#successful local drag career and being known as ‘that’ guy with my fics

[psychoticwillgraham]

wait. i’ll be 29 in three weeks. FUCK

[wastelandcrown]

logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents

CHAPTER 1: anybody have a map?

Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?

Warning: Potential ooc behavior, Roman is a theatre brat to the highest degree (Sorry Roman stans)

Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight who very graciously let me use it! I’ve made a couple changes, mostly surrounding Virgil’s involvement and I gave Logan performance anxiety because I thought it would be neat. There will be warnings on the chapters that have potentially triggering talk.

Pairings: Eventual Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, Eventual One-Sided Logicality, Platonic Analogical, Platonic DRLAMP 

Word Count: 2584

There he stands, at the precipice of his own destruction. By all accounts, it is fair to say that Logan is blowing this out of proportion. Wildly. Though he was doing much more than adequately in school, had a fairly stable mental health, and was better than most teenagers in regards to his physical well-being and room upkeep, it apparently wasn’t enough. Don’t misunderstand, his parents were in no way vindictive or cruel. Just...positive. Overtly so. In a way that made Logan cringe. How he, a man of logic and science, was ever made from these two extremely lovey-dovey saps, we will never know. Despite all his successes his parents still encouraged him to partake in activities with his peers. ‘Oh Logan, why don’t you join the school football team?’ ‘Logan, wouldn’t it be nice to make some friends at the local animal shelter?’ ‘Why are you always by yourself? Wouldn’t it be nice to make some friends?’ No, it would not. Not for him. Other people are stupid, especially teenagers. His whole life was planned on the cork board above his desk, and there was nothing important enough to make him deviate from his goal. 

To him, at least. To his parents, his social life being active was figuratively their number one priority. He’s been hoping for a calm dinner with his mother and father, he even enjoyed it most nights. He and his mother would discuss new things going on at the schools they respectively learnt and taught at. His father would discuss his work managing the popular local theatre. Discussing his father’s work tonight was a mistake.

“You know, Logan,” His father begins, and he knows where this is going, “The youth production is going to be starting up again soon.”

His mother smiles, taking his father's hand, “Loganberry, we think it would be good for you to join. You’re in your second year of high school and you don’t even talk to the kids in your class!”

“Mother, please try and understand, I really don’t think it’s necessary for me to find friends. I don’t enjoy having acquaintances, let alone having close personal friends.”

“Logan-” His father starts again but his mother pats his hand, and he quiets. 

She smiles at him and reaches across the table to put a hand on his cheek in a caring motherly gesture. 

“I know you don’t like other kids dear, but...think about it this way! It could be a fun experiment!”

Logan pauses, leaning into his mother’s touch, and nodding to show he’s listening. 

His mother started again, “You can gather data on a lot of different kinds of people, and then find out who you most enjoy hanging out with so that...in your...career…” 

Even though she’s trying, she stumbles, and his father picks up the slack, “So that in your career, you can find the people who you think are easiest to work with and be more efficient that way!” 

He knows what they’re doing. They’re buttering him up with some flimsy science experiment and explaining their position with a strange metaphor. But when both his parents are smiling at him like that...he can’t bring himself to say no to them. When he looks at them like this, he suddenly remembers how similar he looks to each of them. His mother’s dark brown hair, His father’s icy blue eyes, the glasses that sit snugly on both their faces...They smile at him so brightly that he just can’t say no to them. 

“Fine. I will do it, just this once.”

His parents erupt into literal cheers. He finds it a tad too much, but as long as they are happy he supposes he can put up with socialization and scheduling conflicts for a few months. 

That’s how he ended up at the theatre with his father at eight in the morning, on a Sunday in July. If it were his choice, he would be eating Crofter’s by the spoonful and reading some classic literature. Instead, he’s here. His father did get them both coffee, however. So he stands there awkwardly, nursing the cup that’s gone lukewarm, and he starts to feel nauseous. As he follows his father, he can hear the other kids. They’re loud. Too loud. Logan is going to hate this, he already hates this. He’s overthinking a bit, eyes trained to the floor when he accidentally trips. He’s bracing to be smacked in the face by the floor and his coffee when someone taller than him places a hand on his chest and props him back up. 

“Hi there!” Says the smiling man, who is tall with brown hair and brown eyes. He looks very kind and is wearing a Steven Universe t-shirt. 

“I-I apologize for that, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Logan manages to stammer out. Had he been this nervous the whole time? He takes a deep breath and tries to get a grip. 

“Oh, no problem!” The man nods to his dad, “Hey, Edward! This is Logan?”

“Yes, he is! He’s usually a little more focused, though.” Edward nudges Logan with a smirk, and Logan has to nod and concede. He’s right, of course. He is usually more focused. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Logan! I’m Thomas Sanders, I’m the head on the performance department here! Your dad’s been talking you up for weeks, you’re going to fit right in.”

With these words, Logan feels himself flush a little. Leave it to his father to talk him up for no good reason. He had never even been in a performance before! 

“Uhm-Yes. Thank you-” Logan begins and is cut off by a large crash.

Thomas lets out a deep sigh and turns, motioning for Logan to follow. His dad gives him a big smile and a double thumbs-up, Logan gives him a small and tired smile in return. He wishes desperately he had refused his parents the second he enters the auditorium. On stage, an adult in an orange beanie is reprimanding a boy dressed like he just crawled out of the mosh pit of a rave. The boy is laughing maniacally as off to his side, a nearly identical boy in a strangely put together outfit is pouting and crying crocodile tears. Logan makes a note to steer clear of the neon-garbage-rave kid. 

“What did you do now, Remus?” Thomas asks with a sigh, as the kid points off stage and cackles. 

“Remus started this year off by glue-and-feathering Roman’s make-up bag.” The adult in the beanie says, and Logan looks shocked. They’re certainly going to kick this guy out, right? Right!? 

“Remus...Dude…” Thomas grimaces, making his way over to who Logan assumes is Roman and supportively patting his shoulder. 

“What!?” Remus nearly shouts through his laughing, “It was funny!”

“It was not!” Roman cries with such an intense amount of drama. 

This only makes Remus laugh more. 

He’s watching so intently that he doesn’t notice that someone has entered and is standing next to him. 

“Oh, Hello.” He politely mutters, turning to look at the person. He’s shorter than he is, and definitely a lot bouncier. Even at eight am, he looks joyful. His eyes are a lighter blue than his, and his head is a mess of blonde curls. He also has round-ish tortoiseshell glasses. He isn’t unpleasant to look at, aside from the fact that he’s wearing cargo shorts and socks with sandals. 

“Hi! Don’t worry about them, Remus does something like that every year! He likes a-uh...fun start!” The kid starts talking, and even his voice is joyful and bubbly. 

“I’m Patton Foster, it’s nice to meet you!” Patton offers Logan a hand, which he takes and gives a firm shake. 

“Logan Lark. Is it typically this rambunctious, or does it calm over time?” 

Patton looks down, a little sheepish, then offers Logan a smile, “It’s always like this. Sorry!”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll just need to adapt to my circumstances.” As he says this he knows that it is going to be an especially arduous task. 

Pointing to his cup, Patton starts speaking again, “Is your coffee getting cold? We have a microwave backstage if you want me to warm it up for you!” 

The offer is sweet and genuine, so he lets Patton take the cup and run off behind the curtains. If he’s going to be here, he should start on that experiment, so he thinks. Patton seems sweet, potentially too sweet. It may be a ruse, but if his behavior is genuine Logan thinks he might be able to get by in his interactions with him. At least he’ll be able to send him off to do polite tasks if he ever needs to. 

Returning with his coffee reheated, Patton is nearly bouncing on his heels. Throughout the early morning, Patton drags Logan around and Logan realizes the bouncing is just how Patton is. He scoots by as Thomas introduces the staff. The person in the orange beanie, Joan, is the stage manager. Stood quietly beside them is a darkly dressed kid who only acknowledges the audience with a nod, his name is apparently Virgil Storm and he is running lights and sound for the show. Logan wishes desperately he could be up there on that stage. Not because he’s decided he wants to be here, but because he wishes he had known tech was an option. Damn his father for making him act. There are only about twenty kids in the audience, and by the time Thomas is done explaining the rules and conduct, the time is reaching noon. When Thomas announces that the production they will be putting on is called “Hamilton” and is a musical, the others begin to cheer wildly. Now, Logan has no clue what Hamilton sounds like, but he knows it is about the Founding Fathers. Musicals have never interested him, and especially not one about men who owned slaves and were all hoity-toity. He’s heard of it, of course. His father talks about how it revolutionized musical theatre, but Logan has never been interested enough to ask any further questions. As everyone is buzzing, he turns to Patton and taps him on the shoulder. 

“Is that a good thing?” Patton looks a little puzzled and goes to answer before he hears an offended gasp from behind him. 

“A good thing!? Is Lin-Manuel Miranda’s pride and joy, the musical that revolutionized musical theatre, the Emmy Award-Winning show Hamilton any good!?” Roman gawks at him and sputters like he’s never heard something so blasphemous in his life.

“I have no interest in musical theatre, therefore I was asking to gain clarity.” Perhaps saying this is a mistake because there are many gasps from other students, and Logan is pretty sure someone yells ‘Sexy!’

Roman snaps at him loudly and rises from his seat, “Why are you even here then!? You look like a nerd!”

“Roman!” Patton stands up and now Logan is cornered between them, “Don’t be rude!”

“Wha-Well I’m sorry that I’m confused as to why he’s here if he doesn’t even know about Hamilton!” He steps closer, cornering Logan even more.

Then he stands, “My father enjoys musical theatre and asked me to join, I don’t see what the issue is with my joining but if it truly perturbs you I suppose I will take my leave.”

He’s really grateful for this opportunity to abandon the theatre, and he turns to try and leave and ends up nearly chest to chest with Patton. 

“Hey now! There’s room enough for everyone here Logan!” Patton says brightly, and from the stage, Thomas nods. 

“Patton is right, Roman. We welcome everyone to try their hand at theatre, so please sit down so I can let you all go have lunch.” Thomas looks exasperated as Roman sits with a huff, followed by Patton and Logan.

On the stage, Thomas continues to explain what they will be doing, and then they’re being released to lunch with the goal of listening to the musical and beginning to practice their audition material. 

Logan manages to slink away from Patton, who had started talking to Roman about being nicer to the newbies or something. He had forgotten to bring lunch, which was probably fine. He’d just have to go and find his father and ask for some money. Pushing the auditorium door open, Logan finally notices he has attracted someone’s gaze. He makes eye contact with a glaring boy in a bright yellow hoodie, and he nods. The guy looks away and Logan shrugs him off. The front desk happily calls his father, who comes and brings him some money for the lobby vending machines and promises to buy him something more filling on the way home. This would severely throw off his new healthier diet, but he caves. After this day he would probably need some disgustingly greasy fast food to make him feel a little better. After the stunt with Roman, he’s not sure he’s going to go unnoticed. He buys a bottle of water and a granola bar from the vending machine and decides to sit at one of the lobby chairs to avoid the others. As he turns to find a space to sit, a voice from beside the vending machine makes him jump. 

“You’re not going to fuck up the show, are you?” The voice says, and Logan turns to find the same kid who was glaring at him before. From up close, he’s around the same size as Logan. His eyes are green-brown heterochromic, his hair is messy and brown, and one side of his face has vitiligo in a pattern that looks eerily similar to a reptile’s scales. He is glaring Logan down and he can’t help but feel a little intimidated.

“I don’t plan on it, no. Just because I am here against my will does not mean that I am going to attempt to make the show disreputable in any way.” He tries to say this confidently and he thinks he succeeds when the boy grins and offers him a hand. 

“Janus Devine.”

“Logan Lark.” And then he stops, and realizes he recognizes the origins of that name,“Are you by any chance named after the Greek god of doorways?”

Janus blinks, seemingly not expecting that reaction, “Shit-Yeah-How did you even know that?”

“I pride myself on being well-read.” Logan adjusts his tie as he says it and Janus gives a little chuckle. 

“Very good to know.” Someone yells from down the hall, and Janus rolls his eyes at the noise, “How would you like to come to join me and my...friends this afternoon?”

“It would probably be of good use to me.” He replies with a small shrug of his shoulders. Hopefully, these friends are nicer than that Roman fellow, but not as nice as Patton. 

“Oh no, it’s going to be totally useless. We aren’t going to get anything done.” Deadpans Janus and Logan just stares at him a little confused.

“That was sarcasm, specks.” His counterpart tacks on when he sees the confusion on his face. 

“Oh, right” 

All he can do now is follow Janus as he walks down the hallway towards the loud group of people. Logan follows behind and watches Janus’ movement. He walks so confidently that it’s almost like sauntering, but it’s too slow. Too smooth. It’s like slithering. 

Taking a deep breath, he prepares himself for whatever horrible experiences await.