❝ adrift, bygone, but always near. still loved, still missed, and still dear. ❞
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬⠀⠀
⠀ ⠀Wherein Ash and Serena reunite with the latter by an unseen stroke of fate. With a history l...
❝ (v.) to have a paralyzing or mesmerizing effect on someone.❞
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Heart palpitations, quivering lips, and cold sweat dripping down my forehead - they were all concrete proofs that the situation I was in ain't some phantasm. Theatre curtains were down but they didn't sabotage those loud articulations and whistles - the audience - perhaps a monster if seen through my point of view.
I readjusted my hairdo that May had enfolded with uncountable number of bobby pins, faking a shorter bobcut. The protagonists' hair colors have coincidentally been switched in the play - our Cinderella is raven haired while Prince Charming on the other hand is blonde. Insane, am I right?
Analyzing deeply though - our legend is nothing but insanity, and not like any other.
It didn't require to be penned down on pages as a celebrated fable. It was an illusionary, held fast in our memory walls like fluorescent stickers, glowing with an identical light but distinctive at outlines. And putting these outlines in literary form - it meant that our angles of considering things were unsimilar like sky and the sea, No match whatsoever.
But alas, here we are, enacting possibly the most clichéd dream couple in the chronicles of love.
Such were we, such was our fate.
"Please don't goof up the narrations. My belief's in you." I said to the brunette, rubbing my icy palms together and restlessly zigzagging all over the back stage. There were two on either sides of the platform, separated for males and females.
Through the little gapped doorway I could see Gladion, Drew and some other recognizable faces making last minute adjustments in the first scene backdrop.
The blonde guy had a difficult to make out frown on his face. Though his focus seemed to be in the chores - his sight was far off somewhere, like being with us was a forceful act that he didn't want to be a part of. He was acting that way ever since May and I told him about Lillie's sickness and how she couldn't even stand on her own in the morning.
He was disturbed just as I had foreseen, but accepted the truth eventually. And as much as I hated to notice, his way of saying "It's alright, I'm sure that she'll manage", carried some sort of despair.
He was concerned, though not dominating like months ago, he genuinely cared for Lillie like a loyal brother would do.
May hinted to have observed the growing pallor on my face, because her bold expressions softened into sympathy.
"I've practiced reading out the lines more than needed, Serry." She said, perching down on a spare folding chair and pulling me to the same. Once I sat and paused tapping my feet, she exhaled, placing a hand over my shoulder.
"Now what's bothering me the most is how Ash is gonna react." I clenched my fingers, staring at my lap as I told her.
"He'll be shocked, that's so obvio." Her tone was laced with sarcasm. "Or maybe he'll start screaming at you then and there, or even push you off the stage, Or the worst - what if he'll break all relations with you?"
