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Every time of day evokes a different emotion or feeling in a different person. At noon, people are usually up and ready for work or their daily activities. There is an evening where some are relaxing, and some are still at work, and finally, there is night, where most have fallen asleep. But morning is a whole other story, specifically for a select few, busy at work, or in this case, painting. This person, especially, was at work. His hand steadily stroked his brush against the large backdrop canvas, which was larger than any canvas you could buy anywhere. Its purpose wasn’t just art, but a background. A background for a performance. And speaking of performance, he was silently watching as the stagehand finished the line art for the next show happening next week. “Not too shabby, little man. Maybe you’ll be as good as me one day.” The stagehand jumped up in surprise, for he was unaware that his friend was behind him.
“How long were you standing there, you sneak?”
“For a good eight or ten minutes.” He teased.
“Can’t you go paint your own canvas or something? I'm busy at the moment. And also, aren't you supposed to be writing the rest of the script?”
“I finished it an hour ago. Wow, so little hope in your own boss! Maybe I should decrease your pay, hmm?” He continued to tease the frantic stagehand.
“You don't pay me, doofus. Now go do something else, like monitor your other crew members.”
“Okay, okay, I was just checking in. Am I not allowed to worry?”
“No, you just focus on me. It's *always* me.”
“Okay, okay, I have to go anyway. The shipment just came by. Cya bud!”
Now that he was thinking about it, the performance guide seemed to focus mostly on him. He never really thought about it, but the concept was interesting. It was unexpected and odd to say the least, and the frantic stagehand wanted to find out more about why the performance guide was doing this suddenly. He ended up finishing the backdrop and scurrying over to spy on the performance guide and mellow musician unloading the shipment. The supplies were way more expensive than normal, a 25% increase in price according to the frantic stagehands’ judgment. Eventually, the frantic stagehand's curiosity took over him, so he stood up and decided to walk down the ramp to see why the prices were higher. The first thing he saw was the mellow musician coming to greet him. “Did you really finish all your work for once? No extra little details, only you care about it?” They asked. The frantic stagehand only gave a stern look. The mellow musician shrugged and walked off, delivering supplies to the music sheet corner. The frantic stagehand looked at all eight boxes and carefully examined each one. He barely glimpsed the last one before being caught by the performance guide. “You finished? You actually finished for once??” The performance guide questioned the stagehand.
“Yes, I did, what about it?” The performance guide went over and hugged the frantic stagehand tightly, having a firm yet warm grasp.
“You never finish anything! It's always you need more details or more colors, this is the first time I've seen you happy with something in months!” he smiled at the frantic stagehand, letting go while heading to do something.
“Well, I want it to be perfect, not just good.”
“There's no such thing as perfect, hey, even I’m not perfect! Besides, they aren't the main focus anyway. You don't have to put so much work in just for a small thing that's put in the back.”
The frantic stagehand nodded in agreement and looked back at the shipment, counting the number of boxes and noticing something was off. He looked back at the mellow musician, who was helping the forgetful storyteller put music sheets away for days of music. He had already taken one of the boxes of music sheets. So there were supposed to be eight left. But he noticed something. “Five, six, seven.. Where's the other one?” He looked to the performance guide in confusion. “What else? I don’t remember an extra.”
“The eighth box, there's only seven now.” The Frantic stagehand replied.
“Thats because the mellow musician took one and deposited it into the podium. There were eight originally, I think.’
“Nope, I counted after he took the box, there's one missing, I swear.”
“Ugh, hang on, and let me finish something, and then I’ll be over.”
Eventually, he did finish (even though it felt like forever), and went over to see if it was true. He remembered every one that he ordered. One with music sheets, a second one with ink and quills, the third had paper, the fourth one held glass of different kinds, the fifth contained markers and art supplies, the sixth had electrical units, the seventh had wood planks, and the eighth… wait.
“Oh, elders, you weren’t kidding, and it’s the personal one I ordered too.” The performance guide audibly sighed.
“Ahh, well, at least it wasn’t something we n…” The frantic stagehand stopped in his tracks.
There, behind the slope stairs, was a bunny, and that very bunny had the ninth box. The frantic stagehand immediately chased after it, with the performance guide noticing both the bunny and the stagehand and deciding to chase after it as well. The bunny ran past the theater and into the village of dreams, where the days of fortune event was happening. People watched in awe and laughter as the bunny ran and slid across the ice while two angered spirit men sprinted after it. It then took a U-turn and went straight for the theater. The performance guide noticed this and took a route that would corner the bunny onto the stage of the theater. The frantic stagehand looked back and noticed all the people watching them run after a small bunny. He stopped looking only to see how ahead the two were, and decided to take cover in an alley for a rest break.
The performance guide was almost at the theater when he noticed the mellow musician and rhythm guide speaking and tuning instruments. Right exactly where the bunny was heading. His mind immediately raced in panic. And then the bunny and rhythm guide collided. He was knocked back in shock while the bunny ran to the back. At this point, the performance guide was furious. He sprinted to the back only to find the bunny squealing in the frantic stagehand's arms. The box was placed carefully on the floor, and nothing seemed to be damaged. “How did you even get here? When did you get ahead of me? Why are you-”
“Shush, it needs to calm down before I let it go. Can't have it being a risk to the supplies again.”
“What if it jumps out and hurts my brother again?” Performance asked.
“It hurt your brother?”
The performance guide remembered what happened and immediately ran to the stage. Once he saw his brother, he had a sigh of relief, and the relief quickly became anxiety. As he was being yelled at by his own brother, the frantic stagehand and mellow musician watched in silence.
“What if your friend didn't stop it in time?”
“I would have still chased after it!”
“And then what? It would hit me again?!”
“I don't know..”
“I saw it had a box of some kind. What could it have possibly been for you and your little friend to go running around the whole village just to have it knock into me, break both instruments, and make a scene?”
“…”
The performance guide stood silent in both guilt and fear. He didn't know how to react other than just taking it. He slowly backed up and ran to the back closet, with the frantic stagehand attempting to join him. But the rhythm guide stopped him in his tracks.
“What was in that box? Tell me. Now.”
“I don't know, man. All I know is that it was something personal for him.”
“Personal..?! I’m gonna beat him so hard he’ll see stars.”
“No, you aren't. I’m tired of seeing you berate him for things he can't control. If you want to control something, how about you control your attitude and see his perspective for once instead of telling him he's wrong about everything. And don't you dare try to talk to him later.”
“…”
He noticed the rhythm guide had a disturbed expression. He stepped back and put both his arms up, and looked down in a slightly shameful body language.
“Leave.”
“Okay, fine.”
The rhythm guide walked away in anger, almost knocking into a few people standing outside waiting to know what happened. The mellow musician carefully approached the frantic stagehand. He looked back at where the rhythm guide once was and where the frantic stagehand was. “I’ve never seen you get so stood up, bro.”
“You know how I feel about him. I’d defend him even if the world was against him.”
“He doesn’t feel the same, right? According to what he told me.”
“Yes, I'm aware. That's how rejection works mel.”
“You should go check on him. I’ll be mixing up this mess for all y’all. It's the least I could do after just being a witness.”
The mellow musician walked off and began looking for cleaning supplies while the stagehand went to the back closet. Usually, there was a candle that was lit at the end of the hallway, but it was blown out. Most likely by the performance guide. The frantic stagehand stood at the end of the hallway, hoping to squint his eyes and see a glimpse of the performance guide. But even so, it was still too dark.
“Hey, perf? Your brother left. I came to comfort you if you needed it.” Only to be met with silence.
“I promise he’s gone. If you want me to leave, you can just tell me.”
Still no answer.
“I need an answer. I'm worried about you.”
At this point, the frantic stagehand began to think the performance guide snuck away while the argument was happening.
“You..”
The frantic stagehand froze in shock. He looked back to see the performance guide staring at him from behind with his back slightly arched. The gaze was something out of a horror movie, and his eyes were blank yet full. The stagehand could only breathe with his vocal cords instead of words. Eventually, though, he managed to get a sentence out.
“Are you.. okay after what happened?”
The performance guide only stared more; the stagehand was now truly in fear and decided to take his leave.
“Okay, you seem upset. I'm just gonna leave the room.”
Before he could even move a step, the performance guide grabbed his arm. Now the stagehand was really in it. He couldn't even tell what emotion the performance guide was having. Fear? Anger? Neither one really fit the mold.
“You protected me..?”
“I uh.. I did. What about it?”
“…”
The performance guide then embraced the stagehand tightly. The sudden hug made the stagehand confused, but he embraced the performance guide nonetheless. The performance guides back then straightened, and his face returned to normal, but with a slightly aroused look at the stagehand. The performance guide pushed the stagehand's head into his chest and lightly took his hood off.
“I don't know what you’re trying to do, but please tell me first at least.”
The performance guide took both his and the stagehands’ masks off, and then started to pet the stagehand’s hair in a slow motion with a calming effect, while still having the stagehand's face on his chest.
“Mmf.”
The stagehand was enjoying this thoroughly. He barely noticed how odd this was for two close friends, especially since the performance guide had rejected him a few weeks earlier. This was very unusual behavior, but at least he was about to get his answer.
“Is there something you wanna tell me?” The stagehand said, face still buried.
The performance guide then lifted the frantic stagehand's chin towards him.
“I do, actually. “
“Yes, you’re welcome. Now quit the act and help me clean up this mess.” The stagehand laughed.
“It's not that, if it was, I’d say it faster.”
“Why are you so serious all of a sudden?”
“Because it's important.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“No, but I might be. Depending on whether you say yes or no.”
“What?”
The performance guide backed up slightly and held both of the stagehands’ palms. He took a few deep breaths before thinking about what to say, and such began his speech.
“I need to confess something that's been on my mind for a while now. Every time we're together, it feels like time stands still. You have this incredible ability to make me smile, even on my toughest days. I adore your laughter, the way your eyes light up when you talk about your artwork, and the kindness you show to everyone around you.”
He fidgeted with his hands as he spoke, looking down at them. He didn't flinch, but he did shake a little bit. The stagehand, however, was in absolute shock. Not even two months ago, the performance guide held nothing back for him. And now the feelings came to him, not some scrappy woman who would treat him like a dog.
“You’ve always defended me, whether it's my brother, my mother, my friends, my partners.. It's always been you there to help me. Back when you first confessed, I didn’t feel anything, but I did get the idea to explore further. And that’s when both I and my body realized just what I had been missing out on. You’ve always been different from the others, even when I wasn’t in love, and I was always your first choice when it came to emotional support or hanging out with someone. I love you, and there's nothing I can do to make you love me back again. All I can do is get this off my chest and hope for some impossible miracle.”
The stagehand remained silent for a few moments, trying to process what he just heard. Was this just more teasing? Was he intoxicated? After a few moments of thinking, he decided to ask the performance guide a favor. to truly see if he was being true to his words.
“Prove it.”
“What?”
“Prove it, and maybe I’ll give you a chance.”
“How am I supposed to prove it? Am I supposed to dance like an actual penguin and hope you’re impressed?”
“I don't know, what would you do?”
“I would get you something.” The performance guide gasped and ran to the front of the stage. The stagehand could hear him making a slight mess out of the rubble. He audibly sighed, knowing someone was going to have to clean it up. The performance guide was messy, but that's what made him cute in a way.
The performance guide returned with the personal box and opened it. He began rummaging through it, searching for something specific. The frantic stagehand attempted to see what was inside, but was pushed away by the performance guide.
“What is it?”
“I can't tell you.” Performance replied.
“Why not?”
“It needs to be perfect.”
“Wait, what?”
The performance guide quickly sprinted towards his office, leaving the frantic stagehand behind the stage. The frantic stagehand looked down to see the small bunny still in his arms, resting comfortably. He lightly petted it while walking towards the doorway. “Off you go, little bunny.” He paced it down in the snow and waited for it to leave. Instead of the bunny leaving, though, it hopped straight back to the frantic stagehand and into his arms. “I guess you’re my pet then.”
The stagehand walked to his home and opened the door. The house was quiet yet dark, and had a single candle lit up near the stairs. The stagehand went up the stairs quietly and opened the door to his room. The carpet was very soft and velvety, giving a clean yet comfortable feel. He placed the bunny on the bed and sat next to it. “So what do I name you?” He looked out the window to see the performance guide frantically talking to the forgetful storyteller. He looked at the performance guide carefully from the window and thought about the gold that seeps out of the mask he wears. “I think I’ll call you Berri. Sure, most berries aren’t yellow, but I think it suits you. Don’t you think so?” The bunny squeaked in amusement and rubbed against the blankets on the bed. It then flopped down and slept. “Sleep well, Berri.”
The frantic stagehand went back outside to find the other crew members and found the rhythm guide waiting outside. He had a cold expression on his face and had his arms slightly crossed at his chest. The stagehand, with a confused look, asked the rhythm guide what he was doing at his house.
“You shouldn't have left the performance guide on his own. I left him at Harmony Hall; if you want to try and help him back up. ”
The stagehand was already running to the Harmony Hall. The fight earlier must have set a spark in the rhythm guide for this to happen. He ran through the doorway and found himself at the desk, yet no one was there. However, this wasn’t normal; the rhythm guide would never do such a thing. So why now, that the fight escalated? Right when the performance guide confessed? All of this was so confusing. He ran up to his art area and saw the performance guide sitting on the floor near the corner with a paper in his hand. “Perf? What's going on? Are you okay?” the stagehand asked. The performance guide got up and walked towards the stagehand, while the stagehand stood in utter confusion.
“He said he hurt you? What happened?”
“I’m fine, just allow me to-”
“No way. What? Does he know about this?”
“Let me do my thing first, and then I’ll tell you.”
“But what about what the rhythm guide said?”
“It's nothing important; what's important is what I need to give to you.”
The performance guide handed the paper to the frantic stagehand while backing up a slight amount. When the stagehand looked at the paper, he noticed a list of places that were around the harmony hall. He slowly read the paper and realized what the performance guide was doing all along.
“A scavenger hunt..?”
“Just go do it, I’ll be watching you.”
That sounded a bit creepy, but the stagehand didn't mind too much. He went to where the first item was: “Music sheet.” He looked up and noticed a small letter with a seal on it. He looked back and noticed there were a few other items on the list, such as a piano and a bell. For every item he went to, there was a letter, and each stamp had its own seal color on it. Eventually, he made it to the last item, which was the brush. He walked up to his little art corner and looked around the shelves, behind the backdrops, pretty much everywhere. As he sat down for a break, he looked around to see if he could find the letter or any type of clue. He looked up to the music mixer and realized a letter was placed directly on it. “Oh wow i really am blind. Even in death, I can't see anything. Not even for him.”
He walked up to the mixer and grabbed the final letter; all the stagehand had to do was figure out what to do. Should he open them? Would they say something? All these questions needed to be answered for him. He opened each one and noticed each one had a singular letter.
“Maybe I should sort them alphabetically?”
He did place them as such, but it only came out as “a, a, d, n, n, o, r, r, t, u, u”**.**
“What else am I supposed to do? Maybe it’s sorted by color?”
They were placed in that specific type of order. In total, there were 11 letters, all of which were most likely to spell something out. Hopefully, this time, he would know what it was supposed to be.
Eventually, he did manage to crack the code. He placed the pink one after instead of before the violet, which is a mistake he often made due to his not understanding colors from a young age. The letters finally read, “Turn around”.
“Turn around..? Why would I do that? “
He looked back and saw nothing. Of course, that's impossible. How would the performance guide know where the stagehand was when he finished? Unless he knew he would find the music mixer last, which wasn't too shabby when the stagehand thought of it.
The stagehand looked back only to see the performance guide on top of him. Sort of in a dog-like position, he held the stagehand's chin and slightly rubbed it with his fingers.
“What the?! The stagehand was extremely shocked, as he hadn't seen him the entire time.
“Just be quiet and let me treat you. “
The performance guide kissed the frantic stagehand where the good spot was. The stagehand, while still shocked, slowly melted into it and kissed back. The performance guide slowly came closer to the stagehand, trying his best not to step on him.
“Mmmphh..~” The two exchanged noises like these for the next five minutes while consecutively kissing each other. They both held each other very close while keeping each other warm.
Eventually, the stagehand dropped to the floor lightly, having the performance guide lie on his chest. He petted the performance guide's head, lightly brushing up his head feathers.
“That feels weird, but like a good type of weird. You know?” the performance guide commented.
“I'd know, you petted me earlier. Felt unreal for most of the time, “ the stagehand chuckled.
“So, you're my boyfriend now, right? “
“What makes you think I'm not?”
“My delusions.. *Mmmm*… “
He slowly began to fall asleep under the weight of his much larger lover. It felt good, almost like a weighted blanket. Except very big and very bird like. The performance guide picked the stagehand up and carried him over to his house. Once the performance guide got in, he immediately noticed how much messier it was than usual.
The frantic stagehand was always messy in some places, but not usually this messy. He looked around and noticed some things with the performance guides mask symbol on them. “Aww.. he's so cute. I'm so happy he's mine now, “ the performance guide thought to himself.
He finally entered the stagehands’ room to find Berri, the little bunny that the stagehand had tamed.
“Why are you here, little guy? “
The bunny just continued sleeping on the bed.
“I guess you're his pet then. “
He placed the frantic stagehand on the bed beside the bunny; the blankets were soft and velvety with a sleek finish. As he sat down next to him, the frantic stagehand Woozily held his lover's hand.
"That's Berri. I adopted it after it took a liking to me.“ The stagehand yawned.
“That's cute, I'm glad you could finally find some company here. “
“But I also have you now, my love. “
The words made the performance guides' hearts flutter.
“Can I… Sleep with you?”
“Do you mean like..?”
“Woah, let's not be hasty!” The performance guide laughed quietly.
“ I mean, as in just sleeping, don't worry. Besides, I don't even think we're ready yet. We just started anyway. “
“Then come here, don't keep me waiting.”
The performance guide slipped into bed with him. The bed sheets, along with the stagehand, gave a large amount of comfort to the performance guide. He rested his head on the stagehand's pillow, which had a squishy texture. The stagehand pressed his head into the performance guide's chest and fell asleep. It didn't take long for his lover to follow along. Berri slept right next to the two very comfortably while snuggling into the blankets.
The moon seemed brighter that night. Maybe their afterlives will be too.