Also, disclaimer. I used to be big into theater, mostly because my boyfriend was, but I did set design, stage crew, and lights. So this is very much from my experiences.
First, his brother got roped into helping with the orchestra. And by helped, he was supposed to play the violin. He ended up being the conductor of the whole damn thing.
Then Kim, (of course it was Kim), remembered that Wes had a little brother and that he was a stage-manager-tech-dude-something-rather "would he be able to help with the lights!?"
So there go his weekends. And his nights.
It isn't even a professional production, it's some kinda exclusive "we're better than you and we payed a fee to be part of this troupe even though we still had to audition to get in" community theater thing. All Soul knows is he will not be invited out for onion rings and endless baskets of tortilla chips with the cast once the whole thing is over. Not that he would want to go anyway. Theater people are their own brand of crazy, he prefers musicians. They're less dramatic.
The play is some kind of weird drama, romance, love triangle (that's semi-progressive. It's three chicks in the love triangle), and there's some kinda big bad (who gets to wear a kick ass wig), and they keep talking about flying rigs and Soul is soooo glad he's only working lights for this thing.
Wes somehow manages to whip the musicians into shape and still work fewer hours than Soul (he isn't the fucking handyman god damn it!).
But then he meets the set designer.
Big green eyes, covered in paint, blond hair pulled into pig tails while she works, and fucking strong. Soul's watched her carry way more plywood than a tiny chick like her should be able to carry.
Also no, he isn't a creeper. He just happened to be up in the catwalks at the time (don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it).
Rule One of anyone who has ever gone up to the catwalks: don't bring a black light, you don't want to know.
It does take him a little longer than it should to double check that the lights are secure and switch out a couple of the gels, but in his defense she's fucking distracting and really kinda hot…
Not that she'll ever notice him. When he isn't in the catwalks, he's in the light and sound booth and when he isn't in the light and sound booth he's up on top of the fucking light and sound booth because this show wanted a god damn spot light operator and he got fucking voluntold that he would be doing it.
That thing is hot, and up way too high (don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it), and there are cobwebs fucking everywhere.
Spotlight. Sucks.
So he watches (getting harder and harder to even convince himself he isn't a creep), Wes teases (Soul has a cruuuush! Shut the fuuuuck uppp!), and the show goes on.
Hell Week.
Yay.
Not really. Soul has a god damn day job, but does that matter to Kim? No. He isn't even getting paid for this. Just working his ass off cause…he doesn't really know why.
It's two days before the show starts, Soul is climbing up the ladder to the fucking top of the fucking light and fucking sound fucking booth (don't think about it DON'T FUCKING THINK ABOUT IT DO FUCKING NOT FUCKING THINK FUCKING ABOUT FUCKING IT), but there's already someone up there.
"…Can I help you?" He asks, still holding onto the ladder with a white knuckle death grip. It's all shadowy up here (irony? cause lights? Maybe, he never uses irony properly), and those damn spiders keep making more cobwebs no matter how many times he knocks them down.
The person…the chick….turns around, a little surprised to have been caught, and offers him a sheepish grin. "Oh sorry, I just wanted to see the set from a different vantage point."
Oh god it's her.
And there's no possible way for him to be cool cause aaaaah up high.
"Ah. High. Hi!" God he's fucking hopeless. "It's cool," not that he's cool, "I've got like ten minutes before spot light cue, I can come back."
"No, no! It's fine, here. I can scoot over!" She moves closer to the edge and pats the spot next to her. The railings are kind of just glorified two by fours nailed to each other and Soul is constantly questioning the structural safety of them.
But those big green eyes are almost glowing, the soft yellow gels pointed at the stage give the air a soft haze all the way up here and catches her hair now that it's loose and down around her shoulders; she looks beautiful.
He's gotta be possessed. Climbing up there willingly and without a second thought. But he does, and the space is so small that they sit side by side with their thighs pressed against each other.
"I'm Maka, I don't think we ever met." She twists and holds out her hand for him to shake.
"Soul. It's a pleasure." They shake hands and he hope his palm isn't too sweaty.
"The lights look amazing, do you do this professionally? You've got a great eye for shadows, I never even got the chance to tell you how much I love what you did with the tower scene! That was exactly what I wanted and had imaged and then I came in the next day and it was perfect!" Maka lights up (fucking puns) and gestures wildly at the stage. He's so glad it's fairly dark up here because he's bright red.
"Ah, thanks. I actually do sound over at the old music hall, but when our light guy quit I kinda figured it out. The set looks great," he offers lamely.
But she smiles at him and starts to explain her vision for it, the budget, what Kim actually wanted, and how she'd never really designed a set before. She was voluntold just like he was.
It's fun. For the first time since he arrived to help out, he has fun. The dress rehearsal starts but Maka doesn't leave. She keeps him company and they talk quietly in between the spot light cues. And when it's over and the cast (not the crew) goes out for onion rings and endless baskets of tortilla chips, well…he kinda might ask her out for burgers.
To which she enthusiastically says yes.
Because as much as Soul has been watching her? She has been watching him. The handsome young man who would snark with his brother, worked hard behind the scenes, and put up with a fair amount o