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alchemist-shizun · 5 years ago

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To tend thee is my care

ACT I

ACT II - Read on Ao3!

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Word count: 13,679

Taglist: @lesbianturtle @len-art-trash @i-need-you-buddy @jeevashun @quietlypondering @creativity-killed-thekitten @bookwyrminspiration @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @softanxiouspatton @be-more-chaotic @pheonix-inside-reblogs @www-dot-ohshit-dot-com @datfearlessfangirl @alltimevirgilant @royalnerd829 @just-fic-me-up @theblankest123 @theotherella @thesleepyraziel @gaylotusthatexists @sendingcookiesfromhell @mijako98 @logicalberry @maybe-i-like-the-misery @orderly-opaline @purpledemond

(Please tell me if you want to be added too for Act II!)

Characters: Virgil, Nonbinary!Roman

Summary: You’ve heard of enemies to lovers now get ready for acquaintances to friends to now we’re fighting because I’m scared of your rejection so I’m pretending it’s your fault when it clearly is mine to friends again, even though you’re an idiot, but I still love you to lovers.

Roman and Virgil are both part of the theater group of their school, Roman is one of the actors, while Virgil is the head of the stage design group. Despite being in the same year and having lessons in the same building, they hadn’t really ever talked to each other, but everything was about to change when the teachers, heads of the whole theater group, announced that they were going to challenge themselves by presenting one of Euipides’ last plays: The Bacchantes. Follow our two main characters helping each other out as one is forced to learn how to act in a matter of months and the other goes through a journey of self-discovery as he studies his role.

Pairing(s): Prinxiety (I’m unpredictable)

Warning(s): Mild swearing, Death mention (mostly when talking about the tragedy), Blood mention (once), Negative thinking, Implied toxic parenting (once), [Me projecting heavily onto Virgil (also Ro at some point)]

A/n: I’ve been writing this for months and I can’t explain how proud I am to show you guys this! Before you start reading, I want to inform you that the school system I write about here is not the American one since I know little to nothing about it. Instead I’ll be using the one of my country for reasons of simplicity. (All names I use here are invented, so you can place the events wherever you’d like.) I thought about doing a long for this plot but I chose to write a one shot instead, since it’s pretty long I decided to divide it into two acts, the second one is coming very soon. I studied and read the whole play translated in my original language, that’s where the inspiration for my au came from. All the English translations I used for the play are from here, here and here. The song mentioned is So Contagious by Acceptance. That being said, hope you enjoy!

✾✾✾✾

What now?

It was during an October’s Tuesday that Virgil had started panicking due to school stress.

It wasn’t like his teachers hadn’t been pressuring his class ever since they entered their first fifth year lesson: partly because of the final exams, the rest of the time they asked about their university choices.

This year’s archaeological excavation, an experience reserved only to the students of his course, was also placed exactly in those three weeks of October were the theater group had started.

Tuesday in October for Virgil meant lessons until half past midday, research for the upcoming excavation exhibition until two p.m., theater club for an hour, then back to doing research with one of his teachers and half of his classmates until 17:00.

In all honesty, he wouldn’t have minded being buried alive when they’d have to cover back up the site.

Virgil had tried convincing himself that it wasn’t really that hard, besides the club had just started and the first few days were mostly focused on helping the first years settle, be comfortable with the teachers and also test out their abilities. And this one was only the second meeting.

But, of course, his day had to get worse. Life was trying him, and boy, did he hate sudden drastic changes.

It was when he noticed all the odd attention he was getting by the teachers that he realized something was definitely going to go wrong.

Everyone took a seat on the wooden bleachers of the old gym, they were basically attached to the pavement and the obnoxious yellow-painted walls of the large room. A quick glance around and you had the feeling that everything was going to collapse at any moment.

Virgil saw some familiar faces, some new ones, but he definitely couldn’t forget about the regulars: his beloved stage deseign group, which were a bunch of students that the teacher trusted him enough to take care of and teach them what they had to do during shows and how to prepare the stage. And next to them some actors from the last three years, Dave, Bonnie, Lukas and Roman.

He and Roman were the only ones brave enough to stick around even during the toughest year of that hellhole, so everyone silently respected them. And just as much as Virgil helped the newcomers in his group, Roman was happy to lend a hand in acting along side the most talented fourth and third years above mentioned.

« Well hello and welcome back here, guys! » Mrs. Michaelis had started, clasping her hands together, she was an English grammar and literature teacher.

After making sure everybody had arrived, they explained that since the week after they were going to see the first years’ “auditions” as they liked to call them, but they were really simply methods to check how promising someone could be at acting.

« I know this may sound shocking, we still can’t believe it- »

« Mostly because normally it takes us a couple of months before choosing a script. » Mrs. Eagan, an ancient Greek and Latin teacher, had interrupted, causing multiple chuckles from the students.

« … As I was saying, yes. We already know the play that we’ll be covering this year, we also have scripts ready for almost everybody. But there’s some news! »

« This year we decided to sign up our group and participate to some kind of challenge! » murmurs began to fill the room, as uneasiness set in Virgil’s stomach. Why make things harder for everybody? Wasn’t it just as good doing a simple show one night and one morning?

« Some, let’s say, “judges” are going to attend our play and afterwards, if they’re satisfied enough, they will let us take our production to the biggest local theater! »

The murmurs transformed into gasps, that theater was placed in the city of their province, getting an invitation was a huge challenge.

« And our play is going to be … » Mrs. Eagan’s eyes met Virgil’s and fixated on them. That’s when he began overthinking. Why was she looking directly at him? That never meant good news. « … Euripides’ tragedy, The Bacchantes. »

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Only his eyes widened among the confused looks of most of the students. He had studied that play, along side many other ones, in his fourth year. He did truly love them, but damn him if they weren’t already a challenge to portray.

« That’s right Virgil, you know it. » why was also the English teacher giving him his attention? What were they planning, did he have to explain the play to everybody?

All the students turned to face him, some quietly asking what was the plot, some fourth years of his same course demanded to know if it was a difficult topic.

« Easy now, everybody, he’s already been tested last year by Mr. Richardson. » one of the teachers interrupted, walking closer to the spot where Virgil sat, for some reason he had found himself next to the “talented actors group”.

They explained the plot for everybody after that.

« We know it might be real tough, so this year we already agreed on the roles beforehand. Don’t worry, if you didn’t get your time to shine this year, in the next ones you totally will. »

Wait, he wasn’t part of the actors group, why did this have anything to do with him? Why were they still staring at him?

To his relief, the teachers addressed the newcomers first. « We were thinking about giving the role of the chorus to the first and second years, they have long bits, but we can split them instead of making you all recite them, so that you don’t feel too burdened and the role becomes easy for all of you. »

« The roles of the messengers will be given to our third years, messengers are used to explain everything that happens that does not happen on scene. One of the rules for tragedies was that the scene had to take place in the same time and place. Also, they didn’t show blood and/or murders/suicides on scene. They were all narrated. »

« As for our three fourth years. » they looked over Virgil’s shoulder to Dave, Lukas and Bonnie. « Your roles will be Cadmus, Tiresias and Agave. They play a very important part in the whole story, we trust you’ll do a great job. »

« As for our main characters, Pentheus and Dionysus … » they set their eyes on Roman, who looked more expectant than ever.

But then they also shifted their glances to Virgil.

« We were thinking our only fifth years could have their roles as a good way of saying goodbye to them, since this will be their last play. » everybody else was nodding in agreement, Roman was beaming but slightly confused. Wasn’t Virgil part of the stage design group?

In fact, our little emo kid could only look back in disbelief.

« Roman, Virgil, would you like to become a king and a god, respectively? »

What now?

As the beloved actor was about to answer, Virgil interrupted with a shy apology. « I’m sorry, but there must be a mistake, I’m not part of the actors group, I’ve never acted in the past four years, actually. »

« We know Virgil, but we really thought it might be such a nice way of thanking you guys for your contributions all these years. »

Oh yes, you’re right, putting me in a stress condition by making me do something I have no idea about for a big project that could take us to one of the largest theaters of the country is definitely the best choice you could have made.

All he was able to say was a stuttering noise, as they continued with their little speech. « And Roman is such a good actor, he’s going to help you for sure, aren’t you? »

The mentioned boy nodded vigorously, then proceeded to show one of his brightest smiles. « I always come to the rescue of my fellow actors in need. »

Yeah. Amazing. He was stuck with their decision.

« Besides you already probably know each other pretty well by now, so it won’t be a problem! »

The two students looked at each other. The recognizable expressions of two teens that, despite being in the same year and club, had never said a single word to each other apart from when needed during rehearsals.

« … Right. »

« But what about my group then? » Virgil questioned, he was definitely not going to leave them behind just like that.

« You don’t have to worry about them. This year your History of Art teacher will be lending a hand with the stage and volunteered to be the head of the group. »

Right. Mr. Williams, one of the only teachers that were pretty tolerable in his class.

« And look at them. » he did so, and he was met with happy smiles and encouraging faces. « I’m sure they’ll do a good job after four years with you by their side. Right, Anastasia? »

Anastasia was one of the oldest of the bunch, if not one of the wisest and most skilled, sometimes they wondered if she could just do anything that crossed her mind. « You got it! » she leaned in as if to get closer to the older boy. « We’ll be cheering for you Virge! » she concluded, followed by a couple of “Yeah!“s.

Everybody was so joyful and expectant that he couldn’t help but comply, so he decided to simply sigh and reply with nothing.

As the teachers continued with their topics for the meeting, Virgil couldn’t help but have a single thought in his mind.

This is going to be the most awkward thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.

✾✾✾✾

As soon as the meeting came to an end, Virgil was fast to get up and rush towards the dungeon’s stairs that would lead again to the surface. Basically there were two buildings, the school and the gym, linked by a little dungeon were there were all the labs and computer rooms.

He had to get back to the library as soon as he could, or god knows what “you’re late” speech his teacher would have given him. He was always literally on the verge of marking his students as absent if they didn’t show up to the lesson in the exact minute before the bell rang.

Virgil decided to panic about the dumpster fire that had come his way during the meeting after that. One issue at a time. First of all, he had to reach the stairs’ gate and push-

« Hey! Wait for me. »

God, he didn’t have time for this. He kept walking, ignoring the voice behind him and hoping for it to give up and leave him to his well-deserved peace and quiet. At least for three minutes.

As he walked, he found none but Roman himself matching his pace and walking by his side with a curious look. Who could blame him for wanting to be nice?

« You forgot your stuff in your classroom too? » he tried, not a brilliant starter for a conversation, but he had to get something out of the boy.

« No. » cut and dry, that was the only thing that Virgil dared to let escape his mouth.

« Where to, then? »

« The library. »

« Oh, are you waiting for a bus? Maybe I could keep you company. »

« Listen. » they made to a stop as they reached the last floor, not that far off from Virgil’s destination. « Today’s already been as stressful as it is, could you just … go straight to the point? I don’t have much time here. »

It was not like he had meant to sound rude, it wasn’t like it was his purpose either to brush off someone just like that or to see the other boy’s hurt expression. But he had reached a limit in which he didn’t really care-

« Oh, my apologies, then. »

And there was the guilt.

« I was just wondering if we could exchange numbers, if it isn’t uncomfortable for you. I guess we’ll need to hang out in the future. » he tried to sound as confident as he could, but it was as if “awkward” was scribbled all over his face.

« Sure, are you asking me on a date next? » with all the sarcasm injected in his words, he sure as hell wasn’t expecting Roman’s remark.

« Well, if you wouldn’t mind. » a sly smile made its way through the actor’s face, but was soon replaced by a troubled expression when he saw Virgil’s eye roll and sigh.

« Was I … was I too straightforward? I didn’t- »

« You’re fine, calm down. » Virgil quickly took out his phone and unlocked it before passing it to the other student. As he quietly typed after a murmured “alright”, Virgil couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever upset anyone with his bold statements. It wasn’t like this town was open minded, while he seemed … particularly flamboyant.

Before he could finish his thoughts, he had his phone back in his hands and the not-so-much-stranger-anymore was already heading towards his classroom to get his backpack.

« I sent myself a message. » he warned, then he disappeared and reappeared in a matter of seconds, marched down the hall and flashed him a toothy smile while waving his hand.

« Don’t be a stranger, I’ll see you tomorrow! »

Virgil only nodded and found it impossible to take his eyes off of him until the last lock of hair had vanished down the stairs, wondering what had just happened. Maybe that was the magic that worked on his public every year.

He gave a rapid look at the screen of his phone, noticing that the boy had saved himself as “Princey” with a star emoji right next to it.

This time, he entered the library with an amused expression.

✾✾✾✾

Roman kept repeating in his mind that it wasn’t his fault.

Yes, it was Firday. Yes, he had gone the rest of the days without a single word to Virgil, not even when he noticed him in the halls during break or when they either entered or left school. Some days he didn’t even see him.

Yes, he could have texted him. But it felt too weird, yet, they didn’t know each other at all! Plus they didn’t even have the script ready.

Yes, he felt like he had the weight of this play’s success completely on his shoulders and depending on him and still shied away from acknowledging it.

But Virgil kept avoiding him! He couldn’t do much without him.

If he saw him during the ten minutes break, Virgil would walk past him without a second thought as if he didn’t think he needed to talk to him.

Some other times he pretended he didn’t even see him. It was getting tough to even have his attention anymore, as if he had to be added to the mean girls table. He needed a miracle.

And maybe the deities were in his favor that day.

As Roman walked down the path that was made next to the plaza, he noticed a familiar little figure sitting on a bench with a backpack next to him and earbuds in his ears. He was watching in front of him as life flew by and didn’t notice Roman approaching at all.

« Virgil? »

The boy in front of him jerked his head up and took out both of his earbuds; his clothes looked much more worn and randomly put together, as if he had dressed himself in the dark. What got Roman the most was the quantity of dirt that was on them and … was that blood under some of his nails?

Roman dropped his bag on the bench, worry expanding in his chest. « Oh my goodness are you okay? » he made to reach for his hand, only to stop himself just in time to remind him of personal space.

Virgil gave him a confused look and brought his fingers to his eyes, close enough to examine them. « Not again. » he groaned, a huff coming out of his lips.

« Wait, I should have something. »

« You don’t have to, it’s noth- »

« Here! » Roman grabbed a box from his bag triumphantly, he took a couple of plasters and waved them in front of the other.

« Why do you even have so many? »

« What can I say, I’m a clumsy person. »

« Mh. Charming. »

« At least I rescued you! Now, show me your hands. » he ordered, but as soon as he saw Virgil’s mouth open to argue, he was ready to remark « I don’t care if you can do this by yourself, you have literally injured fingers, let me help. »

Seeing that there was no other way out of it, he complied.

As soon as he placed his hands over his fingers, Roman couldn’t help but notice how different their skin tones really were compared to one another, sure the difference was obvious at first glance, but seeing it this close was completely something else. He gently dabbed the fresh blood away with a tissue he had taken out with the box a few instants earlier.

Three plasters and a thank you later, the concerned face came back again and Virgil wanted nothing more than the sweet liberation of death. What was his deal, did he never dig on dirt as a child?

« How did you get hurt? »

Virgil simply pointed behind his shoulders, where Roman could only see a huge pile of dirt resting against a tree. He tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy, a sight the other would have found endearing if only he wasn’t so exasperated and tired.

« I’ve been working all day, Princey. »

Roman smiled at the familiar nickname, but still found confusion in his thoughts. « Aren’t you supposed to be at school? »

« It’s linked to school. Haven’t you heard of the excavations that our school is doing? »

Now that he mentioned that, he had heard a bunch of things, but never really paid attention since it was something that wasn’t related to his course.

Roman attended the Languages course, in which he could learn Spanish and French, other than his mother language, with literature comprehended, and all the experiences linked to it were the cultural exchanges during the third and fourth years.

Virgil, otherwise, was part of the Classical course, meaning that he had signed his death certificate by committing to five years of learning ancient Greek and Latin plus the respective literature as main subjects. But other than that and the famous one week school trip to Greece every three years, Roman had no clue what they did other than study until they couldn’t remember their own names, just like any other student.

Yeah, they couldn’t say their school system was perfect.

« I don’t exactly know every detail. Are you guys doing this? »

« Kind of. What we’re doing is carry on with the work we did the past two years, where we had opened other excavations. Let’s say we’re looking for clues. We’re supervised by an actual archaeologist though. »

« That’s so cool! Did you find any gold? » Virgil wasn’t really expecting such excitement coming from Roman. Apart from the all too familiar question, he often found his interlocutors to be pretty uninterested by the topic.

« No gold, but … remember last Tuesday? » Roman nodded attentively.

« On that morning, during one of Mr. Richardson’s lessons, one of our classmates video-called us saying there was an urgent matter to show us. They had found possibly a Roman coin. » he tried to bite back the smile that threatened to form on his lips at the joyful memory, but nothing could take away that particular twinkle in his eyes.

« Are you serious?! That’s wonderful, what if you find a hidden treasure? »

« Unlikely, but it would be nice. »

« Wow. » Roman breathed out, staring at the scene beside his … new acquaintance? « How did you hurt yourself, anyway? »

« See that pile of dirt? I’ve been scanning every bucket full of soil that was thrown in there. My job was searching in the dirt for possible relics that were missed out while others did the digging. We installed a little assembly line. And running your fingers through that for hours makes you sore I guess. »

« That doesn’t seem very fun, though. »

Virgil shrugged. « I didn’t mind. I like working by myself, especially when the job is as simple as it is important. » And it was true, it wasn’t like the archaeologist put him there because he was just hopeless with the other instruments, every little clue was important and looking for them was a crucial point that can be easily taken care of if you’re a perfectionist.

Plus, the archaeologist seemed to have taken a liking into Virgil, so that didn’t make him feel left out at all.

« Even though, today one of my classmates came to help me. » the boy turned to see that Roman was still listening to him, with no intention of changing the subject. That was new, too.

« You know those terribly annoying ones? He slowed down our chain to the point that he had to argue with this girl that was in dire need of empty buckets while we still had all of them full because he wanted to look through every inch of dirt before handing it out. » he let out a deep sigh, as if he had just been venting for hours.

« That was pretty idiotic, what happened then? »

« Uh, well, we went back to working, just as I was doing before he came to help. »

Roman snorted, imagining the scene in front of his eyes. « So he made a fuss only for it to go back as before and prove him wrong. I’d say he’s pretty amazing. »

« Yeah. » Virgil agreed, « Anyway, sorry for rambling. » he added in a lower tone, while checking his phone for notification, before putting it away quickly.

Roman arched his eyebrow at his words. « As someone who whines constantly, I don’t really think you should worry. »

At least, that succeeded to steal a chuckle from the tired one.

« Did you find anything? » Virgil was really starting to believe this guy couldn’t have a minute of pure silence.

« Well, there’s always a couple of bones, some weird ferric objects, teeth and … » he stopped, remembering the event of the week before.

This time, a wide smile appeared before he could stop it as he searched through his phone’s camera gallery; it was the one thing he was real proud of, possibly the prettiest of his findings.

He handed the phone over to Roman, whose eyes widened at the sight, in front of him he could see a pic of a piece of ceramic with white, brown, yellow and blue decorations, dirt was still covering it, but you could already make out how beautiful it was.

« You found this in here? »

« Yes, it was amazing. I was standing there, » he pointed to a vague direction in front of the dirt pile, excitement rising in his chest as he remembered. « and someone was throwing the dirt on the pile and I recognized the bottom of the piece. We had already found other ceramics and I was hoping it was one too. So I picked it up as soon as I spotted it and there were at least three inches of dirt on top. I moved it away with my thumb and I was met with that decoration. I think I might have yelled. » he leaned in to take another look at the pic, as if never satisfied with it.

Roman certainly didn’t miss how bright he appeared when he was talking about the excavation, all the tiredness was gone and the pain in his whole body caused by eight hours of work was long forgotten. He looked genuinely happy, a contrast to his unusual dark and broody persona.

« Did you choose you university yet? » he had a thought, while handing the phone back, which could have maybe helped the injured boy.

« Jumping a bit? Uh, no, honestly I have no idea. »

« Ever thought of doing something with archaeology? »

« Uhm … » Virgil tapped his fingers on his palm. It wasn’t like he hadn’t considered the possibility in the past, but he had been told that it was probably too hard and maybe too boring from his point of view. On the other hand he truly enjoyed working in the site …

« You still with me, buddy? You don’t have to choose in the next five minutes. »

« Shut up, I was thinking. »

« Your thinking is too loud. »

« And here I was considering you as actually not that bad. »

« I know you secretly admire me. »

« The important thing is you believe that. »

Their wise and profound conversation was interrupted by Virgil’s ringtone going off, he picked up, had a brief talk and tucked the phone away in his pocket.

« My mother’s arrived to pick me up. » he informed, pointing at a car parked a few feet away from them.

They both stood up, but none of them made to move at all.

« Uh, I was thinking … » Roman struggled to find the right words, as if anything he said might offend Virgil at any given moment. « I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but maybe we could meet up sometimes to talk about the play? Or I could start helping you as soon as we get the scripts. »

Virgil made a face, as if he had been trying to forget a bad nightmare and had just been reminded of it. Still, he had no right to escape that any further, and he was already anxious about not being able to make it in time, even before he could start learning his lines. So maybe starting to work on it sooner wasn’t that bad of an idea.

« Sounds good. » he hesitated, not sure how to continue, when an idea sparked in his mind. « Maybe I could give you some insight on the tragedy. »

« That’d be awesome! When are you free? »

Hah. « During week-days I’m busy until five p.m. everyday. At least for another week, when this project will be over. »

That explained why he was still in town at almost six p.m.

« You guys dig everyday? »

« Something like that. We’re divided into two groups and we dig every other day. When we don’t we still have to stay at school and do researches for the final exhibition. »

Roman’s eyes lit up at the last words, he was going to ask him about it the next time the occasion presented itself.

« That sucks. Okay, look, I don’t wanna steal anymore time from your beloved mother, so I’ll text about it to you later, okay? »

« Cool. » Virgil raised his hand and waved it ever so slightly.

Roman returned the good-bye and got back to his task, marching down the sidewalk, but as Virgil had just opened the door of his mother’s car, he remembered to yell “And don’t forget to get some rest, I’m starting to confuse your makeup with your dark circles!”.

Virgil got into the car with an exasperated sigh and found his mother giggling to herself while she looked at him.

« Was that a friend? »

« God I hope not. »

✾✾✾✾

Tuesday came back in a hurry, along with the theater club, some worried and some bored students. Virgil stood in the middle of “time to panic and/or cry” and “if I don’t fall into eternal slumber right now I will burn this building to the ground”.

If he could name some of the most atrocious backstabbers he had ever met, he’d instantly name his teachers: at first they told his class they’d make it easy for them since they were so busy with the project, now they pretended the students had to be more organized with their studying and homework. Tests and interrogations had been made despite them being at least nine hours at school instead of five, some even coming home later than that.

In a word, they didn’t care, it was the students’ fault.

Virgil had his back against the wall, sitting on the top step of the bleacher with his legs close to his chest, the meeting had been starting for a couple of minutes and, of course, he didn’t have anything to do except hating himself and wait for another uneventful hour to pass.

« Hey Gerard Way Too Dark, look what they gave me. »

Or maybe not.

Virgil looked up to be met with Roman standing in front of him with two binders in his hand: the two of them had agreed on meeting up only when school would let them breathe enough to find a single day where they were both free from studying. Which was yet to be a thing.

The beloved actor handed him one of the binders, it read the title of the play, the author and the characters. He didn’t like how his role was the very first one on the list.

« At last. » he dryly commented, flipping the pages quick enough to not read a single actual word out of it.

Roman sat down next to him and examined the first page, as if looking for some kind of unspoken treasure, then he turned to take out a stash of highlighters Virgil had no clue where he kept. He showed them to him, waiting for him to pick a color.

By the looks of them, they seemed brand new and neatly arranged in the colors of the rainbow. Virgil picked out the lilac one, he had always preferred the gentler colors, it made it easier to study with the lights on.

His colleague chose the red one and began going through the pages and highlighting all the lines he had to learn as Pentheus.

Silently, Virgil did the same with the lines Dionysus said, recalling the scenes as he went through them. Though … he noticed there were far too many. He never realized how impossible it looked in his eyes until he had it plainly laid out in front of him.

Great, you’re going to mess this up, you won’t ever be able to do this in time. Plus you’re probably going to forget everything the moment right before going on stage. Who thought this was going to be a good id-

« Are you okay down there? »

He didn’t realize he was rubbing at his face with his hands, while trying to shake off the storm forming in his mind. In doing so, he had also let the marker fall to the wooden step with a clatter, which caught the other’s attention.

« Yeah, ’m just tired. » he managed to let out through his fingers in a muffled sound.

Roman made a humming noise, then proceeded to cast aside all his stuff and let himself relax against the wall. « Then I’d say we call it a day and sleep until it’s time to part ways. »

Virgil looked at him, surprise written all over his face, wasn’t he supposed to work even harder than normal because of the occasion? Either way, he mirrored the boy, pulling up his hood so that he could find some comfort.

« I think I’m too worried about all this mess, » he retorted, gesturing at his script. « to be able to even close my eyes. »

« Then tell me about it. »

He considered the option, he did actually promise him he’d do it before, besides he’d be distracting himself from the impending doom, be actually productive and explaining the tragedy to the actor. A double win for both parties.

« The story is centered around this group of Bacchantes that came from Asia and want to enter Thebes and spread their cult, they’re also guided by a lone nomad that none knows is actually Dionysus, the founder of the cult itself. » he turned to face Roman, in a silent “tell me where I lose you” manner.

« They are stopped by Pentheus, now king of the city, son of Agave and nephew of Cadmus, the founder of Thebes. Tiresias is a famous seer that understands the potential of the cult and invites Cadmus to preach the god with him. They try to reason with Pentheus, but it’s all in vain. In the meantime, while this king is busy insulting the cult, Dionysus makes all the women of the city go mad and follow the Maenads. »

« Payback? »

« More like first warning. » Virgil counted to one on his right hand for emphasis. « After that, Pentheus sent his soldiers to capture him. And they succeeded, he didn’t resist and kept up his act, only to free himself of the chains thanks to his magic. When Pentheus found him, Dionysus pretended he was helped by the god and began charming him until the king gave in. »

« You mean, how he made him dress up as a Maenad? »

« Yes, but not only he did that, he drove him crazy, too. » did anyone else ever notice the slight green spots in Roman’s brown eyes or was it just the trick of the light? Virgil couldn’t tell, so he decided to explain further. « Pentheus claimed to be seeing double and having hallucinations. He was also very careful of his clothes, hair and posture, he wanted to be the perfect Maenad. He tried to convince himself it was for disguise purposes, but in my opinion he was rather enjoying that dress-up. »

« Really? » Roman questioned, he still had to look into his character, the more he knew about him, the better he could portray him. He always took every bit of information he could find, to the point in which he could somehow relate to them or at least be able to link him and the role. That way, he was able to love acting as every single one of them.

« You need to read their last conversation. Even you would say that at first glance. Anyway, the play ends with the Bacchantes shredding to pieces the body of Pentheus. The practice is called “sparagmòs”. After that Agave and Cadmus have a touching scene and it ends there. A bit shocking for her since she just killed her son, but the god made sure the women all saw a beast instead. »

« That’s cruel, though. »

« Princey, he disrespected a fucking god, dying is the least that could happen to him. »

There was the nickname again. And, as if on cue, Roman’s lips twitched into a small smile that disappeared right after. He wasn’t aware of the reason why he didn’t want to get caught, but … did Virgil really not remember?

« He didn’t give him a chance to apologize! »

« Then again, the cult of the Bacchantes includes a ritual where a human needs to be sacrificed. If he had ever been sorry, Dionysus would have probably ordered him to sacrifice himself so that he could be satisfied and purified by his action. »

« Okay, okay. » Roman put his hands up in surrender. « I recognize I’m talking to a smart one over here, I give up. » he pretended he was waving a white flag to his side.

Virgil chuckled at his words. « I’m actually just average, but I can be passionate about some things, too. »

« Just average? I doubt all of your classmates still remember the entire plot of a tragedy and also can provide conspiracy theories. »

« Conspiracy- what are you talking about? »

« You know I’m right, you were totally on the verge of geeking out about this one. C'mon who’s your favorite character? » the actor mocked resting his face on his palms while a sly expression surrounded him.

« I will throw you off the stairs the next chance I have. »

« Good luck with that since you can’t even reach. »

Oh that was the last fucking straw.

Virgil turned his head to look at him in the eyes so rapidly that Roman feared his neck would give in and break right then and there. But the most disturbing image was the rage that was forming around the boy’s aura.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t the wisest thing to-

Virgil surged forward in a sudden movement and the actor jumped away pleading for salvation, it was only when he heard a foreign laugh that he turned around only to be met with the same dark and stormy guy, doubled over himself with laughter, teasing Roman.

« Did you seriously think I was going to attack you? »

« You can be scary sometimes, shut up! » heat began running in Roman’s cheeks out of embarrassment and he pretended nothing happened while Virgil quieted down next to him.

It was exactly in that moment that the meeting was called off.

As Roman followed him to the library, he wondered if that was going to be a regular thing after-

You idiot, this is the last week of your project.

« Oh, by the way. » Virgil stopped at the top of the stairs. « Don’t take it personally if I brush you off or disappear for the next few days, but the exhibition’s coming and I still have no idea what to say. »

« Talking about efficiency. » the actor rolled his eyes, recalling a few other examples he could give on the marvelous organization of teachers.

« Yeah, our teacher gave us tons of useful information. » he dead-panned, approaching the library’s doors.

« I will forever respect you for putting up with Mr. Richardson. »

That was able to get a chuckle out of Virgil.

« See you around, Pentheus. »

And with that, Roman was left walking home by himself with the warm feeling of having made a new possible friend spreading in his chest.

✾✾✾✾

It was Saturday morning when he noticed the fliers hanging around school. They showed a bunch of excavation pics and the subject of an archaeological exhibition centered around the school’s town. Roman took note of the date: it was exactly that same day!

So that was how he found himself during afternoon pacing around the plaza and stepping into an old tower, where a little crowd of at least fifteen people of all ages were standing and listening attentively to a student. There was only a little group of them, which he figured was because the exhibition took place multiple times during the week.

He just wondered if he had been lucky enough to find …

As he made his way through the front, so that he could see all the materials and boards exposed he heard the female voice say « Now I will turn it over to my classmate, Virgil! »

As soon as he heard his name, he followed her gaze and finally met an unusual sight: instead of the usual hoodie, he wore a black button up shirt and skinny dark blue jeans that might as well have been mistaken for the same other color. So he did know how to be fancy if he wanted.

Before he began explaining, he noticed Roman standing right next to their theater teachers and bit back a smile. He didn’t recall inviting him, actually he hadn’t wanted anyone he knew to witness him mess everything up as he was used to do. So what was he doing there?

Virgil welcomed everybody once again, then turned over to all the materials exposed.

And when he started talking, Roman was enthralled.

He didn’t know if it was the way the words rolled down his tongue, how he brushed the objects as if they were sacred treasures that would turn into dust at the slightest touch, or the sparkle in his eyes when he took in everybody’s attention and curiosity.

But there was a thing he did recognize: it was passion, that was definitely what he was radiating, the one emotion he knew all too well which helped him getting his public hanging at the edge of their seats.

And this time, he was the hooked one.

The two locked eyes multiple times, Virgil was surprised enough to find comfort in having someone to constantly smile at him, or in Mrs. Eagan’s nodding, in all those mouthed “you’re doing great”. He couldn’t stop going back at them everytime he looked up.

Before anyone knew it, his time was over and the group moved onto the last part of the exhibition, which was outside; the crowd followed the last student to the site that was still open and the remaining students in the room sighed with relief as Mr. Richardson followed them too for the final thanks.

Some minutes and a standing ovation later, Roman was already back into the small room as bright as ever, walking toward his favorite little archaeologist.

Virgil paced towards him at the same time, hissing a “what are you doing here?” while a small grin let itself spread on his face.

With no warning and an abrupt move, Roman’s arms had already wrapped themselves around the other boy’s upper chest, lifting him a little in the process.

Well, that was definitely new.

Not being used to such excitement, Virgil was only able to awkwardly return the hug after an initial moment of vacillation. Seeing his energy on stage was a thing, experiencing it like that was completely something else, but deep in his heart he knew it wasn’t a habit he wouldn’t have liked to adapt to.

Wait, what was that thought coming from? Why would he have to adapt to anything, he was just going to help him through acting and that was it.

Still, a new friend wasn’t a bad idea either …

« You did amazing! » was what Virgil heard after being released from the embrace, but not quite completely as Roman was still holding onto his arms.

He blinked a few times. « What are you talking about, I messed up and started stuttering at one point- »

« Oh shut up and let me compliment you, I didn’t even remember you did, king of modesty. »

« More like king of self-deprecation. »

« Can you stop for once in your life? »

Right in the short amount of time they weren’t talking, a single line caught their attention.

« Look at all this trash. »

What?

« Yeah, these are all so obviously fake. »

Thunderstorms.

Thunderstorms and lightning, howls of rage formed in Virgil’s chest, burning in a bonfire which heat traveled through his blood and reached his eyes only to darken them with fury.

His body stiffened, he wanted to scowl at them and tell them how wrong they were, just how dare them invalidate all the hard work of three weeks?

« Oh, Virgil! » Roman seemed to distract him, but he had a plan in mind as he moved both of them close to the materials table. « Remember that day I visited you while you guys were digging? »

But there wasn’t any- was he onto something? « Oh, yeah, you were walking home from school and you decided to stop. » he played along, as his friend nodded, making sure to be heard by the rude couple.

In the meantime, one of the students had gone out to update their teacher on the situation.

« Yeah, when you found that beautiful ceramic piece! » Roman turned to recognize the piece he had seen in the pic he had been shown, then pointed it. « Is it that one? »

« Yes, I can pick it up for you. » Virgil did so as he spoke.

« Wow, it’s even more gorgeous. »

« We had a hard time cleaning everything, so we tried to do the best job we could. Getting dirt out of bones is also … not super easy. »

« You guys are awesome. » Roman kept glancing around the room arranged for the exhibition, while the now embarrassed couple decided to leave under the incinerating stare of Mr. Richardson who had just came in to witness the situation.

Everybody in the room went to either grin or laugh inside, while the two boys shared a high five.

After making sure everything was under control, the teacher decided to begin cleaning up the place, so all the guests that stayed to chatter were dismissed.

« Hey, uh … » Virgil struggled to get out his voice, a little for being tired, a little because in moments of shyness his tone would go out as nothing more than a simple mutter. « Thank you for earlier and … also for coming, I guess. »

« Both of them were my utter pleasure. » Roman had a thing for being extra, and if he chose that aesthetic, he better had to stick to it by doing a theatrical bow at his friend.

« You are a nerd. »

« With style! »

« Whatever helps you sleep at night. » Virgil turned around to face the tower and began walking away. « See you around, Princey. »

There went another one.

Roman had to giggle quietly to himself, every single time his mind traveled to that one particular moment back in the first year when-

« You know, this is what I was talking about. »

He felt a presence walking by his side, suddenly, and found Mr. Eagan glaring at him with an almost nostalgic look.

« I’ve been telling him for years that he has the acting potential. » she sighed while Roman simply nodded along. « He’s been getting better, you see this isn’t the first exhibition they do, I’ve seen them all. »

« Oh, really? »

« Yes. And you can totally sense how much emotion he’s putting, you can tell he’s invested. »

« I agree, I’ve had the occasion to see that. »

« And honestly I feel bad for forcing him into this play thing … but I’m sure he’s going to shine. I’m so proud of him. » she smiled at herself, then stopped in her tracks and looked up at her student. « And I’m also sure you’ll do a good job. Bring out his talent, Roman. In your own special way. »

He remained speechless for a moment, just how much trust did these teachers actually have in both of them? He found it endearing, he felt almost as if they had some kind of motherly appreciation towards them.

« Thank you. We’ll work very hard on this one, you’ll see! »

They exchanged their farewells and Roman headed home, this time by himself, having all kinds of thoughts in his mind.

But most of all, he felt worried.

All of a sudden, it seemed like a blank page was being replaced in his head instead of all the knowledge apprehended through his life.

He had no idea how to start helping Virgil.

✾✾✾✾

Despite the initial awkwardness, things had begun to go way better than both of them had imagined. The occasional staying late after the theater meetings had allowed them to grow closer, so much that they at least shared a few words during break every day at school. And that was a huge effort for Virgil as he preferred to stay in class where almost none hanged around and simply scroll through his phone, waiting for the last two dreadful hours of lessons.

And, well, random texts weren’t late to arrive to the party, too.

Princey: okay but can we talk about what an idiot Pentheus is?

Vee: this is a weird midnight text to get, but go off I guess

Princey: I’m serious! Come on, like why don’t you just let people do their thingsss

Vee: Oh you’re taking this to heart, alright

Princey: Yeah?? Am I not supposed to be emotionally invested in my own play?

Vee: You’re talking as if you’ve written it

Princey: Maybe I did

Vee: gasp are you Euripides reincarnated

Princey: The one and only

Vee: My apologies sir, you have all the rights to whine about your own plot

Vee: I also have no clue how you know english

Princey: It’s the muses’ power!

Vee: Melpomene?

Princey: Bless you

Vee: Wow okay, go to sleep

Princey: Sleep is for the weak

Vee: And you’re gonna be weak in the morning so it really doesn’t matter

Princey: Alright, mum, why would you stay up then?

Vee: Reasons

Princey: Are you still scrolling through Tumblr and sticking to your natural emo kid persona?

Vee: ouch

Vee: no, but I’d love to

Princey: mhh then you forgot to do homework or study?

Vee: You know me, I’m too anxious about my parents’ judgment to do that

Princey: demanding parents?

Vee: sorta.

Princey: sore topic?

Vee: Yup.

Princey: Alright then, you’re watching a movie? An anime?

Vee: No, I’m just talking to an idiot who won’t go to sleep

Princey: Oh I see, sounds like a total badass guy fighting the system

Vee: Yeah, fighting his body’s shut down system if he doesn’t get enough sleep.

Princey: bold of you to say that when we’re in the same situation

Vee: listen we’re talking about you stay focused

Princey: you know I’m right

Princey: C'mon why are you still up

Vee: no reason tbh

Vee: I just can’t seem to fall asleep so I’m tyring myself out until I can pass out on my bed

Princey: thaaat doesn’t seem very healthy

Vee: I never said I wanted to take care of myself

Princey: LOVE YOURSELF BITCH

Vee: HAH

Vee: no.

Princey: i will make you!!

Princey: one day we’ll have a big relaxation day and you will be able to see the beauty in yourself!!

Vee: sounds unrealistic i’m in

Princey: come on work with me emo nightmare

Vee: i’m too lazy to live i’m sorry

Princey: then why don’t you just s l e e p

Vee: bc my sleep schedule is a mess and i cant seem to even shut my eyes everything in my life is going straight in the trash can and uhhhhhh yeah everything sucks

Princey: woah slow down

Princey: okay look you’re having me a bit concerned here

Vee: haha no it’s the usual daily stuff for me

Princey: ……….. it shouldn’t be????

Vee: eh

Princey: hey, would you answer if I called you?

Vee: if this is because of what i’ve just said, you’re worrying too much

Princey: nah it’s just for a distraction

Princey: and maybe you’ll be able to fall asleep

Vee: are you implying your voice is boring or you want to sing me a lullaby?

Princey: i’ll pretend i didn’t read the first part but i’ll have you know i have a very beautiful singing voice

Vee: pf alright i’m not entirely convinced

Princey: i’ll buy both of us coffee at the vending machine tomorrow morning before the first lesson starts

Vee: okay i’m sold, hit me up

✾✾✾✾

« This is unacceptable! I’m sorry, our friendship has to end here, I’m leaving. »

« I’m telling you, I have my reasons. »

« You can’t just simply dislike Hercules! »

Virgil sighed in defeat and resigned in his plastic seat; Christmas holidays had been around for a week, new year’s was already approaching and two youngsters had decided to spend an afternoon together with the excuse of reading some lines out of their scripts and helping each other out.

It wasn’t really the first time they did that, plus with the arrival of winter it was a nice excuse to be comforted by a warm cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream.

Just like they were doing in that moment, only that it seemed that they had completely forgotten about the play because of how much they were invested in other topics. Such as, obviously, Disney movies.

« It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just … so wrong. »

« Oh my- it’s not Percy Jackson, it’s Disney, they’re allowed to take some creative liberties. »

« I know, but I didn’t watch it as a child, I saw it recently- »

« How dare you. »

« -shut up. What I mean is: my studies have ruined its likability. »

Roman closed his eyes and put his hands together in front of his face in an exasperated manner. « Then let’s hear these freaking reasons, enlighten my blindness, o wise one! »

Virgil couldn’t help but smirk as the other one huffed. « First of all, thank you for the compliment. »

« But, see, the first thing that got me was the character of Phil. The actual Philoctetes wasn’t a satyr, he was a hero that fought in the Trojan war who also happened to be Hercules’ friend at some point. »

« Well, they were linked in the end! »

« Let me finish. All the deeds that Phil claimed to have made? All those heroes he trained? Bullshit. Everything was done by Chiron, the only wise and composed centaur of greek mythology. And like centaurs were thought as savage beasts, satyrs were always linked to Dionysus and described as libidinal creatures. Philoctetes would have probably felt insulted. »

« Your studies may have ruined your view but you’re ruining my childhood right now. » Roman muttered the words as a childish pout formed on his lips.

« Ah, also Megara was a city, not a person. » said Virgil with nonchalance.

« WHAT. » the wide-eyed actor jumped in his seat and surged forward a little, blinking a few times.

Without expecting it, Virgil’s composed face contorted with a snort, which then grew into giggles and then again transformed into a genuine and amused laughter that couldn’t stop.

He tried to breathe in. « Princey, you- » he cut himself off as another wave of giggles hit him, so he held one hand up as if to tell him to wait until he could properly compose himself.

And Roman knew he otherwise would have felt offended, or at least in a playful way, he knew normally he would have instantly asked what was the matter. But he couldn’t really shake off the feeling of wanting to protect and carve this picture into his memory until it was the only thing he could remember.

And he truly wanted to share that angelic laughter, participate to the mirthful moment, yet he found himself solely staring at the unusual sight in pleasant disbelief at how stunning that scene was.

He could merely twitch his lips upwards and consider how much he adored hearing the nickname in such an entertained voice.

Something inside Roman clicked as Virgil finally gained enough breath, and he knew he was done for.

« Sorry, uh, » he was finally able to breathe out. « I was actually messing with you. She did exist. »

He looked him in the eyes and all Roman could think was “finally”.

After a beat, noticing the other didn’t respond and assuming he was upset or something, he continued. « Though she and their children were afterwards killed by Hercules according to some. Others think he killed his children and Megara compelled him to commit suicide. Awful stories for great heroes, I guess. »

Roman, who was still starstruck, was only able to comment. « Breathtaking. »

Virgil made a face and lowered the cup he was raising to his lips. « What? »

« Uh … what? No I was just- the TV! Behind you, yes. I was commenting that. »

The confused one turned ever so slightly to quickly glance at the old black screen facing his back. « Alright, I won’t question your weird obsession with old style televisions. »

Nailed it.

Their discourse went on escalating to different topics, but never once brushing the fact that they met to keep up their theater practice, like good procrastinating students. It wasn’t like they were avoiding it on purpose, for the first time they felt like spending quality time with each other was their main priority.

« Okay, listen, Tripping in the Darkness. I went on a cruise once and even there I was able to reveal my beautiful voice. »

« So sorry for the passengers. »

« I should have left you outside freezing in the cold. » Roman scoffed after a beat.

« But you didn’t. »

« I’m starting to reconsider. »

« We both know you would never do it. »

« I forgive you only because you’re cute. » oh wait, oh wha- Roman immediately hid behind his cup, drinking the last remaining of his warm beverage. He hoped that the heat would rush off of his cheeks by the time he had finished.

« Wow, I’m flattered. » Virgil didn’t leave his sarcastic tone and didn’t seem to have noticed anything different, until he snorted out loud when he was met with Roman’s face after he lowered the cup.

Roman’s heart sank, was he still blushing? Was he already onto him? That was bad, that was-

« You got … » Virgil’s voice got back to being amused and he gestured towards his face. Oh, great, he had a chocolate-stained face now. Just what he needed.

« Where? Is it gone? » he frantically kept on asking as he wiped around his mouth and cheeks with his bare hand.

His friend shook his head. « Not even close. »

On a scale on one to Roman’s worst embarrassing moments compilation, he would have probably found himself on top of that very ranking, because after that Virgil simply reached for the container on the little table.

« For starters, you take a tissue. » while he did so, Roman could only watch as his friend gently rubbed away the spot on the bridge of his nose. Oh. The cup did touch it earlier.

Alright that was awkward and I’m stupid, let’s move on.

But no, his brain had decided to short circuit and leave him to his impulsiveness; out of the blue, he grabbed Virgil’s wrist before he pulled away completely.

Virgil blinked, confused once again by his behavior. « Uh, what’s up? »

That’s when Roman’s mind finally snapped to reality and, of course, he panicked to find the best excuse he could permit, so he slid both of his hands to cage Virgil’s own. « You’re super cold! » he noticed, lowering their hands to rest on the table.

« Yeah? It’s minus degrees outside? And I’m often anxious? »

« Oh, right. » why was he feeling more sympathetic than usual? « Then, I shall protect you from both! »

« By holding my hand? »

« By making sure your heat level is within the parameters! »

« Alright, Doc. I’ll trust you. »

That was how they ended up holding hands for the rest of the day without even realizing until they had to part.

« You sure you don’t want me to accompany you to the parking lot? »

« I’m fine, don’t mind. »

They were standing out of the cafe to exchange their goodbyes, about to head for different streets and eventually go home.

« You know, you didn’t really have to pay for me, I’m not broke. » Virgil talked in little puffs of condensed air, hands in his pockets and trying to shake off the cold stinging sensation that pierced his skin.

« Oh, soft you now, »

« Is that a fucking Hamlet quote? »

« -it is my duty to ensure your well-being. Plus I know you hate talking to cashiers, so. »

« You’re the worst, but thank you. » Virgil rolled his eyes. « I still feel like I owe you one now, though. »

Well you could just kiss me whenever you feel like, a part of Roman’s brain noted. Uhm, what the fuck is your problem? Responded the other.

« Nah, I’ll probably forget it by the next time we talk. » he admitted, ignoring the weird thoughts that were happening in his mind, a mind that needed to shut up for at least a single second.

Virgil muttered an “alright” and was about to turn around and wave him off, like he always did, when he was confronted by a simple demand.

« Uh, can I, like, hug you? »

He stopped in his tracks, considering for a moment, before a “sure” escaped his lips and he started nodding.

Roman stepped closer and wrapped his arms around his chest, content and making a little pleased sound as the other returned the hug. He wasn’t sure why he was being so uncertain that day.

« Bye, Virge! » he called out as he stepped away from his friend and began walking home.

Virgil waved in return and immediately took out his phone and earbuds: after hitting shuffle he was fast to recognize the song by the first chords.

Acceptance, huh? He had discovered their song back in middle school. Boy, did he try so hard to be edgy. Still, certain songs weren’t really that bad.

Oh no, this couldn’t be more unexpected.

He had just made to turn the corner of a mansion’s fence when a realization struck him. And he was still subtly smiling because of it.

He somehow hadn’t been aware of it in the moment, probably because of their distracting conversation.

The lyrics went by in his ears and he almost didn’t even notice the words flowing in his head as that little memory of their afternoon occupied his mind.

Could this be out of line? To say you’re the only one breaking me down like this.

Roman had been brushing his thumb against his skin for almost all the time he had been holding onto his hand earlier.

He also had hugged him a little bit tighter than how he remembered back in October. And he was very excited too, that day.

And yeah, the majority of sane people would have found the situation simply nice or just a normal friendly action. But Virgil?

Come to think of it, I’m aching.

Yeah, he was already burying his face in his hoodie. God, was that heat rushing at his cheeks? Did his body really want to make it any more obvious?

On account of my transgression, will you welcome this confession?

Oh god, oh fu-

Virgil exhaled deeply and rubbed at his face with his hands, an unwelcome warm feeling spreading in his chest, it felt like as if someone was lighting a fire in there, not caring for the emotional damage that they were about to cause. Like a firework sent up in the middle of the night only to startle you enough to wake you up in a cold sweat and thumping heart.

Keep me hanging on so contagiously.

Virgil abruptly ripped the earbuds away from his ears and stuffed everything in his pockets as he leaned on his school’s gate, staring at the parking lot in front of him. His parents had yet to arrive to pick him up.

He had enough time to calm down.

« Well, I’m fucked. »

Maybe.

✾✾✾✾

Princey: HAPPY NEW YEAR V!!

Vee: yeee here’s to another shitty one

Princey: AW COME ON try to be a bit more upbeat

Vee: YEEE HERE’S TO ANOTHER SHITTY ONE!!!!

Princey: THAT’S MORE LIKE IT COMRADE

Vee: wtf okay

Princey sent a pic

Vee: are those streamers in your hair?

Vee: and … glitter?

Princey: don’t question it it’s your turn now send me something

Vee: i don’t think that’s how it works

Princey: do iiiiiit scaredy cat

Vee: fine

Vee sent a pic

Princey: .. wait

Princey: Are you in bed?

Vee: On the couch, actually

Vee: if that’s what you’re asking yes, i’m at home

Princey: and you’re not having fun? Are you okay??

Vee: yes don’t worry

Vee: i’m by myself

Princey: WHAT

Vee: gee it’s not that weird

Princey: no it’s just i thought you were out with friends

Vee: were all busy

Vee: but it’s fine, i don’t really appreciate big and loud parties

Vee: and i jump at every single loud noise so fireworks are a big no for me

Princey: you should have told me!! i would have managed something, we could have even just chilled alone

Vee: no it’s fine really, thank you

Vee: sorry to bring you down with that

Princey: oh shush

Princey: can i call you?

Vee: that’s sweet and all but i’d feel like i’m bothering you so

Princey: what are you talking about, plus there are so many people here they won’t even realize i’m gone for a while

Vee: i don’t wanna waste your time, it’s ok

Princey: but you’re not doing that!

Princey: idk can I at least visit you for some time? I don’t want you being all alone like that

Vee: no

Vee: i mean not that i don’t want you here but i’d feel guilty, i told you

Princey: you don’t have to!!

Princey: i lo kdjsdsdjk

Vee: what-

Princey: look i care about you, you’re one of my closest friends already and i love spending time with you, so if there’s a way for me to cheer you up i will gladly accept it

Vee: that is …

Vee: the gayest thing i’ve ever read

Vee: you’re a dork

Princey: i will take all that as a compliment

Vee: okay let me just

Vee: get my dog off of me

Princey: ADORABLE DOG

Vee: yeah i love her

Vee: and afterwards you can call me alright

Princey: SCORE!!

Princey: okay

Vee: one thing though

Princey: mirror mirror on the wall what’s the question botherin y'all

Vee: … i’ll pretend i’ve never read that

Vee: are you still getting me coffee tomorrow morning like that one time

Princey: if this is a subtle “do you wanna hang out here” i’m all for it, tho expect me to come up at like 11

Vee: wow you know exactly how to make things awkward everytime

Vee: okay dog’s off, you can call

Princey: on it!

✾✾✾✾

It is widely known and said that time flies by quickly when you’re either having fun, doing nothing or during the holidays. Students had reluctantly returned to their daily routines of lessons, homework and studying, trying to frame everything in the best way, so that they had at least some time to breathe between their tasks.

January, sadly, meant that the end of the first term was approaching inexorably and the teachers suddenly realized they needed more marks than they actually had from every student in a matter of two weeks. Everything for the initial report cards that, in the end, didn’t matter at all compared to the final one.

Thanks to February, students would have some time to breathe and re-gain strength until March, which was another wave of tests in preparation for the real monster: May.

For the last years, though, February also meant that they were going to get more information about which subjects they had to focus on the most for their final exams, which could only be linked to chaos, panic and that anxious but subtle feeling that the big moment was coming.

Thankfully, the weekend existed and with it also places for poor unfortunate souls to release stress and distract themselves from the imminent danger.

And that is how we follow two fellow individuals in distress who had decided upon spending their first free time in weeks walking around town and having a nice chat during night. At least before they ended up in a little desolated playground, their scripts in front of their faces, definitely acting more dramatically than needed.

« Do you perform the rites by night or by day? » Roman leaned on one of the street lamps, permitting him to read his line and, at the same time, he widely gestured with his free hand.

« Mostly by night; darkness conveys awe. » Virgil emphasized his second line with such an ominous tone that made his friend giggle lightly.

« Oh my, I’m thrilled. »

« Okay but you’ve got to admit it’s actually a cool phrase to say. »

« Maybe if we were serious enough, my darkling. »

After Virgil’s usual “shut up and keep reading” (which he had been using for the past fifteen minutes, mind you), Roman complied. « This is treacherous towards women, and unsound. » his voice sounded almost offended, his hand trailed over his heart in a fist.

Virgil bit back a grin at the sight. « Even during the day someone may devise what is shameful. »

« This vile quibbling settles your punishment. » the taller one took a few steps forward, pointing his finger on his friend, accusatory.

« Your ignorance and impiety toward the god will settle yours. » Virgil snarled, imitating the other in pointing fingers.

Roman gasped way more dramatically than needed and placed a hand on his chest, eyes wide with disbelief. « How bold the Bacchant is, and not unpracticed in speaking! »

His acting partner intook some breath, before stopping, narrow eyed, while he read his words.

« What, is something wrong? » Roman demanded, eyes scanning the next lines before looking up.

« This is so fucking gay. » he admitted, a smile playing on his lips as he contemplated the possibility of a different turn of events in the plot.

« Dionysus and Pentheus, but make it gayer. »

« Than it already is? That’s a challenge. »

« I have something in mind. » Virgil didn’t like the mischievous look on Roman’s face. « Keep going. »

« Tell me what I must suffer; what grievous harm will you do to me? » he hadn’t noticed how fast the other was to reach him, the previous grin was still imprinted on his lips. His pace faltered only a bit, but didn’t stop when he was a few steps from his Dionysus.

« First, I will cut off your delicate curls. » how Roman could change his tone from a mocking one to a warm and clear one, would forever be an unsolved mystery to the world. He proceeded to raise a hand to Virgil’s hair and slowly moved his bangs to the side, a knuckle brushing his cheek afterwards.

« My locks are sacred; I am growing them for the god. » Virgil played along and started to remember the lines, a result of their persistent reading every week. Not that he could really tear off his eyes from the looming figure in front of him.

« Next, give me this thyrsos from your hands. » other steps forward and Roman had trapped him against some metal bars he wasn’t aware of.

« Take it from me yourself; this is the wand of Dionysus I am bearing. » with no warning, Roman pressed his right hand, where the actual thyrsos would have been, to the bars and locked their fingers together. He leaned in even further, making sure Virgil could notice the sly sparkle in his half-lidded eyes.

« Last, I will guard your body deep in the dungeons. » his other hand gripped the bars right next to the boy’s head, literally trapping him. He had to stay in character, after all.

The leaning was slow this time, but didn’t seem to be stopping at any moment and Virgil could swear he felt his body move without his consent.

Inches apart, and Roman’s lips twitched upward. He stopped.

Virgil snorted.

Next thing they knew they were both bursting out laughing like they had just heard the best joke their favorite comedian had ever made.

« That was- » Virgil tried, after they both collapsed to the ground, weak in their knees for too much hilarity. « That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. »

« When Pentheus and Dionysus couldn’t get any gayer. » Roman commented through an almost hysterical laughter, while part of his brain began to shut down in a ohgodwhathasjusthappenediwasabouttobutthenididntandisthisthereallife state. An everyday situation to which he was used to, of course.

« Actually, » his friend began, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. « Greek gods are very open about their sexuality. »

« Oh, yeah. Wasn’t it Zeus himself that tried to f- » Roman was instantly shushed to silence, while a pained expression grew on the other’s face.

« We don’t talk about him. »

Fair enough. They had been in comfortable silence for quite a while, sitting on the ground and enjoying the void of the night as the only sources of light showed them only certain features and details of the objects around them.

« Hey, Virge? »

The mentioned boy almost jumped at the sudden sound. « Yeah? »

Roman’s expression, fixated on something ahead of him, was somewhat between focused and in a daze.

« Did you know the teachers wanted to keep your hair growing for the play? »

« What. »

« They decided against it when they realized I actually had to cut them away during the show. »

« Why are you telling me this right now? »

« I was just thinking about … » Roman’s words lingered, as if he thought about whether or not he could disclose a secret.

About me, please say about me. Virgil shook off the bizarre thought while he waited for a response. Are you fucking kidding me? Part of his mind answered. Didn’t all those past experiences teach you anything? Virgil found it harder to concentrate on Roman’s words now, he creased his eyebrows as if he were having a headache.

Those were in elementary school and middle school, you idiot. The other side responded. They were still valid experiences!

« Ohi. » Roman waved his hand in front of the other’s face. « Are you on this planet, sir? »

« Sadly, I still am. »

Roman rolled his eyes at that. « Dang, here I thought the aliens had gotten you. »

« You wish. »

« Anyway, I was about to get going since it’s getting pretty late even for a Saturday night. » he pulled himself on his feet, then smiled brightly and turned to his friend. « Lift home? »

« Thank god you exist. »

And Roman did really try hard to act cool and all, but he found out he couldn’t prevent his face from turning at least the weakest tint of red.

✾✾✾✾

They didn’t know how it was possible, but they made it through until April.

The last two months were a train wreck of multiple meetings between Roman’s wonderful school trip abroad, additional tests, the first exams simulations, and things getting very serious at theater club. The designs, scenes, props and costumes were all coming along neatly and, with everybody giving their all, the excitement for the play could be felt through thin air. Roman was thrilled and he thought that there wasn’t nothing else that could possibly be better than that kind of feeling.

Virgil begged to differ.

He was standing in the middle of the external part of the front of the school with a couple of other classes of his same course; they all had backpacks on their backs and a luggage held close.

Virgil was almost bouncing, unable to stay still, he started tapping his fingers on the handle of his own luggage. The anticipation was killing him, how could everybody else be so calm and casual? They were about to leave for a trip to Greece!

It was the most wanted and awaited of school trips for their course, it happened every three years and not only students were given the opportunity to confront and visit places and subjects they had studied, but also thanks to certain lovable teachers the weirdest and funniest things occurred in those trips. It was a dream come true, finally at their fingertips.

He really didn’t want to seem mean, but Virgil couldn’t stop looking at the time on his phone while one of his closest classmates trailed off talking about how energetic they felt for the trip ahead.

Until …

« Wine god! » what the f-

Virgil and his friend looked up simultaneously to be met with the vision of Roman waving one arm from the top of the external stairs and afterwards quickly running down towards them.

« I didn’t see you anywhere this morning! » he was still half-running when he spoke those words, as he reached them. He put his hands on Virgil’s shoulders.

« We didn’t really leave until now, we had a test. »

His eyes widened « What the heck? Right before a trip? »

Virgil shrugged. They had chosen it was better to do it before than afterwards.

« Well, anyway, I wanted to properly say goodbye and wish you a good travel! »

« Thank you, buddy. You really didn’t have to, aren’t you having a lesson right now? » Virgil raised one eyebrow, uncertain.

Roman showed him one of his stupidly charming grins and put his hands on his hips. « I simply asked to go to the bathroom. »

« I hate to break it to you, Roman, but this isn’t exactly the right way. »

« Oh, shut up. You know I wanted to see you before you headed off for the seven seas! »

« We’re literally traveling through the same sea, what are you tal- »

« It’s been a long day, let me have this. »

Virgil tilted his head to the side, they had been in school for only three hours, what exactly did that make it a long day?

His thoughts were broken by the thundering of one of his teachers who announced that everybody had to get ready since they were going to leave in a matter of minutes.

« Alright then. » Roman murmured with a slightly sad sigh, he quickly replaced his defeated expression with a smile, careful not to be discovered. « I’ll have to leave now. »

C'mon say something. His heart begged for mercy as Virgil looked back up at him and he saw two bright gray irises, the sun’s rays hitting them from the side just enough to make them look like literal crystals.

Anything would do, take your chance, tell him!

His eyes fell to the figure right next to them, still standing there and witnessing every one of their interactions. Well, maybe next time.

Roman leaned forwards and wrapped his arms around his friend’s shoulders in a tight embrace that was soon returned a bit more weakly around his waist. He felt like he was holding on him for dear life more than anything.

His hand trailed at the nape of his neck and stroked his hair for some instants, in which Virgil tightened his own hug and laughed silently on his shoulder.

« I’m not leaving forever, you know? The time zone is not even that different. »

« I know but I’ll be lonely! »

« We both know that’s not true. » Virgil released the other and patted his shoulder. « You’ll be fine and you can text me whenever you want when I’m not in the ferry. »

Roman let out a fake annoyed huff, but smiled anyway. « Have a safe trip, Virge. » he backed away, still facing him while waving a hand.

Then he turned to the other boy.

« Keep an eye on him for me, okay? »

« Will do! »

At this, Roman sprinted away towards his class and could only smirk wider when Virgil called him out with a “Oh shut up, Princey.”

Virgil met his friend’s all-knowing look as he turned away from the spot where he saw Roman disappear, not realizing he had a soft expression written over all of his face.

« Why are you- no. Listen, it’s not what you- »

His friend ignored him, dancing around him. « You’re doing flips, read my lips, you’re in love! » he sang, while Virgil buried his face in his hands since for some godforsaken reason when he was embarrassed he tended to have a weird smile on his face that made him completely implausible. He hated that, it only made people tease him even further.

Which was exactly what happened in this situation, even after Virgil had smacked him behind the head lightly and started to get going towards the bus station as their teachers had instructed.

#prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #ts roman #sanders sides roman #ts virgil #sanders sides virgil #sanders sides au #fanfiction #prinxiety fic #sanders sides fic #ts fic #to tend thee is my care #purp's writings

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nadiawrites14 · 5 years ago

Text

voice of gen z

word count: 2784

for english class. tw for school shooting and police brutality mention

AN INTRODUCTION.

“GEN Z is too afraid to ask a waiter for extra ketchup but will bodyslam a cop.”

Dated June 5th, on Twitter. Many of us sit holed up in our rooms, laptops resting in our crossed legs as we scroll through social media, or the blue light of a phone screen on our face as the world around us is sleeping. Many of us are also the ones organizing, the ones leading, the ones fighting. News spreads that in Dallas, Providence, and in many more cities, teenagers were the ones organizing, the ones fighting. Teenagers were the ones turning viral memes into protest signs, organizing protests and sharing methods of resistance through apps like TikTok and Instagram. It echoes the methods of the Hong Kong protestors, using technology to battle their government head-on.

Teenagers who dance along to songs such as Megan Thee Stallion’s “Savage”, as well as teens who live in the world of ‘deep-fried’ memes, whose bizarre absurdity reach ungodly levels of abstractism, are the ones leading in this young revolution. Teenagers are the ones who chant ‘no justice, no peace’ in filled city streets; teenagers are the ones working to create graphics and share information, a new form of armchair activism. K-pop fans fill conservative hashtags with videos of their favorite performers, burying rhetoric and dismissal of the protests with dances and songs. In hours, #BlackLivesMatter trends. It’s hard to believe that these new pioneers and leaders in activism and technology are children who are scared to give class presentations, share Juuls in bathrooms, and find humor in the most strange and ironic of places. While the old term goes that ‘the revolution will not be televised’ in many ways, this growing movement will be televised, publicized, expanded, through its own means and methods.

We are the generation of school shootings.

December 14th, 2012. My mom tells me, as I hobble out from the red doors of my elementary school in Stamford, Connecticut, that something very bad has happened. I don’t understand. Nobody does. I see the faces of startled adults. I don’t remember the rest of that evening, or the day that followed it. Every time I think about Sandy Hook, the senseless school shooting that left 28 dead, I think about the multicolored walls of my school’s hallway, my sneakers on the white linoleum, the fear in my mother’s voice and in her eyes. That day was the first day I began to accept that I was a child in the United States of America in the 21st century. That day, and the brutal and confusing months that followed it, solidified something in my peers and I. Not just in Stamford, or even Connecticut, but within all young American students. The people in power didn’t care that a gunman marched into a wealthy and predominantly white Connecticut neighborhood and slaughtered kindergarteners. Because as I grew older, I saw the patterns, the televisation of suffering and permitted slaughter among my peers, our youngest, our posterity. This was normalized to us, just another school shooting, another period of brief outrage followed by inaction. The slaughter of children, the preventable slaughter of children shouldn’t be normalized. But it was.

February 14th, 2018. A gunman kills 17 students in Florida. As I’m waiting in a doctor’s waiting room with my mother, I lean over and tell her, “On Monday, all my teachers will talk about is school shootings.” I was wrong. School was another silent funeral march, my teachers quiet and solemn as they assigned us our work and progressed with their work. At dinner with my dad, I tell him, “It’ll never change.”

That isn’t entirely true. Leaders are found in teenagers who now walk through haunted hallways with clear backpacks. They are the face of a new movement, a march for our lives. Many are summoned to Washington and elsewhere a month later to organize, to fight. On March 27th, a day meant for students to walkout and protest the preventable slaughter of students, my school barricades the doors.

No legislation is passed. Nothing changes. The resistance lulls and fades, despite a number of school shootings following the tragedy at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. Gen Z is a symbolic Sisyphus, haplessly pushing a boulder of pleas up a mountain of indifference.

II.

Suzanne Collins published the Hunger Games on September 14th, 2008. It finds its way into the hands of teenagers of all shapes and sizes years later, and it has its cult following. Maybe the televised murder of children strikes a chord within the audience of young adults, as does the story of a growing revolution and a coup against a selfish government.

Gen Z gets its hands on theory at a young age, through Wikipedia and the uncensored vastness of the internet that we are handed. We are denoted as the generation born with the phones in our hands, but all I can remember is having a technology class from a young age, where we were measured on our abilities to type and memorize a keyboard. Our ability to cite and surf and stay safe in the face of danger. This wealth of information at our fingertips molds us.

Dystopian fiction is popular among young teens and young adults. Titles like Divergent the Giver, Harry Potter, the Maze Runner, all influence the devouring young readers. We are raised to see atrocity, in a place where atrocity is accessible to us in every way, shape and form. We are exposed and we are no longer innocent as we rise to 6th, 7th, 8th grade. Girls wear makeup for the first time and scream at the sight of bloodstained underwear. Boys become privy to the joy of video games and self-exploration. In this time, the internet truly consumes. There is no more script taught in classrooms, whiteboards have been replaced with Prometheans, and chromebooks are becoming normalcy.

In 7th grade I receive my phone. The niches and underground media I discover shape me. I find acceptance, friends, in places where I had lacked them before. As my classmates begin to enter into weeklong flings that end in Instagrammed tragedy, I take a quiz online to find out if I’m gay. I begin to think for myself, and I find independence and a voice on internet circles.

By the time we are promoted to high school, something has shifted. Something is different. Something’s coming, something good. Gen Z keeps calm and carries on.

III.

Donald Trump is inaugurated on January 20th, 2017, to much outrage, but also to much support. In my town, there is a protest around his building that overlooks much of our city center. It’s peaceful, energetic, and beautiful. A Planned Parenthood sticker is on my bedroom door, and I have accepted that maybe, just maybe, I’m into girls.

In 2018, we are in high school. Little fish in a big pond. I don’t have friends in my grade, but stick closer to my premade friends in the Class of 2021. My teachers are lovely, kind, and supportive, and I shine in this new environment. Politics is a force in my life as I begin to write, and as I begin to form opinions and do research.

It’s easy to say that all of Gen Z is progressive, but this isn’t true. It’s actually very incorrect. The internet is a miraculous tool, one that can provide and produce and create new forms of communication and spread new ideas. But it is still an ocean that is widely uncharted, and young teenagers will fall into holes constructed by right-wing superstars. The racism and homophobia circulated by 4chan is on the internet for anybody to see. New popular figures and icons pledge their vote to Trump. Right-wing rhetoric overtakes in the forms of Ben Shapiro, Pewdiepie, 4chan, Reddit. There’s a neutrality to all things, but the dogwhistles and the normalization of prejudice are dangerously overbearing. As the 2016 election divided our country, it divides the new generation. A divided house cannot stand, and that is for certain.

It is around this time, in my Freshman summer, where the politics makes a crescendo. I have broken 1K followers on my Instagram art account, where I draw fanart for a variety of musicals and plays. I discover Shakespeare, and lose myself in Hamlet. I am happy with my identity and with myself, and as the 2020 election nears, I stay informed on current events, common issues, the things that need changing.

Sophomore winter. My dad and I take two-hour drives spanning Connecticut, and we talk. He says, “You know, your generation’s fucked. You’re the ones who are going to have to cope with our mistakes.” I tell him I know. I tell him about my feelings towards racial injustice in America, the battle for a higher minimum wage against growing costs, issues in healthcare, housing, poverty, climate change, all thrown aside and discarded. Our generation, of course, when most of our white and male politicians are dead and buried, will have to deal with the repercussions of rising sea levels and global temperatures, volatile weather and crippling natural disasters, all overlooked due to blatant ignorance. “You guys are going to have to fix all of this.”

“I know.”

I’m sick of the battle being placed on the backs of teenagers. I’m sick of our faces being the fight for climate change, the faces of Greta Thunberg and Emma Gonzalez and young revolutionary congresswomen being mocked and heckled by throngs of keyboard warriors. I’m sick of the battle our leaders and representatives should be fighting being placed on our backs, when we are already our own Atlas. Ignorance is dangerous, biting, and overwhelming. We look back to the images and words we were raised upon, the story of the Hunger Games and the broadcasting of school shootings for us all to see.

It is 2020. Happy new year! I watch from my living room as the ball drops. A brief Twitter moment about a newly discovered disease pops up in my recommended, I brush over it. Photographs of Australian fires are surfaced, and we joke about what a fantastic start it is to the year.

Sisyphus reaches a fork in the road.

MMXX.

At around 11PM on Wednesday, March 11th, I send a strongly worded letter to the principal and local superintendent. The coronavirus has picked up worldwide, and has made its way into the states. Johns Hopkins has an interactive map that shows bubbles above cities where cases have been reported. Stamford, Connecticut Dead: 0

Recovered: 0 Active: 3.

New York’s cases are on the rise. On that same day, I began to realize the severity that would soon overtake us. I spent the afternoon first at what would be our last rehearsal for our school musical, James and the Giant Peach, and then I went to the library. I did my homework, read The Cripple of Inishmaan by Martin McDonagh, then bought a Subway cookie from the mall. I always keep a copy of King Lear in my backpack, and as my dad pulls up to the sidewalk I gloss over Edmund’s first monologue.

It’s the last normal day for a while.

March 12th comes in like a lion. In my first period class, civics, a classmate yells out, “Trump 2020!” A period later, my friend pulls me aside in the hallways, and asks if I heard that school was closing.

“It can’t be true,” I said.

“Schadlich just showed us.”

I take my route to my next class, and find the hallway a chaotic mess of energy and camaraderie. What was meant to be kept under wraps has been instantly transferred across the student body over Snapchat stories and texts. People dance, sing, hug. It’s branded as a “Coronacation.” Broadway announces its closure, and I walk out of the front doors for the final time in my sophomore year.

Once again, ignorance overtakes. Within months, the death toll skyrockets, spikes, as we stay holed up in our online classes. My focus wavers, but I press on. Many other students resort to simply neglecting their work, choosing to take this time to focus on their own health or fill up their new time with their own hobbies. Teenagers find solace in each other, through social media and through the connections we’ve built online. As ignorance mounts among our leaders, teenagers jokingly refer to Covid-19 as the famous “Boomer Remover”. It trends on Twitter. Graduation, prom, is cancelled. The generation whose childhood began with 9/11 is once again cut short by a tragedy of preventable errors. Gen Z is subject to adapting once again to an unfamiliar environment, and we undertake.

Protests take over the streets, screaming against government tyranny. The deaths crescendo to nearly 100,000. A video surfaces of a young black man, Ahmaud Aubery, being publicly killed on a road while jogging. Ignorance continues as cases spike, and the political climate is ripe for change. On May 25th, a black man from Minneapolis named George Floyd is killed in a brutal act of suffocation by a policeman. More names resurface -- Breonna Taylor, Tony McDade, Joao Pedro. Names neglected to injustice are once again in the limelight -- Trayvon Martin, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, Mike Brown, Terence Crutcher, Atatiana Jefferson, and more.

Sisyphus has had enough of pushing the boulder, and Sisyphus takes to the streets. It is the perfect storm. A storm fueled by ignorance and the preventable death of thousands, by decades of injustice, by the mere political climate in the United States of America. Gen Z, our generation, my generation, has lived the darkest hour. We were born at the cusp of a millenia, in an awkward position where society has begun to find its footing in an unfamiliar time. A time of domestic and overseas terrorism, shaped by 9/11 and a countless number of school shootings and slaughtered people of color. Where the new generation has accessibility to the injustice and wrongs committed by those before and those above, right at our fingertips. We have new ways to organize, new ways to televise, new ways to fight. In our armchairs and in our streets, wearing masks as we hold up our hands in surrender.

Generation Z marches. They lead. They throw tear gas back at officers with no hesitation. They create chants, organize through grassroots, and find a chorus of support online.

Generation Z leads. As politicians and leaders sit in ivory towers, like President Snow in Panem, our generation cries for change. We witness and feel the repercussions of their ignorance in our daily lives, from cuts to education to the publication of school shootings to the absence of American atrocity in our history textbooks to a pipeline that directs BIPOC and low-income students to prison or the military as they step off the graduation stage. Each year, our winters get warmer as our summers turn boiling. The preventable pile of corpses rises in front of us, and we have been taught to sit by and let it occur while the world burns.

No longer.

Sisyphus steps aside and allows the boulder to descend down the mountain. They are bruised, bloodied, their palms calloused and scuffed and their feet lacerated and sore. Up ahead, shrouded by clouds, is the mountaintop. Sisyphus wipes their mouth, finds their footing, and begins the march.

A CONCLUSION.

We have a future.

It’s awfully dim right now. Barely a light at the end of the tunnel. We began a dead march towards it from the moment we were born into this decaying way of life, held together with glue and string by leaders with fumbling hands and staunch indifference. Our backs are tired, and we are barely adults. Generation Z is tired of fighting a fight that shouldn’t be theirs. How desperately we still crave childhood joy and humor and innocence.

Change is necessary. It is something that is especially necessary in our time. We can no longer let people die because they can’t afford food or medicine or housing. Students cannot go into school wondering if it will be their last day. Black people should not fear for their lives while wearing a hoodie, driving, jogging in their neighborhood, shopping, or sleeping in their own homes. Elderly white men which encompass most of our political elite can no longer sit on their hands as their population suffers.

The voice of Generation Z screams louder than anything else. It screams in its silence, its activism, its useless martyrdom and battle. Change belies itself within our voice, and it has gone unheard for too long.

Change is the voice of Generation Z.

#writing #writeblr #essay #english #how else do i tag this #my writes #gen z #ashbfkbskdk #i just wanted to put this out into the world for eyes other than my english teacher #xoxo at the 2 ppl who follow my account

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