Roman tossed his phone to Kai as it started vibrating. He didn't have time for this. Where's his eyeliner?! "It's ringing! It's ringing!"
"It's Logic." Kai reported, "You have tons of texts from him."
"Yeah, he's been blowing up my phone all week." Roman muttered as he dug through his make up bag. Kai scooted closer to him as another actor ran past them, screaming about a missing prop. Roman groaned, trying to focus on finding his eyeliner. Kai started reading the messages out loud, which wasn't helpful.
"I look forward to seeing your performance today." He read.
Roman finally found the eyeliner, and turned to look at himself in the mirror. He uncapped the make-up and said, "I can't believe he's coming every night."
"That's what she said." Kai muttered, reading the next message, "I apologise for causing you discomfort."
"I didn't tell him it was Hell Week," Roman said as he traced his eye slowly. "I've been ignoring everyone, it's just show biz."
"That's a weird way to say 'I haven't slept all week'." Kai teased him.
Roman snatched his phone back, barely glancing at the screen. There were too many messages for him to think about right now. He needed to get in the zone.
He turned his phone off, sighing when Logic's name disappeared from the screen. He refocused on his reflection. He was playing a prince in this show, and he was almost finished with his costume. He just needed his sash and crown.
"Has anyone seen my crown?" He asked the changing room. They were typically good with keeping their changing rooms clean and tidy, but last night Disorganized had "helped"putting things away and no one wanted to bring it to Perfectionist's attention yet.
"I got it!" Someone called from the back. Kai hopped off his stool to retrieve it for him. When he returned, Roman grabbed some Bobby pins and sat down.
Kai helped him attach the crown enough to his head so it wouldn't fall off during his dance breaks. Roman looked at his roommate's reflection in the mirror.
"Will you keep Logic away from Remy and Missy?" He asked. "They shouldn't be here until Sunday, but if this guy is really going to be here every night…"
"Say no more." Kai said, letting go of the crown with a small flourish of his hand. "I'll keep him out of your hair. You just focus on your lines."
"You're the best knight a prince could ask for!" Roman said, beaming in with pre-show jitters.
"Curtains in 10 boys!" A stage manager shouted from the door.
Roman turned to Kai, "You should get out of here, before Perfectionist sees you."
"Aye aye Captain!" He saluted him and said, "Break a leg, Princey!"
Roman took a deep breath and ran through the show in his mind. He imagined the characters' world; with a dash of Creativity, he could almost see the midevil village appear before his eyes. He was ready; it's showtime.
Curtains close, stand in a line, curtains open, bow, bow, applause, bow, curtains close again. As soon as Pop Culture let go of his hand, it was like Roman stepped out of a trance.
He held his head in his hands, feeling all the energy drain out of him. There's nothing more thrilling than an opening night performance; but now he was ready to crash into his bed and not get up for another week.
Roman followed Pop and the rest of the cast as they walked out into the hall. It was a tradition for them to talk to any audience members after the show. It gave friends and family a time to take pictures and gush about the show. In the hall, Roman saw that Kai was talking to Harry and Theo; Pop Culture had probably unfused in exhaustion. Theo was resting her head on her arms, using Kai's head as a pillow. Roman glanced away, looking at the crowd that was slowly coming out of the auditorium.
He frowned when he saw a familiar face, but his hair was the wrong color. Roman squinted, standing on his tiptoes to try to see through the crowd. It was impossible, whoever that person was, he's gone. Maybe Roman was just seeing things, but that person looked like Remy, but with a bad bleach job.
God, he was tired. If he was imaging doppelgangers in the distance, he definitely needed to go to sleep.
"Salutations."
Roman jumped, turning to see Logic standing beside him. He had been distracted, and didn't see him approach. He glanced at his friends, who hadn't noticed his delima. "Logic!"
"You never responded to my messages." The Side said.
"Uh-" Roman couldn't look at him; guilt started to build in his stomach. He snuck a glance at Logic's expression. It was hard to read; he wasn't smiling, and he looked away when Roman made eye contact. Awkwardly, Roman mumbled, "I've been busy with the show…"
Logic cleared his throat, then held out a bouquet of roses. He shoved them into Roman's chest, and said, "These are for you."
Roman felt his cheeks heat up as he took the flowers. His mouth was suddenly very dry and he could hear his blood rushing in his ears. He looked from the flowers to Logic and eloquently said, "Uh…"
"I was told it is customary to provide flowers to actors after a performance." Logic explained, his eyebrows twitching down in confusion. "Were my sources incorrect?"
"No, you're right." Roman said, inspecting the roses in his hands. Looking at flowers was way easier than looking at Logic. Shit, he was too gay for this. He smiled at him and said, "Thank you."
"Of course." Logic placed his hands behind his back and watched Roman expectantly.
Roman shuffled his feet and said, "So, uh, did you like the show?"
"I enjoyed watching you." Logic responded, adjusting his glasses, "The show was adequate."
"Thanks…?" Roman glanced at his friends, and saw that they went back into the auditorium to help reset the stage. He was completely alone. Roman wanted to get out of there; the longer he stood next to Logic, the more he remembered of the frat party. He got really drunk and Logic asked about his past. Shit, shit, shit. He took a small step back, "Well, thank you for coming to support the theater department. Um, I have to go-"
"Wait," Logic grabbed his wrist, his hand was warm and it made Roman's skin tingle. Now Roman could see hints of worry in Logic's expression. He said, "I-I would like to discuss last weekend."
"I can't." Roman shook his head, feeling his heart beating faster. He didn't usually get stage fright, but this felt pretty close to it. His lungs were tight; his breaths were quick and shallow. "I-"
"Did I do something wrong?" Logic asked, clearly confused, "Did I fail the trial?"
Roman saw an escape and he took it, summoning all his courage, he said, "Yes. You did."
Logic blinked in surprise, "What?"
"You're supposed to get drunk at parties, and you didn't. So, you failed." Roman backed up, shaking his head, "I won't help you find your Sides."
Logic stepped closer, keeping an equal distance between him. His tone grew harder as he said, "You never informed me that was the requirement."
"That's part of the test." Roman said, clutching the flowers in his hands tightly. The stems dug into his skin, but he didn't mind. It gave him something else to focus on, other than Logic's bewildered expression.
"Then allow me to retake it," Logic said, "If all you require is for me to be intoxicated-"
"No second chances." Roman shook his head, turning and walking away. His steps were quick, but Logic's were quicker.
The other man was by his side, glaring as he spoke, "You're being purposefully unreasonable. What kind of test requires the participant to be inebriated? How does that in any way dictate if I am an applicable match for my Sides?"
"Jesus Christ, you thesaurus. Do you ever talk normally?" Roman grumbled to himself, rubbing his forehead. He could feel a migraine coming on, and after a two hour performance, he just wanted to sleep. Thinking about sleeping only made him think about Sleep, causing his heart to clench painfully. Before Logic could respond, he said, "I'm sorry, but you failed. I don't make the rules."
Logic stared at him for a beat, before almost shouting, "Yes, you do!"
Roman stopped in front of the backstage door. He grabbed the handle and sighed, "Look. You're a nice guy, and I appreciate the flowers, but you need to leave me alone. We're not Sides."
"I don't believe that." Logic argued, "When we were dancing-"
"I'm Established!" Roman interrupted, "I can't fuse with you!"
"You're very short. Statistically, Established individuals are much taller-"
Roman felt his cheeks burn at the mention of his height, he grit his teeth, "Shut up!"
Logic crossed his arms, squinting at him. He said in a quiet, but firm, voice, "If you're Established, then who's Creativity?"
Roman dropped the flowers, grabbed Logic's stupid tie, and yanked him closer. Furious, he hissed, "Don't you dare say that name! You have no idea what you're talking about!"
"I'm just trying to become Established." Logic replied, surprisingly calm for being this close to getting punched. He stared at Roman the entire time, which only infuriated him more. He hated being inspected like a weird science project. "If you are my Side, or if you know my Sides, I won't leave you alone until that happens."
Roman swallowed, feeling the muscles in his arms shake. Moisture was forming in the corner of his eyes, and he needed to get out of there before he had a very un-princely break down. He thought about sending him to Remy and Missy, but just the idea of it made his stomach turn. Despite his best efforts, Roman is attached to the Logical Side. He didn't want to send him away; but being around him was very dangerous. He didn't know what to do.
Slowly, his fingers unfurled from the tie. He smoothed it down, giving Logic's chest a small pat. He could feet Logic's heartbeat, and it's quick pace almost matched his own. He could feel his fingertips start to burn in a pleasurable tingle. He pulled his hand back, stepping away from him.
"If you want to find your Sides, look somewhere else." Roman told him firmly. He grabbed the door handle and said, "I'm off the market."
He opened the door and slipped inside, closing it behind him. He heard Logic's plea, "Roman, wait!"
He didn't wait; instead rushing past the props and curtains, hoping to disappear on stage. As quickly as he could, he ducked into the boy's changing room and took off his prince outfit. He couldn't look at himself in the mirror; it looked too much like Logic. Like Remy. Like an asshole.
With shaking hands, he turned on his phone and glanced at all the messages he missed during the play. Remy had sent him a few; apparently he and Missy were sad about something. He didn't have the emotional ability to respond to him then. He had another six from Logic, each more prying than the last. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to keep this up. He was doing just fine before the walking dictionary crashed into his life.
Sighing, Roman glanced at a beautiful bouquet of white lilies on Singer's table. His own flowers, gorgeous red roses, had been thrown on the floor in the hall. He wished he didn't do that. He wished he could talk to Logic like a normal human. He wished he could fuse like a normal human.
He wished a lot of things.
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