I Thought I Loved You Yesterday [Roceit High School AU]

Chapter 1 - All's Well That Ends Well

Roman Feu's throat hurt.

Not that he was sick or anything - he was certain of that - he had just been singing for a while. And it was just the littlest, tiniest, slightest  bit out of his range. Which meant his vocal cords were screaming for him to stop and go get some water or something.

He looked up from the script as the final notes of the piano faded, still high on adrenaline from those gorgeous harmonies. He watched as Sanders stood up from the piano, studying the group.

"Okay, that was great. You guys are doing great," he grinned. "Go take a quick break and then we'll run the choreography." Roman laughed as a groan emitted from the crowd along with the sound of pages being turned as they all dispersed, probably to go talk to their friends or get a drink of water. Maybe even run the steps.

He turned to Patton, who was standing beside him and looking down at his feet as he practiced one of the quicker movements. "Those harmonies," he laughed, following his best friend as he skipped down to the front of the stage, jumping off of it semi-gracefully and turning around to face Roman. "They're really something, huh?"

Patton grinned. "You can say that again," he laughed as Roman knelt, descending from the apron only slightly more gracefully than Patton had but moments before.

"I mean, come on," Roman started as the pair walked off through the house, making their way to the back near their bags - and Roman's water bottle. "It just- it makes me so happy, I can't figure out why."

"As long as you're happy, I'm happy."

"Thanks, Pat. Right back atcha." He found his bag, resting on top of the chair, and took a second to glance over the rainbow-coloured buttons hooked onto the front of his backpack. He had been out for a while, and while he didn't think anyone would be so fiendish as to steal his prized pride pins, he still wanted to double-check. He unzipped the bag and dug past the heavy books and sketch-filled notebooks, his fingers closing around the crinkly plastic and he pulled it out, unscrewing the lid and taking a sip, eyeing the low level of water. "Do you think we have time to run to the water fountain?" he muttered, finishing it.

"Probably. Sanders is chill. And you aren't in the first half of it, anyway."

"True." Roman beckoned Patton out the door, wincing at the bright sunlight. He turned the corner, walking quickly down the hall and stopping at the water fountain a few feet away, quickly filling up the clear bottle. He let Patton grab his own drink before the two made their way back into the theater, Roman bringing the water with him and setting it near his script in the wings. He did a few kicks, stretching his legs and arms before Mr. Sanders clapped once, twice, then three more times. He mimicked the pattern, waiting for instructions.

Sanders stood at the end of the stage, leaning against the wood and scrolling on his phone, a tell-tale cord connecting it to the speakers. "Everyone in position?" he shouted, glancing up. "We're doing the scene before Golden Ticket. Joan- remember your que, okay?" Roman noticed as they gave the director a thumbs up out of the corner of his eye. "And do not  do the lifts. Everyone. Alright?" He crossed his arms. "No lifts."

"Alright," the chorus chorused.

Sanders nodded and pointed, phone in hand and ready to start the track. "Great. Hailey, whenever you're ready."

Roman shook out his hands. He wasn't technically in this number, but he had seen it so many times that he knew all the steps. He watched as the dialogue played out and Patton crossed the stage. He really wasn't that different from his own character - well, younger, of course, but he was pretty similar in personality to Grandpa Joe. It worked out well. 

He turned and flipped through his script, scanning the yellow highlights that marked his lights. He went from the line before the bright yellow, mouthed his own line, then double-checked to make sure it was right. It was, of course, he had been off-book a while ago. But the last thing he wanted was to have to yell 'line' in the middle of a scene. Not that there was anything wrong with that, he just held himself to higher standards. He had been doing this for multiple years, after all. He was the token theater kid. It was expected.

He traded the book for water and took another sip - his throat was still burning a bit, after all - watching as his cast-mates formed small triangles and letting out a small puff of laughter as two of them still pretended to complete the lift...despite the fact that there was no one actually being lifted. He set the water back down and leaned against the wall, kicking his foot back and crossing his arms as he watched them shift formation again.

The magic of theater. So simple and elegant.