My teacher? Nah he's my husband

The Play

"Here you go." Jackson hands the question paper over to Mark. School ended, and now it was just the two of them in the teacher's lounge, doing their study session.

Mark could feel the staring he's been receiving from his teacher ever since he started answering the questions. "If you wanna say something just shoot instead of staring at me like a cat staring at a fish." He said, not looking up from the question paper. 

Jackson runs his hand through his hair, knowing that it won't be easy to convince this boy to join the play, but yeah giving it a try won't hurt. "You know our school is organizing a play right, so-" before he could end, "I'll only join if it has nothing to do with performing." Mark cuts his sentence.

Jackson looks at Mark with wide eyes. "Who are you?" he takes the latter's face in his huge hands. "What did you do to the stubborn Mark?" Rolling his eyes, Mark slaps his teacher's hand away and continue his works. "I know you would insist on me joining this play so before I could listen to that nagging of yours, it's better for me to volunteer."

Jackson nodded at that. "So I already got you a role but before I write your name in the form I need you to confirm one thing, do you know how to sew?"

"Only the basic."

"Good, so you will be in charge of the heroine's props." The redhead looks up from his paper. "The heroine? So I gotta make a dress?" Jackson nods.

Mark sighs "Do I have a say in this?" Jackson shakes his head. "Well, you asked for something that has nothing to do with performing so I'm giving you one."

"Yes, but why the heroine's props? I know nothing about dresses." Mark trie to reason with the man in front of him. "That's the only available role left and plus, you won't be needing to sew everything from scratch because they will buy it, you just need to add what's needed to complete the dress. I'm one of the play's organizers, don't worry I'll help you in any way I can." 

Mark sighs, "Do I really need to take part in this?" Jackson nodded at that. Letting out another sigh, "Fine." He agreed. Little did he know what's about to happen.

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"Mark, can you get the ribbon done?" Asked one of the girls who are also in charge of the heroine's props. 

"Sure" Mark replied with a smile, taking the dress with the undone ribbon from the girl who he doesn't bother to know her name. He places the dress on the table in front of him and takes the neddle along with the thread, before starting on the dress.

Not long after that, the familiar figure approaches him. "Told ya, you will do a good job. Look at those dresses." Not looking up, he continues with his sewing.

"Well you better give me the merits I deserved or I'm gonna kill you." He said, not looking up. 

"I know how to do my job."

"What are you doing here? Don't you have anything better to do?"

"I AM doing my job, which is looking over you guys." Mark sighs. "Then go watch over them and stop bothering me."

"What's wrong with you? Not feeling well?" He sits in front of the redhead and looks at his face.

 "Nah sorry, I'm just tired. Well I mean look at these dresses, I've been fixing them since yesterday but nothing matches their interest. I honestly don't understand women, I mean just how do they want their dress to look like? Do they think their ugly face would become beautiful just because they are wearing beautiful dresses? Who do they think are? What world do they think they are living in? Do they think they are the ugly duck that will turn into a swan by wearing a beautiful dress? For fuck sake just where did they put their brain at?!" He ends his rants with a glare at the man in front of him.