Sanders Sides One Shots: Volume 1 [COMPLETED]

My Hero (Prinxiety)

Requested

It was late in the afternoon. The rehearsal had ended and most of the cast and crew had gone home for the night. Not Virgil; he took it upon himself to clean up and tie up any loose end jobs to be ready for rehearsal on Monday. As just a lighting techie, it wasn't as if anyone besides the director noticed his presence. Said director had given him a copy of the key that lock the stage door since he'd expressed his desire to stay late. So here he was, sweeping and tidying the theatre and the house late after rehearsal.

Virgil's attention was caught as he heard the sound of voices. Loud voices he heard every day as he made his way through the halls. Oh no... not football players, he thought.

"Dude! Look at the shit! It's crazy! I bet I could be you to the top!" one of them boasted, looking at the tall ladder that led to the catwalk.

Virgil's heart lurched as he thought about all that could go wrong with three pompous jocks running around up there. "U-Uh excuse me?" he said, approaching them before they started to climb. "I'm going to have to ask you to please leave... the c-catwalk's off limits to non-theatre students..."

They just laughed, making the nervous techie shrink back as they approached him. "And who are you to tell us what we can and can't do, pipsqueak?" the one who'd previous spoke sneered, shoving him to the ground.

He yelped as he landed on his hip, sharp pain surging through it. "P-Please, guys, it's j-just the rule! There's lots o-of valuable s-stuff up there," he pleaded from the ground. The jock crouched down, grabbing him by the shirt and pressing him against a wall forcefully.

"Look at the way he's trembling!" one of his friend cackled. "He's terrified!"

"As he should be," the one holding him snickered, smirking evilly. "Bill, Chase, go find some paint or something. I want to teach this guy who thinks he can boss me around a lesson."

His friends nodded, laughing as they began searching the theatre. Virgil could only watch helpless from his place against the wall, praying they didn't break anything that he couldn't fix once they left. "P-Please be careful-"

The techie yelped painfully as the football player holding him against the wall smacked him across the face. His cheek burned and tears sprung to his eyes. "Not another word out of you," he warned, clearly enjoying this more than any normal kid should. Virgil nodded frantically, keeping his mouth shut and letting his head hang limply.

Meanwhile, Roman was walking back up to the school, praying it was unlocked. He'd forgotten his bag, which had his script, his props, and his water bottle inside. Roman was that kid everyone adored, the one that always got the leads. Not that he didn't deserve them. He worked himself just as much, if not harder, than the other kids, not letting his privilege go to his head. He pulled at the stage door, sighing in relief as he realized it opened. He rushed for the dressing rooms, finding his bag and his belongings all intact. "Thank goodness," he murmured, shaking his head with a smile as he pulled it onto his shoulder.

On his way out, he heard voices. Laughing and yelling coming from somewhere in the theatre. He hadn't noticed on his way in because he'd been too worried about his bag, but now he went to investigate.

No one should still be here, rehearsal ended almost an hour ago, Roman thought, frowning. He heard someone cry out followed by more laughter, making him walk faster. What the hell is going on?

When he made it to the scene, his eyes widened. Three jocks were standing over a boy he recognized to be on lighting crew. Virgil, the quiet boy he'd been crushing on for years, was on the ground in pain with tears rolling down his cheeks as he let the football players hit him. Roman felt anger surge through him, seeing that one was holding a paint can. Judging by his previous cry of pain, he could only assume they'd used it to hit him.