Drama

Works for me! Rouge doesn't care for theatre, and I'm pretty sure I saw that Elise took music on her page, but I know one person who's in that class, guess it's time to see how sincere that apology was.

As I make my way towards the studio I realise something, I haven't stopped smiling. I know something as small as what this morning actually amounts to isn't exactly life changing, but it felt... Day changing. Like a good sign. I never get good signs. Maybe that's the source of my newfound confidence? Maybe I'm just taking a little bit of good luck for granted? Honestly, I'm just happy today doesn't suck as bad. On the other hand, just more chance for the rug to be pulled out from under me. Best stay on guard. At least a little.

I open one of the double doors into the studio and take a quick scan. Various faces dot the outskirts of the room, but none I recognise, doesn't even look like the teacher's here yet. Our drama teacher is called Gene, no Mr, no last name. He prefers to be referred to as a "Guru" of theatre, in reality he had a short-lived Broadway run that suddenly ended, it's not public knowledge why. Still, he's flashy and smiley and makes the lessons entertaining, more than I can say for my other teachers. Probably the youth aspect.

I deliberate where to sit, almost curious if people will flee if I sit too close. I'll play it safe, had for the corner, my little safe place. Then I hear a voice.

"Hey, sit with me?" Smiles Trish as she passes me. Bit familiar. Wait, why am I complaining? I follow Trish as she puts her bag down and pulls herself up to sit on the edge of the stage. The dead centre. All eyes on her. I miss my corner. I put my bag down and follow suit. It feels wrong up here. Too open. At least I went with trousers. Don't think I'd be able to manage that level of anxiety.

"Jenny got taken out during attendance" Trish whispers, not even trying to disguise the satisfaction in her voice. "I'm guessing Amanda too. Looks like we're at least safe today." We again. It's nicer than just me. Does that make me you're Pierre? "I know it doesn't help, but I meant it, you know? I really am sorry."

"I know." I reply honestly. "Really, I always wondered why you stuck around with those two. Didn't seem like you agreed with how they acted."

"Like I said, they were family, so I thought the good outweighed the bad, and we could work on it. It's like Rouge, you two don't seem that close, but when you needed her she swooped in to fix everything. People are more than one thing, there's always another layer, I guess I wanted to believe there was something beneath the meanness, like they had good intentions." Trish thought aloud. Well now I almost feel bad. Not for Amanda and Jenny, fuck them. But it feels like Trish lost something too. Her hand's on her lap. I could hold her hand, right? As a friend? Friends do that when they're feeling down.

"Good morning, artists!"

Stupid idea.

Gene's gentle voice carried through the room as if the were yelling. He referred to us as his "Little Artists." I think he just can't be bothered to learn our names. Though, given that the number of names I know in this room amounts to me, Trish, and the teacher, maybe I shouldn't judge.

"As much as I know you're dying to throw off the shackles of your reality and burst onto the stage, you know what time it is." Gene continues. Yeah, you'd think Drama would be all acting all the time. Truthfully, it's mostly planning and writing. Sure enough, Gene produces a stack of forms and begins handing them out. "Before you little caterpillars can become beautiful butterflies you need to do the hard part. You need to build your cocoon." Cocoon here meaning play submissions. Essentially we think of a play we want to produce or direct or star in, write up the story structures and themes that fit the criteria of the module, and why this would be the ideal option for that criteria. Busywork. In reality it'll almost certainly be Shakespeare, and parts are decided by Gene. It's just for our end of year portfolio.

Fun. Not that I ever look forward to group work, but I'd take it over admin. Especially with how I feel today. The class disperses and the low hum of chatter picks up as we begin filling out the pages. Knowing that what I write doesn't make a huge difference in the grand scheme means there's not much pressure.

"What are you going for?" Trish asks, scribbling on her own sheet.

"Tempest" I mutter, I'm not used to talking and writing, how do people socialise in class? It's like doing star jumps with one half of your body. "You?"

"Romeo and Juliet" She states confidently.

I can't prevent myself from snorting. "Didn't have you down for a cliche." I chuckle. Was that mean? This multitasking is hard. Trish smiles as well. Thank fuck. Last thing I need is to self-destruct when things are going well.

"Not a fan of romance? Don't tell me you've never once fantasied about being Juliet?" She inquires. Not likely. Romeo, maybe, if the penis is negotiable.

"First off, that play's a tragedy, secondly, romance isn't what I'd call a factor in my life." I reply, gonna leave that intentionally vague. Really don't want to kick that hornet's next right now.

"Fourthly, fuck you?" Trish quotes, forcing a laugh from my lips. Damn, maybe me and Rouge aren't so different. "Should probably tell Geek Chic over there you're not into romance, he hasn't stopped checking you out all morning."

What?

I glance in the direction that Trish gestures. A boy with messy black hair and oversized glasses is filling out his own sheet. Ew. I mean, not ew. I'm sure he's very pleasing to the eye. Not for me. If I go my entire life never knowing what straight girls like in guys then I'm okay with that.

"I don't know who that is." I state dismissively, going back to my work.

"Me either actually, used to leave the social networking to the others, just hung out with who they did. Want me to ask him for you?" Trish ponders.

"No." I respond quickly. Probably too quickly. Was that suspicious? "It's flattering, but he's not my type." I continue, trying to dissuade further investigation to no avail.

"If you don't, I might!" Trish chuckles, apparently not letting this drop. "So what is your type? Jocks? Hipsters? Goths? Are you obsessively in love with a gay guy who'll never want you back?"

"That's a type?" I question instinctively. Why am I engaging? I want a different subject. Also to work. Work doesn't accidentally out me.

"It is for Jenny." Trish sighs, before immediately realising what she's said. "Oh God, please don't tell anyone I told you that, I get you're no fan of her, but it's not my place to spill her secrets like that.

Longing for someone who'll never want you back? Never thought I'd empathise with Jenny, but it's a weird week.

"It's forgotten." I reassure Trish. I guess she had a little dirt on them too, suppose they knew she'd never intentionally spread anything about them though.

The class continues until we turn in our forms and trickle out of the studio. Trish stays close and we make our way out.

"You got any lessons for the rest of the day?" She asks, trundling alongside me. Do we spend the day together now? Is that where we're at?

"I'd have to check, haven't learned my timetable yet." I respond, reaching for my bag.

"Don't bother." Comes a familiar accent, catching up with us. "We have PE and Science together, right? The rest of my day is free, so yours is too!" Elise chirps, almost skipping next to me.

"I mean, that's great, but what's got you in such a good mood?" I ask, suspicious of the grin on Elise's face.

"I've been thinking, I want to check somewhere out, and I want you to come with, both of you!" Explains the dark-haired beauty. The newly-arrived one anyway. Almost stifling laughter. "I want to see where Trish works!"

I turn to see Trish's face drop. But slowly turn into a smile. Why on Earth would she be smiling?

"You really want to see?" Comes the unexpected question from Trish's lips.

"Sure! I always wanted to see inside one of those shops, but my friends if Paris were such prudes!" Elise clarifies. So she's never been in one either? Surely her boyfriend would take her if she really wanted?

"The others never wanted to learn about it." Trish replies regretfully. Now it makes sense. Trish doesn't just work there for the money, she wants to work there, maybe she has a passion for this stuff? "Wait, I thought there was 4 on every street? And yet you've never been? How does that work?"

Elise just nods and rolls her eyes, seems like she's as perplexed as us. "You'll come, right?" She asks me, sweetly.

Bad choice of words Elise. But it's not like I'd ever say no.

"I guess..." I concede. This is a bad idea. I don't want to hear about how much Elise wants to fuck her boyfriend. Or how much Trish is thinking about the next guy in her life. And it's not like I can give a lot of input, I'm a virgin. And gay. Mainly the virgin thing, but I can't exactly empathise with what they enjoy. Can I? Guess I don't know that either.

"It's settled then, is there a bus to town?" Elise asks excitedly.

"Probably." Replies Trish nonchalantly, before pulling a set of keys out of her bag. "Or I could take us there?" We're all old enough to drive, but really, someone being able to afford getting a license, and a car, in our area is probably rich enough to have a chauffer. Yeah. There's kind of a divide. Trish just smiles at my reaction. "What? You thought I didn't get paid for my work?"

Trish leads us out of the school to where her car is parked. It's not exactly luxury, a little 3-door hatchback, but to my eyes it's like a solid-gold carriage. Carrying me off to an unknown world.