script along with it but he continued reciting the Chorus of Act 1 of the play solely from memory.

"From forth the fatal loins of these two foes"

As Kai read the words, they seemed to recede from him and he felt like he was watching the tail end of a train diminishing down a tunnel, where everything was just bright enough for him to see it all happen but not enough for him to find his way. Kai knew…

"A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life;"

…that it all had to stop somewhere. Tyson was going to start on-stage rehearsals seriously very soon and the whole Drama Club was going to be busy with costumes, props and still more rehearsals. Hadn't Tyson said that theatre wasn't like a film where mistakes could be called for a cut by the director or edited out? Everything happened there and then on stage, in front of an audience. Performing such a popular play, everything needed to be perfect.

Kai recited the last line of the chorus and found he did not understand anything.

"So how about that, Tyson?" Julia Fernandez asked. "Still too tight?"

Julia was the sister of Raul, another member of the Drama Club. He was to play as Benvolio and since Julia was extremely good at making costumes and props, the twins being in the performance industry since young and all, she was the club's resident prop mistress, even if she was a girl.

Julia had been excited about making a dress for Tyson, a dress for a woman of class with all the embroidery and everything that went with dresses. It had been funny how Tyson was extremely shy about stripping to his boxer shorts for his measurements to be taken but Julia had been professional about everything and managed to get enough data to declare that Tyson had the built of a severely flat-chested girl. She marveled at how there was not a muscle to be seen, only sinews of a body well-trained though not buffed.

Tyson shook his head.

"Nope, that's fine. At least I can breathe," he said, placing a hand on his stomach. "Still, this is not something that I can wear on my own."

"Wear it for all of your rehearsals from now and get used to speaking with it. You will need that for the stage," Julia advised, giving Tyson an appreciative once-over, winked at him through the mirror and then bustled about getting the dress that Tyson was supposed to be fitted in.

In the meantime, Tyson looked at himself in the mirror and for a moment believed that he really was a female. He had on a petticoat over which Julia had secured a corset in a chokehold around his torso. Pads were slipped under the petticoat to give the illusion of breasts and even Tyson had to admire his newfound bosom, existent but realistically those of a girl still only thirteen.

He twisted and strained to look at his back in the mirror. He had a slight hourglass figure now, a figure forced into being quite literally by the corset. He had to admit that he was utterly sympathetic towards women of the past, considering how this was something they wore everyday.

"Well at least I don't have to wear bustles," he murmured to himself, folding his hands together and dropping them to see just how girlish he could push his looks.

"Those are normally worn by women of nobility," Julia put in, turning back to Tyson with the dress on a hanger, covered by a plastic protector, as well as a box of pins.

"Isn't Juliet noble?" asked Tyson as he stilled himself once more in front of the mirror.

"She is the daughter of a noble family, yes, but she is not exactly a woman of status. Now, Tyson, let's get you into this dress."

As Tyson was fitted into the dress, a pale virginal shroud with baby pearls sewn into the detailing at the chest region and a wide collar, he could not help think of an event he could not seem to quite forget. Perhaps because it hurt a little...maybe that was why it was so significant.

He had met Kai after their respective sports club activities to walk home the way that had become almost ritual. Kai was quiet. He didn't say much most of the time, and if he did speak, it was usually in reply to what Tyson was saying, sounding cruel or indifferent to most though not to the knowing bluenette. That day, Kai was particularly quiet; quiet in the way that indicated a preoccupation of the mind rather than a personalized sullen-ness.

So, Tyson was caught off guard when Kai did speak eventually.

"What about your track team, Tyson?"

"My track…oh," Tyson replied, recovering from his initial surprise. "What about it?"

"Isn't it tough being in two CCAs?" Kai asked, looking straight ahead of him as he walked.

"I'm coping very well actually," Tyson said, lacing his fingers together behind his head. "Right now as a freshman, I will not be able to try out for Regulars in the track team anyway and the training is not as tough. They were in fact nice enough to give me leave from track team activities when the rehearsals start getting intense. The good thing about the track team and the Drama Club is that the Art festivals begin way before the major races. So yeah…"

"You are not too sure if you are going to be a regular in the Drama Club, aren't you?" Kai said, giving his companion a quick sideways glance.

"Yeah. It was all so sudden, you know?"

Kai frowned out at the stretching road before him. "But if everyone likes you in that play, the club will want you as a regular."

Kai thought of hoots and catcalls from the audience, and did not think he liked it at all, but who was he to stop anyone who thought Tyson was hot anyway?

"I don't think Brooklyn would want me to usurp his spot center stage," said Tyson with a laugh.

Kai thought then of how Brooklyn came for Tyson after class practically everyday, on the pretext of bringing news of rehearsals and production meetings. What was the bloody cell phone for, for God's sake? Kai had watched Brooklyn sit beside Tyson during lunch, leaning in too close, staring too fondly as the bluenette, completely unsuspecting, told a joke or laughed. No, from the looks of it, Brooklyn was not vacating center stage. He was hell bent on standing there with a certain someone and he was pushing himself into every scene that had Tyson in it.

"I wouldn't be so sure, Tyson," Kai murmured, shoving his hands a little too violently into his blazer pockets.

"I will have to make a decision some day, I know." Kai heard Tyson sigh and turned to see the bluenette staring up at the peach sky. "But that will be later. Right now, in my freshman year, I want to just experience as much as I could before I start to get all serious. What's the point of doing something, being somewhere and not having fun while you're there?"

Kai thought about it. Perhaps Tyson had a point, perhaps…but he wasn't much of a…fun guy. Sure he dealt with Tala's jokes, sure he gave a snide remark or two, but he wasn't one to do things for the mere fun of it. Tala and Bryan did all sorts of ridiculous things that seemed pointless to him, things he'd seen as a mere audience in the sidelines. Ray seemed to be in an eternal romantic comedy that had no end in sight. On top of that, he was also in an eternal love affair with his hair, and his meditation. All so inane, all such a waste of time to Kai. Spencer spent his days digging in dirt, making things grow. He said he liked it. Kai thought back to his own little African violet back at home, where the soil for that plant was from and looked at Tyson again.

Truth was, it was only with Tyson that Kai did silly things that would mean nothing to anyone else.

As such he took a while to raise that dreaded question:

"When are rehearsals going to start proper, Tyson?"

That broke Tyson out of a silent reverie that was a little uncharacteristic of the bluenette. "Wha—? Oh, you mean rehearsals for the play? It is starting next week. My evenings would be burned and so will my weekends."

"So I guess we don't need to read the script at my house anymore." It was a statement, not a question.

"But I will still want to hang out with you, Kai," Tyson told him, coming up close to stand before Kai causing him to stop walking, before peering up eagerly into raging violet eyes.

"Yeah, we can…maybe dinner or homework or whatever…"

The older boy knew how it must sound to Tyson. It sounded like he didn't want to spend time with Tyson, like he wanted Tyson to just leave. He thought he saw Tyson's face fell.

"Whenever you're free, Kai!" Tyson chirped, perking up again. "I love Portia's chocolates!"

Kai smirked at that. He had to, anything to keep the situation from spiraling down into an abyss of which bottom he could not fathom.

"Food," he said. "Is that all you ever think about?"

Tyson still peered up him. His eyes appeared almost searching.

With a smile, Tyson whirled around and continued walking. "Among other things, Kai. Among other things."

"Tyson? You hear me?"

"Huh? What?" Tyson said, looking all about him.

"The dress," Julia pointed out in the mirror. "What do you think?"

Tyson looked up into the mirror and for a moment, he didn't recognize himself. The dress was lavish and beautiful. Clearly, Julia had invested a lot of effort into the dress. Tyson didn't look like himself. He looked like a girl for one thing. All he needed was to loose his hair and it would be perfect.

Strangely, he liked it. He twisted this way and that, eager to see how the dress looked from all angles. It was amazing how volatile a body could be, how easily gender was moulded from one to another, how fluid everything was.

"I love it!" he cried.

Julia looked pleased at that and replied confidingly, "I spend the greatest amount of time on this dress. I wanted you to look like you are meant to be in it."

Tyson turned to his reflection. In it he saw that he was all at once Tyson and Juliet, her love far, far away and unreachable. Or perhaps it was his love who was far away and beyond reach. It was hard to tell. Everything was turning out to be a proper tragedy after all. Julia had done a very, very good job.

Footnote(s):

[1] Company of actors who acted Shakespeare's plays in the late 1500s.

Next Chapter: Hath Kisses Stolen, Not Given Free