SOUTH OF THE BORDER ⇉ BECK OLIVER

02 | BATTLE LINES DRAWN

"How about you make notes on your script?" she retorted, her uneasiness evident in the inflections of her diluted Mexican accent. Her dainty, ring-clad fingers began to fumble with the already crumpled corners of the script, mindlessly folding them over and flicking through the pages as a means of distracting herself from the awkwardness radiating from the tech-savvy boy.

"I prefer to memorise things using interpretive dance," the sandy-haired oddball responded in the same peppy tone as before, utterly blind towards the discomfort he was causing, "want me to demonstrate?"

"Absolutely not," she grimaced, her sun-kissed, Hispanic features contorting into an expression of disgust. Eden had, once again, found herself entangling her fingers in her silky, chestnut tresses. She hastily twirled her freshly-trimmed locks around her index finger clockwise, then anti-clockwise, then clockwise again.

"Now Eden, don't be such a Sour Sally, Sinjin's right. You should be taking notes on your script. Everything must be perfect, and that includes the lighting," Sikowitz interjected - his voice stern and authoritative as he tenderly placed his coconut down on the seat beside him, "I remember my first musical as lighting assistant number three, I forgot to turn up the lights when Mabel Carrington was performing the closing number of Hairspray. She tripped over one of the props, broke both her arms and fractured a toe. She was too embarrassed to act again."

"Okay, I get it. Spotlights on Tori," a frustrated and defeated exhale escaped her full, heart-shaped lips as she rolled her umber eyes in a sanctimonious display of animosity. "All the attention on fucking Tori," Eden's sour tongue muttered under her breath in an almost inaudible tone, as she waded through the eclectic range of clutter in her bag for a working pen.

—

The melodious composition of the Hollywood Arts bell sounding throughout the small auditorium was music to Eden's ears, literally. It was a much anticipated relief after what was a tediously torturous morning spent watching the person whom she passionately despised sing off key and forget her lines just a little too often. The doe-eyed Latina had never been one to wish time away - however, on this occasion, she was more than happy for the school day to be over and done with. In fact, she was more than happy for the entire production to be over and done with.

As Eden meandered through the vibrant hallways, there was just one thing on her mind - Festus' chicken tostadas. For as long as she could remember, chicken tostadas had been one of her favourite dishes; it was her comfort food. There was nothing that her mother's famous chicken and chorizo tostadas couldn't make better - hence the reason they became synonymous with bad news. They had been the chosen dish to break the news that her pet goldfish had joined the fishbowl in the sky, that her beloved purple bike with the tinsel tassels on the handlebars had been stolen and that her flakey - at best - father had fled back to Mexico to avoid federal charges. No matter how upsetting the news was, they always seemed to soften the blow. Eden's hope was that Festus' equivalent would have the same effect, especially after the morning she'd had.

However, before the melodramatic siren could reach the safe haven that was Festus' food truck, she was collared by Beck, "Eden, quick question." The raven-haired boy was seated at one of the courtyard's round lunch tables, with an extra large cup of Jett Brew clinging to the edge of his fingertips. Beside him sat Jade - a scornful and sullen expression etched into her fair features as she awkwardly pushed the remainder of her salad around the tray with her disposable fork.

"Go on," Eden replied with caution; it was evident by the looming, gloomy atmosphere that the troubled couple were amidst one of their notorious arguments. Beck and Jade were infamous amongst the Hollywood Arts students for their intense and persistent bickering; in fact, it was a rare occurrence to see them actually getting along with one another - well, anywhere outside the metallic walls of Beck's caravan that was. The last thing Eden wanted was to be involved in one of their turbulent altercations, because nothing good ever came from embroiling yourself in the inner workings of Beck and Jade's strained relationship.