Duologue - Memeulous x ImAllexx (unfinished - go to the rewrite)

4

"To suffer fifty weeks of the year for the sake of a two-week vacation, when all you really desire is to be outdoors, with your shirt off." 
- Arthur Miller, Death of a Salesman

🂴

George had gone back to the theatre room for his forgotten gym bag this time, but yet again found Alex mumbling to himself on stage. He checked the time, he had plenty, and headed on over to the skinny, pink clad boy.

"Want a partner again?" George was already reaching for the text, this time a little more confident.

Alex nodded gratefully and watched as George got settled into the script. "So we're starting from the top of page 20?"

"Yeah, down to her crying monologue."

George's eyes widened a little. "Sounds intense."

"Tell me about it, why we wrote such an emotional play I can't understand. But at least after this scene I don't talk much until act two."

It was set in a cafe, the characters sat at a table and having a meaningful conversation, full of hidden messages and emotions, from what George could gather. He was never great in english, and never tried in theatre class. So he supposed that many of the hidden meanings were lost on him.

They ran through the pages, George not bothering to put feminine airs into Cathy's voice. It felt stupid enough that he was even reading the play out loud, let alone to act as this upper-middle class woman.

He somewhat tried to express emotion, though, and Alex evidently noticed as he piped up as they finished the scene. "You know, you have a really nice voice."

"Uh, thanks?" It wasn't supposed to come out as a question but George was surprised, the compliment came from the guy who could talk the whiskers off a cat.

"I wasn't expecting the tone of it, it's so much more soothing than I imagined. I mean, I would imagine your voice to sound like." Alex shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you never talk, other than saying like "cool" and "sure". I don't think I've heard you speak much more than about 5 times this entire year. - Other than these rehearsals."

George took it in for a second and then shrugged too, "I guess I don't talk much around non-friends."

"Right, I'll work up to that, then. I guess we've never had the chance to get close before."

George stopped rifling through the pages and stared, bewildered at the grey eyed boy, "Alex, you've given me a lapdance."

"Ah, yeah, right." Alex's blush could warm up the world. "You weren't very responsive to that. I'll have to try harder next time."

"Sure." George chuckled and started from the top of the script, this time watching Alex's movements.

He was awkward. Unromantic for the scene. It was clear to George as Alex pronounced the lines that he didn't love Claire, or Cathy, or whatever her name was.

"You hate me." He stopped Alex mid-flow.

"What? No, I don't!" Alex panicked a little.

"No, I mean, you hate Cathy or whatever, aren't you supposed to be secretly in love?" George mused.

"Well, yeah, was I not portraying that?" Alex grew on the defensive, an obvious habit of his.

George shrugged and looked back down at the pages. He squinted for a line, and once found he pointed it out with a vigorous "there!"