Act One: Carousel

When one could hear their every breath, the pounding of their heart a distant sound, a steady pitter patter in the background,

When one could vividly sense every patch of their skin and still feel detached to their very existence, as if a spectator to the physical world,

You could never forget the first time you lost your grip on reality in favor of comprehending art.

Time stopped and yet a presence moved amongst its stillness.

A single exhale, then the seconds resumed like a wave, a catastrophic, utterly spine-chilling force that pushed stronger than gravity could pull.

Terrance was spectacular. Bright wasn't enough to describe it, his beauty was blinding. He was amorous, captivating, and incredibly overwhelming to the senses. He looked ancient, not in a way a withering fossil was, but how an artifact's beauty would be carefully preserved throughout generations.

To be applauded, to be appreciated, and to be loved,

His button nose, rosy lips, and striking eyes,

And the messy head of brown hair, bordering red, that swayed gracefully with his movements—he looked so natural in his role, it was maddening.

Ambrosia inhaled and it was a struggle all on its own not to burst and become the wind. Her junior's words sent a pleasurable tingle down her spine.

Mine. It bounced off the walls of her mind like a mantra.

My betrothed.

The rest of the scene played out smoothly. Terrance's performance stole the show, proving to the audience that he was deserving of his title as a prodigy. His talent to adapt and to overcome almost every task he was given was a rarity gifted by the heavens.

It explained to Ambrosia why Terrance had been so popular, even beyond his year, despite the harassment he had faced in the past.

As she turned to her right, a much needed break from the inescapably breathtaking scene, her head finally caught up to her heart.

She wasn't the only one who appreciated Terrance.

As a matter of fact, Felicity Lovell, lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed, looked like she was falling in love with the gray-eyed looker in a matter of seconds.

Their plan worked, against all the missteps that happened on their way to success. They finally reached their goal. No, Ambrosia finally reached her goal. Terrance declared himself an antagonist to her hopeless love story, harboring the opposite of her intentions.

Regardless, having Felicity turn her back on Hugh was a great success.

And yet, it left Rose conflicted.

She gulped down the saliva forming in her mouth. It felt dry, but that was a passing thought, fleeting, before her gaze fell onto Terrance's form again, body draped in expensive fabrics.

She didn't need to know what his role was, she just knew that he had already earned it. He was the quintessential embodiment of whoever he was, his place on the stage practically marked.

And when Terrance exchanged passionate emotion-filled dialogue with the female lead, Ambrosia's heart started pounding painfully against her ribcage. She was undeniably invested, despite the play's predictable storyline.

The beauty of theater wasn't something he embodied, it was something he ascended.

And yeah, maybe she put too much credit on his amateur performance because of how easy on the eye he was, but it was a bias she would stand by 'til the end of time.

He wailed, and yelled, and acted outrageously like a monster. But it was a beautiful depiction of a brutish man.

For a moment, Ambrosia wanted to be swept away by the fantasy of him locking her away from the rest of the world against her will, he'd throw her into a golden cage, but realized in time that her thoughts were wrong.

Hugh.

Hugh.

Hugh's.

She was Hugh's.

The performance ended too soon. Ambrosia's feet stayed planted on the ground as everybody else's did. Cheers erupted throughout the room, even Nikolas who was infamous for being unimpressed had a satisfied expression on his face.

An exchange of,

"That was amazing."

"You were wonderful!"

"Oh wow, you have skills, Hunton."

Was heard throughout, but Ambrosia stayed silent.

She waited, unsure of what she was waiting for in the first place.

When Terrance approached her, his footsteps light against the theater's floors, she realized that she had been waiting for him.

"What did you think?" He asked and it took her a few seconds to properly comprehend that her junior was speaking to her.

Ambrosia only smiled and it was awe-inspiring how Terrance's gaze followed her lips, worshipping her with his eyes, like she had hung the stars. "I think I stopped breathing for a while. I was so convinced it was real!"

Rose's hands flew into the air and she hoped her enthusiasm was enough to mask the fluttering of her heart. Terrance only chuckled at her antics and it was a comfortable sound, like something out of their late night studying sessions.

"I'm kind of disappointed though. I technically got spoiled even if I understood nothing about the plot. Your amazing acting skills were too distracting!"

He smiled at her, "I think if my skills were as amazing as you say, you'd understand a portion of the play's storyline by now."

Ambrosia snorted in response, hitting his back without thinking.

"You dyed your hair." Terrance pointed out, fingers moving to toy with her golden strands, the same way he did with his fellow actress. The action left her breathless, but, at the same time, conflicted. Again.

"Yeah. I thought it'd be a good change of style. Everybody has a mental breakdown sometimes and gets impulsive." She reasoned, coyly rocking herself on her feet back and forth.

Terrance didn't look convinced for a second, eyes dark. Usually, he would have let her deceit go, familiar with her habit of sugarcoating, but he realized that there were no longer any inhibitions between the two, no reasons to be pretentiously sensitive around the topic.

"Don't lie to me. I know the real reason."

"I..." Ambrosia booped his nose. "Think you might be a psychic, then! Seriously, you should stop bagging all the skills and leave some for us."

"You're really not giving up on Hugh, huh?"

She stayed silent for a while, staring down at her feet, heels barely recognizable from their polished state on the first day of school, black leather worn and wasted. When she looked back up at him, her face spoke of nothing but amusement. "No. I don't see a reason why I should quite yet."

"You know, if it were me, I'd be impressed by every blink of your eye." He said, highlighting his words by pointing at her flitting eyelashes. "You wouldn't need to go through such lengths. I already notice everything about you."

He reached for her hand, cheekily placing it on the left side of his face, his head's weight gently resting on her palm. "Like the way you looked at me when I was on stage. It motivated me to push through. Did you like it? Your stunned face was adorable, your attention was..."

He toyed with her fingers, moving her pointer to his lips, "It left me breathless."

Ambrosia pulled her hand away with a haste, the look of unadulterated shock foreign on her face. He watched as she tried to recover from his boldness, a practiced smile hiding away the cracks in her facade.

"Terr, married men aren't supposed to talk to married women like that!" She teased, alluding to his role in the play.

The prodigy could only chuckle, humorless, as she turned away from him, her backpack already slung over her shoulder.

"Anyway, I need to go do some important school stuff. It's not easy being a genius' senior."

"How long do you plan to keep disregarding my advances?"

She paused in her step, unable to say anything.

"Don't play the victim with me right now. I told you my intentions." Those same brown eyes squinted in frustration, something firm warning Terrance of the dangers that lied ahead. He sensed it—the warning, the last one he would be getting before she would let him cross the line and suffer the consequences.

"I don't plan to give up Hugh. I'm willing to entertain you because I care about you as a friend and I have nothing else to keep my mind racing, but don't expect anything from me."

Terrance hung his head in defeat and sighed. What else was he expecting? To be rewarded for having an outstanding performance?

"Tell me if you can't handle it." She spat out.

He didn't waste a second before answering. "No. I can handle it."

"Are you sure? We don't have to do this." Ambrosia repeated and the concern in her voice had his body warming. At that moment, they weren't rivals, they weren't competitors in the game of love, utterly heartless and unstoppable in their pursuit. They were friends. "I'm an awful person for toying with your feelings, I'm not gonna deny that. You shouldn't either."

He shook his head, a crazed glimmer in his eyes. "It's only a matter of time. I'll make you fall in love with me."

She chuckled. They truly were twisted in the head. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but the objectives seem a bit delusional!"

"Whatever. Say that after you finish your homework, senior."

"Hey! Stop calling me that! It's Rose to you."

"Do your homework, Rose."

She laughed at his words, although a bit offended, and chased him around the theater seats with a fury. Others were content observing the two in middle of their childish shenanigans before eventually Felicity interrupted, a subtle blush on her cheeks.