[ i'm sorry for grammatical mistakes or typos. English isn't my first language so, yeah ;--;. And, this is the first time I tried to write something, so I think it's sloppy idk. ]
Note:
- /present/
- flashback
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/The day just started and I am actually thinking of you, again. You've always come to my mind everytime I wake up, everytime I waste time staring onto anything.
You've always been in my mind. I was always reminiscing. About you.
About us./
You were practicing your lines from various scripts you've read, and as people pass in front of you, you would recite a random line from a random script.
I wasn't going to pay attention since you've always done that, but what caught my attention was that, you spoke wrong phrases of the line you were reciting which I assumed was for me as I was exactly in front of you.
I stopped on my tracks, lifted my eyes from the book I was reading, and turned to look at you. You were looking at me, too. That was why you missed a few people passing by.
I told you that you got a word wrong from that line. It was a line from a play both of us happened to star in. I didn't even know how I remember those lines. I was not really into acting, but everyone was supposed to audition for it. I got in. Of course, you got casted, too. Everyone expected that, anyway.
You loved acting. You practiced every free time you had, eventually influencing the whole class that they memorized the lines they heard from you. In the end, by the time you'll perform, everyone in the class can speak along your lines as if it was a song they listened for a hundred times.
You were surprised by what I said, and you immediately opened up your bag containing various printed scripts. You rummaged your bag to find the script of that play.
I stared at you for a while, but it took you a lot of time to find it since you carried a lot of scripts. Like A LOT. So, I just continued with my business and left the scene. I was sure you'd find it, anyway.
/I looked at the clock placed on a table on the left side of my bed. It was 8:30am. My eyes went to the bookshelf right next to the table. A thick bind of white pages was standing out among the row of books. It was your compilation of your favorite lines from different scripts.
Should I take a look? Again, that is. I've always looked at it every morning. It became a habit already. I just can't seem to stop reading those lines over and over again./
But you didn't.
The next day you were practicing again with the same routine. Every person who passed in front of you, one line. In case it was a group of students, you counted it as one and just recited one line. Or in some cases, you just recited a few lines until there was no one passing by.
How did I know? I don't know, too. Was I unconsciously paying attention to you? But, I honestly think everyone knew what your routine was. You've practically done it almost everyday. Who won't notice what you've been doing?
As usual, I had a book to read as I was passing by. I wondered if you figured out the right phrases for that line but, I did not really want to bother asking you.
You recited the same line, anyway. With a few phrases wrong, again. Seems like you're just guessing what words to use?
As I said earlier, I don't really want to bother so I just pretended I didn't hear it. We were not even close. Have we even have a proper conversation while rehearsing the lines together? Have we even talked after that play?
