Hate in the Backstage

Chapter 4 -Between scripts and reproaches

After five minutes of walking, the professor said we had to be in pairs. I looked around for a partner, but everyone was already paired up. I felt someone touch my shoulder—it was Alex.

—Shall we be partners? —he asked.
—Look who's talking now —I said sarcastically— didn't you say my presence bothers you?
—Yes, it does. But you have no one else.
—Correction, YOU have no one else.
—Shut up and stop making excuses.

—Eh bien, maintenant j'ai besoin que vous disiez ces dialogues —exclaimed the professor.

He started handing out different roles to each pair; we had to go on stage and read them, each pair expressing different emotions. There was a bowl with many colored slips of paper, each one stating an emotion.

It was our turn to pick one. I was about to go when Alex beat me to it.

—Love... —muttered Alex, displeased.
—Seriously? What luck I have...
—Believe me, I don't want to be with you either.

We went up on stage, script in hand. Every word seemed heavier than what the paper said.

—Oh, Romeo! Why are you Romeo? —I said with a trembling voice.
—Even if I deny my name, my heart is yours —he muttered, stepping closer.

I stumbled over a word, and Alex frowned:
—Genesis! You said that wrong again —he said, dryly.
—It's not that bad —I replied, trying to stay calm.
—Yes, it is. If you don't focus, you'll ruin the scene —he retorted, stepping closer.

—Well, you didn't say it perfectly either —I muttered, crossing my arms.
—I can't believe you're always distracted.
—And I can't believe you're so... demanding.

I looked at him, frustrated, and continued.

—My only love... my only desire —I tried to recover the character's voice, with a lump in my throat.
—I will never deny what I feel, even if the world hates us —

—Do you see what you did there? —he scolded, pointing at the script— You read everything rushed!
—Bah! —I exclaimed, frustrated— You're not the owner of the script.
—No, but it seems like I am if I have to correct you every second —he replied sarcastically.

We exchanged hard looks.
—This is going to go to waste if you keep this up! —he growled.
—Well maybe you could mess up too! —I shot back, letting out the tension.

—Oh, Romeo! My heart belongs to you, even if the world separates us... —I said, dragging the words a bit.
—And still, my love, nothing and no one can change us —he muttered, clearly unwilling.

—Genesis, pay attention! —Alex said through his teeth, pointing to another line— You always skip words.
—And you don't give me a second of patience! —I exclaimed.
—Because I can't believe you don't focus.
—Well, I can't believe you're so... meticulous.

—Every moment away from you...
—Every beat of my heart... cries your name, even if your indifference hurts me.
—Let the world be witness to our love.
—Because not even the deepest hate could separate us.

The professor lightly tapped the edge of the stage:
—Enough for today, mademoiselles et messieurs! —he exclaimed, his shrill tone interrupting our scene.

We looked at each other, half-angry, breathing heavily as we got down from the stage. The script was still in our hands, but the tension between us hadn't disappeared; it was just contained, like a fire waiting to flare up again.

—All of this is your fault —muttered Alex.
—My fault?! You're the one who started it.
—You gave me reasons to do it —he exclaimed, louder than he should have.

—Shhhh —a classmate shushed us.
—You shut up!
—You shut up!

We both shouted, interrupting our classmates' scene.

—Mademoiselle Genesis, votre attitude est insolente!, retirez-vous de ma classe —the professor shouted.
—But...
—Hors de ma classe!

Alex let out a laugh, and the professor shot him a glare.

—Toi aussi, dehors maintenant —the professor yelled, pointing at the door.

We both walked out of the classroom. I was mortified, and he walked elegantly, but his steps sounded loud with anger.

Once we were outside, he said:

—See what you got us into!
—Me? We were both responsible!
—If you weren't so distracted and hadn't done it wrong, I wouldn't have corrected you —he replied, turning away.
—And if you weren't so... so...
—So what? You can't even finish a sentence...
—If you weren't so perfectionist, bossy, critical, rude, stubborn, sarcastic, and cruel, they wouldn't have kicked us out of the classroom.
—Look who's using a lot of adjectives now...

We looked at each other silently, turned around, and walked away.