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[indent][i]Clink. Clank. Slam.[/i]

A chorus of metal lockers opening and closing rang out through the halls of Beverly Hills High. The first day of school after winter break was over, and students were already hooting and hollering in their excitement to go home, or out, or wherever they were headed now that classes were through. Marshall stood in front of his own tin cubby. He was one of those people who actually took the time to decorate the inside of his locker. It was… over the top, extra, bright, loud… you know, most of the adjectives that one might use to describe the drama star himself. 

At the center of a sea of sticky foam stars and clippings of Broadway show titles was a large mirror, which had “SMILE :)” written on it with lavender puffy paint. Staring into the looking glass, Marshall’s own advice mocked him, despite the pretty handwriting. He didn’t much feel like smiling, today had sucked, even though he was [i]really[/i] excited to be back at school. Everything was going wrong and not even having french class for last period could save his day. In Mar’s mind, french was the best language, the most romantic of all of the romance languages… but... his romantic dreams seemed pretty dim recently, so french sucked too.

[color=997fdb][i]Stop taking yourself so seriously, Marsh, you’ll get wrinkles.[/i][/color] Blowing a raspberry with his lips, he challenged his own somber reflection by sticking his tongue out at it. Perhaps drama club would help him feel better, he could do some acting and step outside of himself for a little while. That could be refreshing. With that thought powering his steps, Marshall tossed his books and writing utensils in his locker and headed over to the theater.

Ms. May, the young chorus and theater instructor, who also oversaw the drama club, was standing amidst a circle of chairs that were set up on the stage. There was also a table with a few folders and papers strewn about it — Marshall assumed these were scripts and scores, as they were meant to decide on this semester’s school production today. Clearly Ms. May had come prepared with options for them to choose from.

Many of the faces were familiar ones, though there were a few first timers in the midst. Good, fresh talent, Marshall hoped. Both of his previous fellow co-stars, Jacobi and Shauna, were nowhere to be seen. Marsh then remembered that he agreed to fill Jacobi in on what he’d miss, because today was cheer squad tryouts — and that fact answered the question as to what Shauna was up to as well. Marshall rolled his eyes and pulled out his cell phone to text Shauna as he took a seat, perhaps he could spare some sweet freshman’s heart with a message. 

[quote][color=997fdb][b]better get ur lezzy ass here quick or im putting my vote towards Hamlet[/b][/color][/quote]

Damian’s shit day had been, however briefly, saved by Joy in the library. After that, though? It was [i]all[/i] downhill, dude. Tons of freshies had come up to him and asked for advice in the tryouts. Damian had gotten sick of it after about three of them, but he’d kept a smile on his face, and been encouraging. He’d given advice where it was asked for, and done his best to be himself; that is to say, a generally nice guy. After school, Damian had gone to detention — only to find out that he wasn’t due until the next week. Since he wasn’t on the team anymore, he’d done the next best thing and decided to make a rare appearance at his other extra curricular activity: Drama.

By the time Marshall had walked in, Damian had taken a seat in the classroom and was looking around on his phone for plays that they could do (he wasn’t much of a singer, but he liked acting). He looked up though, when one of the girls in the room suggested they do a performance of Tarzan. When Ms. May had asked why, the girl had shamelessly responded, [b]“So Damian can play Tarzan and be shirtless.”[/b]

[color=309b75][b]“Is that… is that a complement?”[/b][/color] Damian asked slowly, looking around the room for a second opinion.

[color=997fdb][b]“Pfft,”[/b][/color] Marshall responded snarkily, both to the girl, and to Damian’s reaction. [color=997fdb][b]“Girrlll, unless you’re looking to see my candy-ass shirtless, you might wanna rethink that vote. No way is Damian getting the lead role, this isn’t the football field.”[/b][/color]

[b]“Marshall, watch yourself.”[/b] Ms. May chided with a glare.

Marsh shrugged in response, completely unashamed of himself. He didn’t press the situation, instead he offered up an idea of his own. [color=997fdb][b]“What about a fun musical? Like Hairspray… or Legally Blonde?”[/b][/color]

Damian looked up and suddenly found himself way more interested in drama than he could have ever imagined. His pride had been poked at, and while not yet wounded, Damian had to stand up for himself. He couldn’t take something like that, especially not from someone like… Marshall, of all people. [color=309b75][b]“Actually, uh, I’m pretty good at this whole acting thing? I know I haven’t [i]actually[/i] been in a production yet, but I’ve been practicing with my mom since the day I was born. I promise you, I’m miles better than you could ever believe.”[/b][/color] 

[color=997fdb][b]“Well, isn’t that sweet?”[/b][/color] Marshall said with a smug grin. The stupid Elite and their party and their Owen had done enough damage, Marsh wasn’t about to let them have more. Marshall had no doubt that he would get the lead male role, and if not him, then Jacobi, but most likely him. He was the star of the show, and Damian was just begging for scraps. Damian was free to think what he wanted to, though.

Damian shifted and leaned forward, [color=309b75][b]“We ain't doin’ [i]either[/i] of those, though. Let’s do Tarzan. Then we can let someone else choose who gets it. Auditions, right? Same as a tryout for the team…”[/b][/color]

That caused Marshall to raise an eyebrow. Honestly, who did he think he was stepping in and attempting to call the shots right away? Marsh was about to open his mouth for some more sassy banter when another voice chimed in from behind them.

[color=B580f7][b]“I… have an idea.”[/b][/color] Coming from the shadows of the auditorium, among the seats of where the audience would be, Rose hugged a booklet that looked like a professional Broadway script, with an art cover and everything. She didn’t even know if it was worth bringing, it wasn’t even her best work, but she felt like she should try. Starting small and then seeing where that took her. Her best work was too personal to actually bring to school, so she would start with one of her smaller projects. 

The burners had a reputation of not getting involved in school activities, but Rose wasn’t like most burners. She knew better than most that there were talented kids in all circles. No matter how high, or low, on the ladder you were (are), this school was full of kids with aspirations, dreams, and talents beyond belief. Even if her therapist said it was okay to disappear and have a relatively simple life, Rose didn’t think sitting around and doing nothing would help her feel… whole. She wasn’t going to pretend to be someone she wasn’t — why couldn’t being yourself be enough? The weed had definitely calmed her nerves so that she could handle something like this but she was still a little nervous… presenting her work in front of a tough crowd would make anyone nervous! And yet, she was willing to try. 

[b]“We’re all ears, Rose.”[/b] Ms. May gracefully gestured for the junior with voluminous near platinum blonde hair to take center stage. 

[color=B580f7][b]“Okay, yeah. I got this.”[/b][/color] Once Rose had made it up the stairs and on the stage, she stood inside the circle. Most people knew the eccentric girl had a melting pot of skills. Clearing her throat, she displayed her book. The front cover had a striking picture of a female’s face, only the bottom half, and it was taped close. On the tape the title of her book was written in bold marker: [b]Say Something[/b]. 

[color=B580f7][b]“I wrote this freshmen year actually. The concept is simple. If you could say anything you wanted, without any consequences or feeling like someone won’t like what you say, what would you say? Going to this school I learned a lot by simply watching people… it follows the lives of four vastly different teens. One fateful night puts things into perspective for them. By the end of the play, they each learn something about themselves. It explores simple, yet intimate questions that root back to their personal battles like admitting you don’t have everything together or realizing you lost your chance by not saying how you feel. Throughout the story, there are monologues where you’re in their heads. The scene freezes and the spotlight is on one of the teens. The audience gets a glimpse of what these kids want to say, but do they ever say it?”[/b][/color] 

Rose dramatically paused for a second, to add to her presentation, give her audience food for thought, as she handed the drama director her book, [color=B580f7][b]“It doesn’t have to be picked. I just thought I’d try. Even if you guys read it and play out scenes during club I’d be more than grateful. I know plays usually help students forget about exams and what not — a time for us to suspend our disbelief, but I feel like a lot of people would take something from this.”[/b][/color] Rose was a lot wiser than she gave herself credit for. Her play essentially went over the struggles of being a teen, which many people at Beverly Hills High could appreciate. 

What they didn’t know, which was mentioned in the prologue, is the problems she covered are from real kids that she reached out to online to make her play feel real. [color=B580f7][b]“I think it would be cool too if the ending was interactive. Like what if you had people at the school submit an entry of something they wish they could say, but were too afraid to. A confession box... I guess. Before opening day, of course. It would stay anonymous. But it would be read out loud by the leading four people after the finale. I think some people here would find comfort they’re not alone.”[/b][/color] 

And while Rose talked, she glowed. There was no doubt she cared about her colleagues and was more present in the ‘know’ of the school than people realized. [color=B580f7][b]“There’s a quote from one of my favorite musicals, Dear Evan Hansen… that kinda inspired the idea. And well, learning more about my mom and dad’s love story, which was far from perfect.”[/b][/color] Closing her eyes, she [i]actually[/i] started to sing the words from this musical. Her voice had a surprising uniqueness to it. Wistful, strummy, and even kind of haunting... in a good way, that is. 

[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yeE2n0kfV_o][color=B580f7][b]“Even when the dark comes crashing through
When you need a friend to carry you
And when you’re broken on the ground
You will be found...”[/b][/color][/url]

Ms. May was awestruck, to say the least, and was surprised Rose’s voice hadn’t been noticed until this moment. A girl with more shine than she knew. What couldn’t she do? She had more going for her than she even knew. Her presentation itself simply for them to use her script was outstanding. 

Marshall looked at Rose thoughtfully. He knew of her, because Marshall made it his job to know about everyone and anyone at school. Being as nosey as he was was pretty much a full time gig, but he was damned good at it, and he sure as hell enjoyed himself sitting at his spot in the gossip mill. She was one of the creative types, a little unchained, but so were most of this world’s most fantastic authors. [color=997fdb][b]“That was really brave of you, Rose.”[/b][/color] He began in a completely genuine tone. [color=997fdb][b]“Like, really brave. I applaud it. I’d like to be able to read it over first, but I think it might be fun to try something totally new and original. Is there any music?”[/b][/color]

As the other members of drama club were discussing what was sure to be something woefully silly and incorrect — such as the merits of Shakespeare (who of course, had none) or which insipid musical was better: the one about love or the one about sad people and also love — the door swung open and a bit of laughter carried through the entrance as the proverbial drama queen (and self appointed queen of drama) herself finally deigned to arrive. Shauna Flynn wasn’t alone, given the laughter of hers, as her arm was around the waist of a clearly younger student who was trying to smile and see the best of her situation as a bumped cheerleader. Shauna was making sure the freshman girl was as close as one could be without simply being carried and Shauna was smiling enough for the both of them. [color=ff6347][b]“And we’ve arrived. See? I told you there was more to this school than those short skirt twirlers. Like me.”[/b][/color] The Shark had already started to sink her teeth into another lost soul. 

[color=ff6347][b]“Sorry I’m late, everyone, but today was cheerleading tryouts and as you can see there’s a wealth of…[i]talent[/i] this year. What have I missed? Probably nothing important, I hope.”[/b][/color] 

When Shauna stepped in, there was a wash of emotions on Damian. Fresh ones, not lust for Joy, sadness for the loss of his spot on the team, or even anger at Marshall for trying to cut him down. It was mostly disgust with Shauna for being… well, herself. Shauna was a manipulator; a gross, vile person. She took advantage of younger girls, then cut them off like fat and left them in the dirt, where they cried and cried and did their best to get over her. It was [i]evil.[/i]

Did Damian hate her more than Hailey? Yeah, yeah he did. Fucking Shauna. Hailey had her issues, and she tormented everyone, but at least she tormented everyone equally. Shauna just fucked with kids. Which was weird to begin with, man! Fuck it, Damian wasn’t gonna be well liked here, anyway.

[color=309b75][b]“I mean, yeah, you did. All we’ve been doing is talking about the production we’re gonna do next. Aren’t you like, a leading force here? Shouldn’t you be here on time? Can’t you poach at a more convenient time for everyone? Come on, dude. Even I did better than that, and I just signed up like two hours ago. You suck.”[/b][/color]

Damian shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe that people took her seriously (and he couldn’t), before he turned his attention to Rose. [color=309b75][b]“I like your idea. I say let’s do it, and [i]I[/i],”[/b][/color] Damian gestured at his chest. [color=309b75][b]“Shall play a tree.”[/b][/color]

Suddenly, things started feeling [i]real[/i] awkward when Shauna had arrived. Rose didn’t even get a chance to respond to Marshall saying she was no composer, and that she didn’t want to take away from the monologue format by adding songs. Instead her head turned from Shauna to Damian, to Shauna, to Damian again, before shuffling out of the center, ultimately leaving the circle. In complete silence, she opened up her bag and gave Marshall a couple of paper copies of her script. They could duke over what they were going to do about the spring play with her not being in the room… She did the thing. It went successfully, maybe. And now she wanted tacos.  By the look of Ms. May’s face, it looked like she wanted to speak to Rose more, but was preoccupied with settling her usual students. Let Shauna take the floor, and then escape. Good plan, Rose.

Shauna knew better than to rise to the provocation and if she hadn’t been so clearly trying to impress an impressionable young student she likely would’ve let Damian’s comments go without comment. Instead she held firm, turning her attention from her Freshman Catch Of The Day to the meathead masquerading as a thespian. [color=ff6347][b]“And who are you, exactly? I didn’t know we let tourists into the club. Shouldn’t you be bashing your head against other brainless beef slabs or is this some sort of last ditch effort to pretty up your college application letters? I bet you don’t know Mamet from Macbeth or Godot from Diana Son. Now if you’ll allow true fans of the craft to discuss freely, that would be appreciated. Pretend it’s like one of the insipid football games and be a cheerleader.”[/b][/color] Shauna finished her little response by looking to the girl still very much attached at the hip. [color=ff6347][b]“No offense, you’d make going to the games worth every minute.”[/b][/color]

[color=309b75][b]“I’m gonna start from the top, and I’m gonna cut your shit down step by step. First off, you know who I am. Everyone knows who I am. Secondly, I’m not a tourist. I’m a member of the drama club, just as much you or Marshmallow.”[/b][/color] Damian paused, glancing over at Marshall. [color=309b75][b]“Gonna try a couple out. What do you think? I figure if I’m gonna be hanging out here, should have nicknames for people. That’s kinda my thing. Nicknames.”[/b][/color] With that, his attention went back to Shauna. [color=309b75][b]“Thirdly, I may be a beef slab, and I mean… I am. Best arms in the school, worked hard for it. But I'm definitely not brainless, and I got kicked off the team. Do you pay attention to anything that’s not younger than you? I don’t need to pretty up my college apps, any school I choose is gonna beg for me. Now, onto the important stuff. Now, some of you might not know this about me, but ol Damian, well… he’s a bit of a mama’s boy. Now, my mama? She was allll about drama in high school. Ever since I could walk and talk, I’ve been doing actin’, dancin’, and singin’ bullshit with her. Thought I might apply those years of training to something, same as I did when I joined the football and blew everyone away, because, well, I’m my father’s son. Now, I can show you that I’m my mama’s son too.”[/b][/color]

Damian ran a hand through his hair, and jumped up to his feet, stuffing his necklace down his shirt. [color=309b75][b]“You wanna see me do Hamlet’s soliloquy? You want me to do a scene from Death of a Salesman? Newsflash, Shauna. I can do it all. Years and years of practice, time to flex it.”[/b][/color]

[color=309b75][b]“Ain’t no fuckin’ tourist.”[/b][/color] Damian, after saying that, blinked for a second and turned to look at Ms. May, [color=309b75][b]“sorry about that, excuse my language.”[/b][/color]

Boy, was someone rather full of themselves. Shauna tried not to let the indifference show on her face, but as she listened to the droning of a boy playing up his own sense of self importance she found it hard not to simply roll her eyes. How utterly droll. Here she thought he might have had something original to say in his ramblings but when he wasn’t simply parroting the words of others as it pertained to her proclivities he was instead being a braggart that didn’t understand the fine line between cocksure swagger and downright douchebaggery. But more to the point, here was someone attempting to invade Shauna’s domain, and she could not abide that. Four years she had given to this club. She was not about to let the last few months be overtaken by someone who would find tech theater degrading. 

Shauna removed the freshman girl’s hand from around her shoulder (and her own hand from around the freshman’s waist) and approached the newest ‘member’ of the club. [color=ff6347][b]“Foul spoken coward, that thund’rest with thy tongue, and with thy weapon nothing dares perform.”[/b][/color] Challenging words delivered with the chutzpah of one who knew the material off the top of her head. But of course, if this pretender was who he said he was, surely he would know what Shauna was doing.

There were a lot of thoughts swimming around Marshall’s mind. The first and foremost of which was that he quite liked the nickname Marshmallow. He would not, of course, tell the ex-football captain that he liked it. But he did. The second thought was that this moment was literally [i]everything[/i]. So much drama in drama club today, he wished he had a mug for all this spilled tea. Marsh might not approve of Shauna’s thoughts on love and affection, but it was times like this that he loved his lesbian [i]bff[/i]. Shauna had the same fire that he did, the drama queen to his king, and had today not sucked so royally, he might even be participating in these shenanigans himself. The Shakespeare line threw him, however, because he knew how much she disliked the old dead guy. [color=997fdb][b]“Eww, Shauna.”[/b][/color]

It seemed like Ms. May didn’t want Rose to leave. Grumbling to herself, she slumped down in a seat, part of the circle now, and watched two of the most influential people at this school brawl. Her seat was right next to the boy named after a white, fluffy, good snack. Best heated, with chocolate and graham crackers. Not really wanting to listen to their verbal strikes, Rose slipped out her headphones that were attached to her phone and plugged them in her ears. She’ll play her video game playlist. It seemed fitting. The first song to play was the Mortal Kombat theme song and she simply stood silent and watched everyone.  

Geeze, did people really take drama this seriously? Had he not made his point? And they said the [i]jocks[/i] were macho maniacs and overdid it. This was nutty… Whatever. Damian winked at Shauna, yes, he did. Then he spoke. [color=309b75][b]“Away, I say. Now by the gods that warlike Goths adore, this petty brabble will undo us all. Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous it is to jet upon a [i]prince[/i]’s—”[/b][/color] Perhaps not a perfect recitation, Damian put emphasis on the word ‘prince,’ [color=309b75][b]“right? Titus Andronicus. That’s kindergarten shit, Shauna.”[/b][/color] Damian, it seemed, was what he’d presented himself as. Thanks, mom. Finally, the weekly practices, the monthly plays he put on, would be worth it. If only to shut Shauna the fuck up.

Damian was right about one thing and one thing only. [i]Titus Andronicus[/i] was kindergarten shit. What idiot didn’t know Shakespeare? The man was pedantic, pretentious, and pedestrian. Shauna had given a test that was practically open book and she wasn’t exactly impressed that he was able to poorly perform the part of Aaron. She’d expect anyone to do as much as that. [color=ff6347][b]“You might be able to say lines, but you can hardly perform them. Do us all a favor and leave the acting to the professionals. I’m sure our production could always use more set architects.”[/b][/color] It was a point of pride that Shauna had the last word here. No one stepped to the Drama Queen so long as she had a say. 

[color=309b75][b]“Look, man. I get it. You’re angry. I just showed up, and I did everything you thought I wouldn't be able to do, but that’s no reason to be so… aggressive. Did your mother never hug you as a child? Because I’m [i]definitely[/i] getting some unloved child vibes here.”[/b][/color] Damian asked, his voice dripping with what seemed to be genuine concern as he leaned forward toward her, tilting his head quizzically. [color=309b75][b]“And it’s one thing to take that aggression out, y’know, physically. I know an awesome Combat Club you might join. But don’t be so emotionally, you know… bitchy? Maybe people would actually like you if you weren’t such a wretched cunt. I offered to play a tree, but you guys had to keep pokin’ the pride.”[/b][/color]

[b]“That’s quite enough, don’t push it with the language, Damian. I am still a teacher, even if this is a club activity. Let’s get back to the task at hand. First, I would like to address Rose’s proposal. Would you  mind if we made copies of the script for everyone to review before the next time the club meets?”[/b] Ms. May cut into the conversation that was turning much more vitriolic than was appropriate for a school function.

Errr, taking out her headphones, Rose stared at the teacher and dumbly blinked, [color=B580f7][b]“...come again?”[/b][/color]

[color=997fdb][b]“Rose gave me some copies, Ms. May. I can make enough for everyone after drama club.”[/b][/color]

[b]“Fabulous, thank you, Marshall. Let’s all check out the story before our next meeting, and we will table the discussion of this semester’s production until then. Next on this list to get through today is our fundraiser. As you know, each school club is required to hold at least one fundraiser per semester. The drama club usually puts on a spring talent show, so be sure to get involved somehow — be it working the event, or participating in it. Perhaps you can put some of those emotions to good use, Mr. O’ Connor and Miss Flynn, by raising money for the [i]Childhood Cancer Foundation[/i].”[/b] The blonde teacher concluded with a warm smile. She then walked over to Marshall and Rose to obtain a copy of the script for herself. [b]“And I do hope that you will be joining us, Rose. You have a lovely voice.”[/b]

Talent show, huh? Damian was feeling like actually being in a play was pretty… toxic. And he wasn’t about that life, [I]BUT[/I] a talent show? That was something he might be able to get behind. It would be a much easier way to show off for his mother, rather than trying to get the leading role in a play where egos were this big… Damian nodded to himself, and without another word to Shauna, walked over to where Marshall and Rose were sitting, taking a seat on the other, free side of Marshall. [color=309b75][b]“Wanna be partners for the talent show?”[/b][/color] He asked, beaming.

That was unexpected. Marshall looked at the jock skeptically and all but squinted as you could visibly see the cogs turning in his mind. Why on [i]earth[/i] did Damian want to be his partner? Damian, friend of Owen, BHHS’s very own resident ‘gay basher’, who still seemed very much so out to get Marshall. This was fishy. Despite his responses usually being well-thought out, sassy, and very put together, Marsh could only manage to reply with a: [color=997fdb][b]“What?”[/b][/color]

[color=309b75][b]“Me. You. Partners. Do a scene together. For the talent show?”[/b][/color] This time, Damian deliberately spoke slower.

[color=997fdb][b][i]“Why me?”[/i][/b][/color] Marshall asked, his suspicion clear and plain in the tone of his voice.

[color=309b75][b]“...because you’re good at this and I want a competent partner since you guys are nutty as fuck and I don’t want to try and get the leading role anymore? I’m content playing a tree, but if I can put a show on for my mama, that’d be cool.”[/b][/color]

At that, Damian did just about the only thing that he could have done to distract Marshall from his suspicions (at least momentarily). Damian spoke to Marsh’s pride. He [i]was[/i] good at this, he was the [i]best[/i] at it, in fact. Marshall’s lips quirked up slightly. [color=997fdb][b]“Well, at least you have good taste, because you’re not wrong. I suppose I can agree to that.”[/b][/color]

[color=B580f7][b]“Me? Acting? [sub]I-don’t-know-if-I’d-be-good.[/sub]”[/b][/color] Or even if her schedule would allow it! From smoking weed to preparing for the fashion show to being home doing stupid stuff with her friends to helping with the set of whatever play they chose… Rose had A LOT going on. But it would be a new experience and Ms. May said she had a lovely voice. How would her mama and daddy feel if she was acting beside shiny people like Marshall, Shauna, and Damian? Potentially her play too! Her cheeks grew warm at the idea of making her parents smile in the audience, while she stood on stage. [color=B580f7][b]“I’ll think about it, Ms. May…”[/b][/color] Oh snap, she forgot there was a talent show. Dude, she and her friends should do stupid stuff on stage. That would be dope.[/indent]