The School Play | Kyle X Reader

-FOUR DAYS REMAIN-

~Your Point-of-View~

The school day just got over, so I rush off to rehearsal for the play.

I need to talk to Kyle after his odd behavior yesterday. Not only had he run away from me after rehearsal, he hadn't spoken to me all day, nor had he texted me back any of the many times that I had texted him last night. He always texts me back. Something is definitely wrong.

I finally get to the stage and look around for Kyle, but can't find him. I figure that I'll go to my dressing room and run through my lines once more before rehearsal starts.

I am nearly through them when I hear a knock at the door. It breaks my concentration enough to make me realize how hungry I am. I decide that I'll head to the little snack shop near the entrance of the school after I see who knocked. When I open the door, I am greeted by a box of chocolates. My stomach rumbles. I bend down and pick them up, then notice a note taped on the box.

"Good Luck In The Play!" it says in scrawling red ink. There are also small hearts doodled all over it. I surmise that anything with hearts on it can't be that bad. I open the box and pop one of the chocolates in my mouth. It was okay; not good, but not bad. Typical store bought chocolates. I was so hungry that I soon downed the whole box.

I throw the box away, as well as the note attached to it, and lick my fingers contentedly. I look up at the clock. 4:01, it reads. Oh no, rehearsal started at 4 o'clock! I'm already a minute late! I bolt out to the stage.

"[y/n] [l/n]! Has anyone seen [y/n] [l/n], m'kay?!" Mr. Mackey calls out.

"I am here!" I shout, nearly falling flat on my face as I come to a stop.

"It's about time, m'kay," he says, shooting me a spiteful look, "Is everyone ready?"

I nod, my chest heaving slightly from my sprint up to the stage. I look over and Kyle nods as well. He looks at me, and we make eye contact for the first time since yesterday. His eyes show none of the friendly warmth that I am used to seeing. In fact, they show no emotion whatsoever. Stan steps out from behind the curtain and signals us to start in five. Four. Three. Two. One. Now.

It starts with the expositions read by the narrator, and I begin to feel queasy. I don't know what's wrong. I've done this hundreds of time and never been nervous about it. In fact, I'm not nervous now. It's something else.

My first line is coming up, so I have no time to think about it. I push it to the back of my mind and begin.

-About An Hour Later-

~Kyle's Point-of-View~

We are nearing the final scene of the play. No one has messed up yet, and we seem to be in good shape. I'm not so sure about [y/n], though. She's not acting normal. I can't keep thinking about it though. I've got to focus on my lines.

-A Few Minutes Later-

Here it is. The final scene. The moment that I get to know whether [y/n] really hates me or not.

I lean in and she does too. I look deep into her [e/c] eyes, then I notice that she looks a bit green in the face. I am about to ask if she's ok, when she bolts away, leaving me leaning to the place she had been, ready for a kiss that was never coming.

I straighten back up, then heave a sigh as my shoulders slump and I look down at my feet.

Stan pops out from backstage and asks, "Dude, what the hell just happened?!"

"I have no idea," I say, not even bothering to look up.

He walks up to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Go find her," he says, "She's probably just as stressed out and confused as you." He smiles at me. Stan is the only other person that I've told about my crush on [y/n], as well as how I think that she hates me. It seems that he not only knows about the situation, but understands how I feel as well.