Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Are you kidding me!?”

I stood frozen in front of the cork board in the crowded hallway. Chatter buzzed around me as everyone discussed their roles. 

“Damn, Noceda. Maybe next year,” one of the other kids said, patting me on the back before wandering off

I just stared at the board, mouth agape. I scanned the faces around me. 

I don’t think anyone else was seeing the problem that I saw. Amity got the lead role that I auditioned for, yeah, but I got possibly the worst role anyone could’ve gotten— her love interest!

Suddenly, a sharp, floral perfume filled my nose and an elbow jabbed me out of the way. I didn’t have to look over to know who it was. 

“Are you kidding me!?” Amity shrieked. 

Her head snapped towards me. I stared blankly back. Was she really going to look at me like this was my fault? 

“Oh, no. No way. I’m going straight to Ms. Clawthorne about this. No way in hell are you going to be the love interest.” she continued, tearing the cast list from the board, the paper creasing in her grasp. 

“Oh, so this is my fault? I auditioned for the same role as you, by the way.” I rebutted. 

Amity had already begun walking away, but froze in her tracks, whipping her head back to look at me.

”Yeah? And who got the role? Me. For the fourth year in a row.” 

I rolled my eyes, catching up to her as she marched towards the theater room. The chatter in the hallway got quieter as we ventured off. 

“Ms. Clawthorne isn’t going to change the roles. You know how she is. Sometimes the role isn’t the one you want, but the one you need,” I said, mocking our theater director. 

I heard Amity let out a breath. Closest thing to a laugh I’ll ever get from her. Stuck-up bitch. 

We barreled through the theater doors, the smell of dust hitting me. Ms. Clawthorne’s head snapped up from her clipboard to look at us. 

“If this is about the cast list, I already—“

”There is no way I am doing this with her,” Amity interrupted, pointing back at me. 

I threw my hands up in defense. Ms. Clawthorne looked between the both of us, her eyes narrowing behind her glasses. She sighed, pulling them off and resting her hands in her lap. 

“Look. Sometimes the role isn’t the one you want, but the one you need.” 

I snickered. Her eyes darted over to me. 

“I’m giving you both a challenge. I know there’s tension between the two of you. This will give you both a chance to sort it out. Trust me,” Ms. Clawthorne said. “But if you don’t think you can handle it, there’s plenty of people who would accept your role. Of course, that means you wouldn’t be able to participate in any plays for the rest of the year, and I don’t want you to finish your senior year that way.” 

Amity and I stood in silence. The air felt thick, that tension Ms. Clawthorne was talking about clearly evident. I glanced over at her. Her arms were crossed over her chest, the cast list dangling from one hand. 

“Fine,” Amity spoke up

”Great! See you both Monday at 3:30.” 

Amity huffed and stormed out of the room just as she had coming in here. I slowly trailed behind her, looking over my shoulder at Ms. Clawthorne before leaving. She gave me a warm smile. I smiled back before exiting the theater. 

Chapter Text

“Wrong.”

I looked up from my script, blinking at Amity. 

The cast scattered the theater. Some sat in the chairs, some sprawled on the stage. The blinding light from above caused beads of sweat to appear on my forehead. 

“What do you mean ‘wrong’?” I asked. “That was right.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t say it right. Like, your attitude.”

I blinked again. 

“I can’t do this,” I muttered, pushing myself off of the stage, the wooden floor creaking beneath me. 

“Hey, hey. Sit back down.” Ms. Clawthorne instructed, waving a hand at me. 

I rolled my eyes but hopped back up to my spot. 

“Now Amity, why don’t you give Luz an example of how you would say that line,” the older woman suggested, a twinkle in her eye.  

Amity’s lips curved into that infuriating, smug little smile of hers. The one that screamed ‘I win’. She stood up from her chair and cleared her throat. 

“Prom should be a celebration— of all people,” she said confidently. 

I slouched over and slapped my hand against my cheek, dragging it down my face as Ms. Clawthorne thanked her. I glanced around at the other students in the room. One girl picked at her nails. Another tapped discreetly on his phone. No one else seemed as bothered as I did. I sighed. 

“Prom should be a celebration— of all people,” I read, imitating Amity’s tone this time. 

I met her eyes as I looked up from my script. She had that same damn smirk on her face. I rolled my eyes. 

“Better,” she remarked, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. 

I hummed.

The rest of the read-through went similar to this. I’d deliver a line, Amity would “correct” me. She’d stumble over a word, I’d snort. Ms. Clawthorne had to remind us both to be respectful more than ten times.

At the end of rehearsal, I lingered behind while everyone else gathered their things. When the last student closed the double doors, I quietly tiptoed up to Ms. Clawthorne in her seat. I placed my backpack down at her feet with a thump. 

 “I can’t do this,” I said again.

Ms. Clawthorne looked up from her clipboard. She met my eyes with her piercing grey stare. 

“Can’t do what?” she asked, looking back down at her board. 

I paused for a moment. She knew what she was doing. 

“This,” I said, pointing to my script. 

She looked back up. She sighed, sitting upright and removing her glasses from her face. 

“Luz, I already told you. I’m not changing your role. I’m trying to challenge you, and clearly, you can’t seem to handle it.” 

I blinked at her. My lips pursed out of annoyance. Of course I could handle a challenge. I just couldn't handle Amity Blight. It’s impossible to get anything done around her. 

“I can handle it,” I started. “I just… can’t work with her.”

“Then you’ll learn to.” Ms. Clawthorne said flatly, rising from her seat. “There’s something between you two. Something that’ll sell tickets.” 

I shook my head. 

“No, see— the only thing between us—“

”Tomorrow, I’m having you two stay after rehearsal to run some scenes alone,” she interrupted me. 

“Alone?!”

”You heard me. Don’t be late.” 

With that, she brushed past me, heading for the lights. The clicking of her heels echoed through the empty theater as she disappeared behind the curtain. 

I stood frozen in my spot for a moment. What was wrong with her?

I sighed and picked up my bag, tossing it over my shoulder and dragging myself toward the door. 

Chapter Text

I’ve been dreading this moment all day. 

The final bell rang. I gathered my things slowly, trying to savor my remaining sanity as long as I could. The chatter around me died down as everyone exited the classroom, leaving just me and another girl alone in the room. 

I looked back at her. She was hunched over a piece of paper, scribbling down something quickly. I recognized her dark hair and glasses— she was also in the cast. 

“Yo, the bell rang,” I spoke up, walking towards the back of the classroom where she sat. 

The girl— Willow— didn’t even look up at me. She just nodded. 

”I know. I’ve just gotta finish this one thing,” she muttered. 

I hesitated. 

“Okay.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. She seemed fine. I walked back to my desk, listening to her scribble behind me. I picked up my backpack and began to walk out the door.  

“Hey, wait.” 

I turned. 

“You’re playing Alyssa,” Willow said, more as a fact than as a question. 

My hand slid down the strap of my backpack. I nodded. 

“Uh, yeah. I am.” 

“Yikes,” She chuckled. 

I raised an eyebrow. Was she making fun of me? 

“You and Amity Blight as Emma and Alyssa, huh?” she said, pushing her glasses up on her nose. 

I slowly began to walk back over to her. I cracked a small smile. 

“Right? Who would’ve ever guessed. Ms. Clawthorne is making us stay over tonight to run scenes by ourselves. Apparently we hate each other too much for her liking,” I joked. 

Willow let a breath out from her nose. 

“No way. Try not to kill each other.” 

I chuckled. Everyone knew about the rivalry between me and the Blight. We’d hated each other since middle school. Honestly? I couldn't even remember why. But that doesn’t matter anymore. 

“Well, hey. We should get going,” I said, motioning towards the door.

Willow looked up at the clock. 

“Shit, we probably should,” she laughed, quickly gathering her things. 

The two of us walked in silence down the hallway. The only sound was the occasional slamming of a locker and our footsteps against the floor. 

As we approached the theater doors, I took a deep breath. I reached for the handle and held it open for Willow. The slamming of the door caused everyone to look back at us. 

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Ms. Clawthorne teased. ”We were just about to get started.” 

I looked up at the stage. The ensemble was scattered around while Amity stood smack in the center, arms crossed. Her eyes narrowed, burning holes in my head as she stared at me. 

I rolled my eyes at her and trudged down the aisle, dropping into a seat in the front row. 

I wasn’t on stage for the first thirty minutes. It was mainly Amity and a few other kids from the cast. Since this was our first time blocking, it was kinda choppy, and Ms. Clawthorne had to stop us over twenty times. I rested my head on my hand and watched as Amity performed unfortunately perfectly. 

When it was my turn to go on, I grabbed my script and headed backstage. As I stepped on stage, I met the eyes of the only other person out there— Amity. 

“That was insane,” I said, reading from my paper. 

“Wait,” Amity said. 

I rolled my eyes. 

“Pause after you say ‘that.’”

I sighed, but nodded. 

“That.. was insane.”

I’d never admit it, but the line did sound better. 

The rest of rehearsal flew by. Probably because I was dreading mine and Amity’s solo practice. 

As everyone else packed their things, Amity and I awkwardly lingered back, waiting for Mrs. Clawthrone’s instructions. 

“Alright, ladies,” she said, clapping her hands together. “I know for sure I want to go over your first scene, and we’ll see what else from there.”

I sighed, walking up on stage. Amity followed. I clutched my script firmly in my left hand and glanced over at Amity. She didn’t even need hers. I rolled my eyes.

”Action!”

Amity walked on stage first. Slowly, hesitantly. I followed after her shortly. 

“That.. was insane,” I said, remembering to pause like I’d been told. 

“I know,” came Amity’s reply. 

“I’m really freaking out.”

”Don’t freak out.” 

“Cut!”

I dropped my script down to my side and glared at Mrs. Clawthorne. 

“I need more! There’s nothing there. You’re not convincing me,” She said, talking with her hands. 

I sighed, looking down at the ground. I took a deep breath. 

“I’m really freaking out.” 

“Don’t freak out.” 

“Better!” 

The rest of the scene went on like this. I’d say a line, Mrs. Clawthorne would stop us. Amity would say a line, Mrs. Clawthorne would groan. 

“Luz, stop mumbling. Amity, quit acting like you’re speaking at a funeral. Girls, cmon. Pretend you like each other.”

“I’m trying!” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “It’s just literally impossible.”

Amity scoffed.

”Wow. It’s that hard for you to even *pretend* you like me? Ouch.”

My lip twitched. 

“Oh, don’t even. We wouldn’t have to keep stopping if you would just add some enthusiasm to your voice.” 

“Girls!”

Amity and I snapped our heads over to Mrs. Clawthorne, who looked like she could’ve ripped up apart right then and there. 

“Maybe you two should try talking this out. Figure out the heat between you. You can’t fix what you won't face.” Mrs. Clawthorne spoke. 

I clenched my jaw. 

”What is there to talk about?” I muttered. “We hate each other. End of story.”

I glanced over to Amity. She was already looking at me. She nodded. 

“Okay,” Mrs. Clawthorne sighed. “Perhaps we should try a trust exercise?” 

“Nope,” Amity spoke up.

It was my turn to nod. 

Mrs. Clawthorne pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“Here, let's just— look. Amity, why don’t you tell Luz one thing about her that—“ 

“I’m leaving,” Amity blurted.

Mrs. Clawthorne froze. 

I glanced between her and Amity, who had begun walking down the stage stairs and was grabbing her backpack. I shrugged. 

“Me too. Later Mrs. C.”

Mrs. Clawthorne stood helpless as she watched the two of us grab our things and head out the door.