It's almost the end of the week, and you're finally ready to escape this whirlwind of a week you had. Three invites to Homecoming? How was it possible that you had three Homecoming invites? You couldn't stop simply marveling in agony at that fact. You just wanted to forget all about it and slink into sleep until the end of the school year, but it was hard when HOCO decorations covered about every inch of the school. Blue and white spirit wear had been burned into your retinas.
You're wandering the halls during your off period when you notice something along the wall that doesn't look Homecoming related. You take a closer look at it and realize that it's for the school theatre production. You gasp, remembering that you'd agreed to go to Emmanuel's production today. As if you needed anything more on your plate.
Then again, maybe seeing a theatre production would be the reprieve you needed after all that had happened. And he did say he had a surprise for you. Maybe it would finally brighten the wackadoodle week you had.
The next day, you bring an assortment of formal clothes, since Emmanuel did encourage you to dress nice, and plan to change afterschool.
During Yearbook, you're finally getting into fully editing everything. You'll still have to ask JFK to proofread it all afterwards, though. But next week was Homecoming, and you'd made it all on time. You were concerned for Homecoming for more reasons than the interviews, but you could take care of that later.
At the end of the day, you change in the restroom into your outfit. As you leave, Lincoln sidles up to you in a bright smile, and he also happens to be wearing a tan trench coat.
You raise an eyebrow at him. "Change of style?"
He shrugs. "I dunno. I'm trying to adapt to new trends. Maybe this isn't me." He snaps his fingers, and white dress appears on his frame. He scowls. "And what is this?"
You laugh. "It suits you."
"I suppose it does enhance my masculinity. Ah, speaking of suits." He snaps his fingers again and is now wearing a white suit. He groans. "Why? Why must they make me wear light colors that don't flatter my complexion? Maybe this is a clue. Maybe this is hope I might get to heaven."
"Just put something on, Lincoln."
"Alright, alright." He changes into a Supreme shirt, ripped jeans, and a black puffer jacket. He grins. "Perfect."
"...Okay."
"But anyway, I imagine you had a miserable afternoon without me yesterday?"
You avoid his gaze. "Uh, something like that."
"Pray tell, what did you do to tide yourself over?"
You mutter some unintelligible words, and Lincoln smirks at you. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."
You sigh. "Basically, I met up with Bernie to do the interview, we had to run from security, and he... asked me out to Homecoming."
He chuckles. "How quaint! I still can't comprehend how anyone would settle for such a mediocre human being. When I found my bitch, I knew she was the one from the very beginning! It won't be that difficult to decide. It's very similar to the girl boss to Raytheon pipeline."
"Okay..." You're just going to ignore that, because you have a theatre production to view. You continue down the halls as others make their way to the theatre.
Most of the bottom row seats are full, so you climb the stairs into the top viewing area. Lincoln sits next to you, despondency in his eyes.
"What's wrong?" you ask.
"Well... you know. Being up here feels strange. It was my last living moment."
"I'm sorry. Do you want to sit somewhere else?"
He shakes his head. "No, no, I must confront this. It's essential to my character development in this story."
You furrow your brow. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing, just enjoy the show."
You turn away from him, once again questioning why you still bother conversing with him, when the lights dim. Music began to play, and you found your eyes drawn to the broad set. A monologue commenced, and then a musical number, and you were entranced.
You watched and waited, and then eventually Emmanuel took the stage. He had just the same commanding stage presence he had the day you'd come to interview him. But now it was like he had this new hint of confidence to him.
And then he started singing, and it's like you manage to catch his eye. A small smirk passes through his face before he looks away from you and slips back into character. Your heart pauses in your chest, and you glance around, almost for assurance if anyone else saw that, and you realize the seat next to you is empty.
"Lincoln?" you whisper. You don't receive a response. You suppose he just slipped away, and you'd see him afterwards.
Your drawn back into the production, and it's delightfully entertaining. You can tell they worked really hard on it.
And then the lights turn back on, and you're pulled back out of it. You blink, almost in a daze from all that had happened. Voices and applause flit around you, and you see that Lincoln is still missing. Oh well, he was always missing.
You look out onto the stage, and you're not sure how you'll be able to meet up with Emmanuel if everyone, and you mean everyone, is swarming him.
Disheartened, you start down the stairs, unable to catch a glimpse of him. Maybe he would understand. He did have adoring fans to worry about.
You start out of the theatre and just as you're about to leave the school, you hear a voice call out your name.
"Wait, y/n, wait!"
You swivel around to see Emmanuel chasing after you. You stop in your tracks, and he catches his breath. He's still in his costume.
"Oh, hi," you say.
"Are you leaving?"
"I wasn't planning to, but I just figured you were busy."
"I'm not busy for you. I promised I'd have something for you. I'm not gonna bail."
Your face heats up. "Oh, thanks. But a lot of people are wanting to talk to you, don't they?"
"To hell with that. I did not work hard on that production for them to drag me back in once I finished. I promise, it's fine. You're ready to go?"
"Yeah, I guess."
He gives you a small smile, and the two of you walk out of the school together.
It's dark outside, besides the lights coming from cars and the road. "So," Emmanuel starts, "what did you think?"
"It was amazing. The music, the props, the acting, the story. I really enjoyed it. And it was super funny."
You noticed Emmanuel just stares at you with a grin. You raise an eyebrow. "What?"
"I think this is the part where you tell me I'm right."
You laugh. "Fine, maybe you were right. But I couldn't have known. And it's not my fault you happen to be such a good performer."
"I'm flattered, truly. I'm glad you were able to watch. I managed to spot you out in the audience."
Your heart thrums thinking about it. "Yeah, I thought so."
"I'm just happy I was able to deliver."
You notice that the two of you are getting pretty far from the school. "So... you're not planning to murder me or anything?"
He laughs. "No, I hope that's not disappointing."
"Depends on the day, really."
"I agree. But I promise what I have in store is the opposite of murder."
"So resurrection?"
He laughs, but his expression turns serious. "Well I do like to challenge what it means to be alive."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean we're all given a lifetime with a chance to make experiences. Being alive isn't just the state we're in, but the way we feel. And the way we spend that feeling with other people."
"That's an interesting way to think about it."
"And when we run out of time, there's no way for us to look back and see what we could have done. It's either we seize the day, or we don't."
Abraham Lincoln would beg to differ. You nod. "So we should take more chances in life?"
"Life isn't always a game of chance, just a question of drive. It's not how likely you are to do something, but if you have what it takes to do it."
"You're quite the philosopher."
"Believe me, I try." He pointed towards a gate. "We're almost there."
You cross the quiet street with him and find yourself in a park. "We're going on the swings?"
"I'm afraid what I have is a lot more disappointing than a swing set."
He leads you to a park bench, and your jaw drops open. There a string lights set up around it, a set of roses, two slices of cake, and a radio set up.
"You... you did this all for me?" you question.
"Of course, you deserve nothing less. I just thought it'd be nice." He hands you a slice of cake, and you start eating it, a smile on your face, your heart fluttering.
"This is one of the nicest things anyone's ever done for me."
"Then they surely aren't working hard enough."
"When did you even have time to do this?"
"Oh, I had a little bit of help. And I did have to do some sneaking off. It's only a fraction of what they give at the afterparty, but I've got two more shows to attend anyway. I just wanted it to be worth it for you to come out here.
"This is more than worth it."
A smile spreads across his face. "That means a lot."
You sit next to him, just the two of you beneath the stars. Everything in that moment was perfect, and you didn't want it to end.
Unfortunately, his phone rings. He ignores it, and you furrow your brow. "Shouldn't you answer that?"
"It can't be that important."
"For the sake of me, at least check."
He sighs and take out his phone. He looks at it, and his eyes widened. "Damn." He answers the call. "I only left for a second. No, I know-- And how is that my-- Okay, okay, fine. I'm coming."
He lets out a frustrated breath and looks over at you. "Funny thing about things you enjoy, they also require a degree of responsibility."
You give him a small smile. "It's okay. This was nice."
He rises to his feet, and he regards you calmly. "We could always continue this, you know. Homecoming. I'd like to see you there."
"Oh." Another one? You pressed your lips together to contain the expressions bubbling beneath your surface.
"Only if you decide to." His phone rings again, and he gives you a nod. "Get home safe, I'll see you around."
You watch after him as he disappears, the cake in your mouth feeling like a lead weight.