Act One: My Ballroom, My Betrothed

The fabric of his costume was a pristine onyx. He didn't know how the people responsible for costume design managed to pull it off, but they were somehow able to balance the whimsical aspect of the play with his character's fear-inducing elegance.

Terrance was striking in his military uniform. In the eyes of everyone who surrounded him, adjusting the outfit's tightness to fit his figure, and in the eyes of Nikolas who observed the actors by the sidelines, he was a certified masterpiece. Whether the prodigy would be able to justify the sheer effort put into making him look good was solely up to his still developing skills and fate.

When the hands of his designers stopped tweaking every inch of his clothing and hair, Nikolas stepped in front of his view, eyes burning with determination. "You understand what you're gonna do today, yes?"

"Go around and promote the play." The prodigy repeated the theater director's instructions for the hundredth time in the past hour, voice monotone.

Nikolas looked like he was actually about to send Terrance off to war, playfully saluting him before shoving him out of the small room behind their booth.

He stumbled in his step, but eventually regained balance, a soft flush on his flawless face—what the hell was that for? Composing himself, Terrance was quick to harden his expression into one of charming malice. He did his best to resemble a heartless military general, eyes purposefully narrowed, and lips flattened into something that resembled a frown but wasn't quite one.

One of the booth managers squealed as he stepped out into the open fields of the school, yelling affirmations at him from where he stood. The prodigy honestly couldn't make out the words being thrown at him from the amount of people talking over each other. But it wasn't important enough for him to fuzz over, so he just kept walking.

He didn't bother to give the gathering crowd any of his attention. He was in-character, after all, the best excuse to revert back into his old personality—unbothered, intimidating, with eyes blanker than any void in the universe.

Everyone seemed to love it, which was enough reason for him to keep passing by the ocean of students with promotional flyers like a rude bitch, nonchalantly handing the printed papers to the desperate line of people who screeched at the soft touch of his fingers.

"I heard the dance club's hosting a dancefloor near their booth. It'd be fun to check it out." One of the passing students yelled over the noise, their group of friends attempting and failing to understand whatever they were trying to say. The young Hunton overhead and was quick to get a move on.

After all, the more people in a certain area, the faster he could get rid of his flyers, and the faster he could get rid of his flyers, the faster he could ask for a break.

And although his presence already attracted a plethora of crazed fans near the theater club's booth, he would rather be somewhere where there was a good chance of running into Rose and, not to forget, enjoyable music.

The book club's booth was just next to the dance club's, a satisfactory distance. A few meters away settled the sports club where he had multiple obligations to fulfill as well.

There were no changes to the way people treated him once he began nearing the dancefloor, both younger and older years gawking at his dressed figure, some jolting back from fear. He tried to walk past them the best he could, occasionally shoving a flyer towards a willing stranger.

He pushed through a group of freshmen, time suddenly stopping when he caught sight of his most beloved. Miraculous. It was like the secrets to life were revealed to him.

His eyes widened as he took in Ambrosia's appearance, her usually ruffled up uniform replaced by intricate garments, white and serene. It looked like she was dressed in historical wear, in a similar time era as Terrance, except she represented everything that was pure and majestic—the complete opposite of his character's wickedness.

She made eye contact with him, his throat all of a sudden drying out. Terrance wasn't built to survive Rose's smile, heart going dangerously off beat more than he could count. If he died there and then, soul exposed and vulnerable under the optimistic gaze of Ambrosia Decker, he wouldn't be surprised if she was the same being who would guide him to the afterlife.

He didn't mind the thought at all.

But by the grace of whatever immortal deity was toying with his heartbeat, Terrance survived. He was caught by his senior's arms after being shoved forward by a stranger's ample bottom.

"Hey! Dance with me!" She enthused.

He heard it perfectly well, their closeness overpowering the volume of the music. The way her blonde strands flowed with the wind, sunlight bouncing off of her eyes as if the moment was predestined by an otherworldly presence, made him all too self-conscious.

He must've made a stupid face because the girl made a stupid face in response, utterly amused.

Her laughter filled his ears and everything he was nervous about suddenly disappeared. She never halted in her swaying, movements awkward but perfectly done in the eyes of the Hunton heir. Before he knew it, he was moving along with Rose, unsure of himself but never surer about what he wanted.

The music slowed and it seemed like the seconds did too. Ambrosia's right hand found a place on his shoulder and the other intertwined with his calloused fingers.

Timelessness and eternity were concepts he never gave a second thought to, but at that very moment, he understood why it was so idealized, romanticized by poets and artists alike. It felt like he was in a fairytale being enveloped by Ambrosia's body heat, her tinted lips a step away, but so painfully unreachable.

After all, she was a lady and he was a gentleman from a few centuries back. Kissing the gorgeous woman in front of the masses when many knew that her heart longed for another would be scandalous. But it was so enticing, so excitingly possible. And she was so close to him.

He tried his best to calm his urges, eyes forcibly glued to the way her beautiful browns glimmered as she moved in time with the romantic music. Their inexperience was clear, feet constantly squashing each other's, shoulders bumping against strangers, but it would become an unforgettable moment nevertheless, the intimacy in their hushed giggles a secret that would forever be kept by the universe.

"You're beautiful." He couldn't stop himself from saying. Rose smiled back at him, genuinely glowing.

"Thank you." She replied, just in time for the music to change into something more upbeat. If anything was clear, it was that the dance club members had confusing music taste, which Terrance cursed them for as Ambrosia pulled away from his chest, left hand still holding on to his.

He was dragged away from the dancefloor into a more secluded place near the book club. If Ambrosia and the other members who were dressed in costumes indicated anything, it seemed like they were made to dress as characters from famous novels. A funny but expected coincidence, theater and literature were closely tied arts, after all.

Rose's graceful Filipiniana stood out to Terrance the most. Whoever it was she was emulating, they couldn't have been as breathtaking as her.

She snapped her fingers in front of his face, bringing his soul down after slowly ascending. "Did you bring what I told you to bring?"

The envelope was light under the tip of his fingers, barely a feather as he pulled it from under his coat and placed its fate onto her palms. She opened it as if it held the cure to a deathly illness, rushing to double-check the information neatly written on the paper.

"They really scheduled it on the first day of the culmination, huh. Clever, considering there'll be less students inside."

Terrance raised a brow, "Who exactly are they?"

"Students who take advantage of the school's blatant corruption. They can be dangerous, Terr, so tread carefully, okay?"

He nodded, coming to terms with the gravity of the situation. Rose had asked him over and over again if he was sure about doing her this particular favor and everytime, he had assured her with flawless certainty.

The thought of a reward left no room for disagreement, especially not in Terrance's eyes.

"The appointed time's nearing. When do you plan to head to the meeting place?"

"I can go now. Just," His gaze flicked towards her face. "Can I get a down payment?"

Ambrosia chuckled into her fist, wholeheartedly endeared by her junior's eagerness. The girl shook her head before pulling him down to her height.

It was a brief moment, nearly a ghost of a feeling, but it would forever be ingrained into Terrance's head how Rose's lips felt on his skin, his cheek burning from where she had left a soft peck.

"You know you're easy to use, right?" She pointed out, face just as red as his.

Terrance blinked to check if anything was real.

"I don't mind." He breathed out before spinning towards the opposite direction, head entirely dizzy as he let the events of the past few weeks settle in his mind.