four.

ANY MINUTE NOW. Any minute now and the Director should open the door.

Nathan had been confident about his memorizing skills but suddenly he doubted everything. Suddenly, if he closed his eyes, he felt like he couldn't conjure a single word of the script.

Just the stress, he reminded himself and leant the back of his head against the wall, one leg stretched and the other knee curved up.

"I hope you're done with everything, my actors," the Director finally announced, "because give me a few minutes and I'll open the door."

Nathan's heartbeat spiked once then stopped altogether. Beside him, and just like him, Adelaide was a breathing (but prepped) chaos.

Letting out a shaky breath, Nathan forced himself to his feet, expecting Adelaide to stand as well. But she remained folded on the floor, eyes on the script. The papers wrinkled where her fingers gripped.

"We've been memorizing for around two and a half hours. Now you're only stressing yourself," Nathan said, dangling a hand down to help her up.

Adelaide ignored it—his poised fingers, or his offer, or him altogether. Then she slowly pulled herself up, palm trembling against the wall, until she stood beside him.

"W-We can do this," Adelaide said. Words couldn't fool Nathan but he could fool her. He could pretend he agreed, pretend he wasn't crying inside, yearning for past days already. (Not that he'd admit all that, because the standardized equation stated that rich kids plus nagging equaled spoiled brats.) "Right? We memorized a lot. We have to do this."

Nathan just nodded. It was the worst time for his imagination but right now all he could think of was the shotgun's barrel. Desperately wanting the image to disintegrate, he shook his head to himself like a lunatic.

"Nathan?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think somebody's gonna be watching us? An audience?"

The question dragged behind an entirely different horizon into Nathan's head. Eyes suddenly wide, he quickly turned to face Adelaide. "I don't know," he said, "but if there is, don't stop acting to scream for help. Please. I'm pretty sure he won't make it that easy for us."

Adelaide's expression faltered. Turned sour. As if she was saying: you think I'd do something stupid like that, jackass? But then she nodded, perhaps half-aware that she'd really do that.

"Yeah, you're right. I won't do that. We'll plan things together first, right? And— oh my gosh, he's opening the door."

For a millisecond, Adelaide's hand flung out, instinctively searching for Nathan's to hold. Finger brushed against finger then she realized what she'd done and quickly pulled back. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

Nathan would have assured her that it was fine if his entire internal system wasn't failing. The familiar rattle of chains rattled inside Nathan's chest. The door pushed in an inch, but not further.

Nathan waited for an order. Guidance. Nerve-wrecking silence persisted for a minute. Maybe more, maybe less. He lost track midst the tension suffocating him.

"Come out, my actors."

For the second time, Nathan stepped out first. The thumps of his heart echoed in his ears as he passed the corridor and slowly climbed up the stair-steps, wanting to extend the time, push out the inevitable even though he knew he couldn't do that.

Was that what prisoners walking up to death penalty felt like? Trudging straight to their grave, aware of looming death? The chance of survival dwindled in sync with Adelaide's ragged breath. If Nathan'd manage to survive this and go back home, he'd probably hug his dad and never let go.

"Stop. Stay where you are."

Nathan had been in the middle of stepping on the very last rung and he came to a faltering halt. Adam's apple bobbing, he glanced back at Adelaide for a mere second. She caught up and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him on the threshold of the stage.

A little to the front, something brownish slumped on the planks, close enough for Nathan's eyes to pick up without much strain. "Your grocery bags?"

"Yeah." The word was enough but Adelaide nodded as well for some reason. "My props, remember?"

"I remember. But where's my briefcase? The script said—" Adelaide cut Nathan off by tapping his arm and pointing to the right where a suitcase leant against the wall. "Oh," he said, quickly lifting its leather handle. Light. Nothing was inside, he assumed.

"My heroine," the Director said, "prepare yourself on stage first."

Nathan tried locating the Director but his shitty eyesight wasn't helping. He took a tiny step back, shoulder pointed at one angle, free hand respectfully gesturing Adelaide to pass.

"Adelaide." Nathan forced a smile before she could leave. "We can do this. You said it. Don't forget, it's the left bag you drop, okay?"

A remark was on the tip of Adelaide's tongue—Nathan could tell—but she just nodded and walked hesitantly across the stage, closer to the bags, heels of her shoes echoing far too loudly against the planks midst the dreary silence.

The paper bags crinkled as Adelaide held them. Nathan still couldn't tell where the hell the Director was.

"Remember, my actors, no messing up. My villain, you can't see me right now but I can see you. The shotgun's directed at you."

So this was what it felt like for someone to puncture Nathan's skin and tug at a nerve-end. He didn't find it in him to nod, so all he did was stare at his feet.

"Now relax," the Director continued. "Act One is short, you've read it. It'll be done faster than you think. I want you to be in full character. When I say the act's title and open the curtains, you start."

Nathan clenched his jaw. Relax. Best fucking time for that. One second he was being threatened with a shotgun and the next he had to relax for a psycho's pleasure.

"Act One: The Enchanter and the Enchanted."

Heavy material brushed against the floor. From his place, Nathan stretched his torso and tried peeking at the curtains as they folded and moved in opposite directions. He settled again, glancing at Adelaide on stage; she was shaking, and when he glanced at his hands, he realized that so was he.

The curtains stopped moving. Adelaide's initiative exhale resonated in the emptiness of the stage. She walked towards the other end, bags in her hands, barely capable of balancing them.

Three steps in and she dropped one—the one on the left. Exactly like the script said. The random items inside rolled across the floor like spilled water.

Nathan's turn. His lungs withered the moment he stepped on stage, but he forced himself to move with his shoulders square and spine straight, quickening his pace as Adelaide bent over to pick to the contents of the bag.

"Allow me," Nathan said, fingertips brushing against Adelaide's arm in a halting mannerism. As he crouched, shakily grabbing everything that'd rolled out, Adelaide remained silent.

After shoving them back in the bag, Nathan straightened, and the fear in Adelaide's expression hit him like a punch to the stomach; she hadn't even looked so wrecked when she'd been first thrown in the room.

"Thank you." Adelaide's voice quaked more than her hand as she reached to grab the bag from Nathan. Her accent had never been more noticeable.

Angling the bag away, Nathan said, "What kind of man would I be if I don't help? No need to thank me."

The smile Adelaide was supposed to show now had been described as shy and grateful in the script, but it looked closer to a frown here. The breath caught in Nathan's throat. He prayed the Director wouldn't consider this messing up.

Nothing happened. Nathan exhaled and reached for the other bags in her hands. "I'll help you with the rest."

"There's no need—"

"Hush." Nathan's lips curved softly at both ends as he pried her fingers off another bag and held it. "What's a beautiful woman like you doing under the sun, carrying bags with no one to help? Shame, isn't it, that there are no decent people around here? Of course I won't watch you carry these bags on your own."

Nathan strode past her, bags in his hands, then glanced back. "Will you lead the way? I can help but I can't guess where you're going."

This time, Adelaide's smile could qualify as a semi-proper one. It should've been an impressed kind, but at least she did it. "I'm not going too far," she said and walked beside Nathan.

A little to the front was a small worn bench that looked like it'd snap in half if both of them sat on it. When they neared it, Adelaide stopped right by the armrest and patted it once. "Here, please."

Nathan set the bags down, leaning them against the bench's short leg, then finally straightened again. He swallowed down the lump clogging his throat. So far, everything had gone too worryingly well compared to his suspicions of death.

"Thanks," Adelaide said as she looked at Nathan, then at his briefcase. "You were going to work, weren't you? I must've tired you with this—"

"You've thanked me twice already. Isn't that too much for such a little thing?" Nathan carefully reached for her fingertips and held them, guiding her hand up to his mouth until he could peck her knuckles. He glanced at her through his lashes, lips curving into the assigned chivalrous smile against her skin. "It's my pleasure to help you."

Brow cocked, Adelaide angled her chin to one side. Nathan was kinda surprised she remembered this detail. "What a gentleman," she mumbled. "I haven't met one in a long time."

Nathan let her hand down again, making them both relax. Kissing Adelaide's knuckles was a bit too uncomfortably awkward for him. He knew she must've felt the same.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Nathan held eye-contact with her, and this close, he saw two things: the terror in her eyes and the reflection of his.

"It is a compliment."

"Valuable one, if it's coming out of a woman like you." Nathan sighed, and it came out with an unintentional tremor. "I need to go now. Are you gonna stay here or . . . ?"

"My friend is coming to pick me up, don't worry."

Nathan hummed, eyes briefly skimming the floor before catching Adelaide's again. "Well then, goodbye."

"Goodbye."

The word didn't carry enough subtle melancholy but Nathan turned his back on her anyway, finalizing the act. If she was accurately following the script, she'd have to be staring at him in a specifically smitten way. It made sense relative to the title. Enchanted. What a cliché.

"End of Act One," the Director said aloud, his voice ricocheting across the entire stage. Then, solely through the earpiece, he whispered, "Stand on the marks again, my actors, and bow to the audience. Exactly on the marks."

Nathan finally discovered what real relief felt like. Shoulders relaxed, he faced forwards for the first time since he'd stepped on stage, and suddenly everything crashed over his head again.

Nathan squinted; several thin iron chords stretched from the left extremity of the stage to the right. Like horizontal prison bars. Hopping off the platform and running instantly became an impossibility.

Nathan almost whimpered, suddenly feeling like someone cracked two ribs in him and bent them in against his heart. The iron constriction made him feel even more confined. He looked away, trying not to focus on the idea because he knew his anxiety could escalate fast.

"Nathan?"

Only when Adelaide hesitantly touched his arm did he escape his trance. Shaking his head, as if orienting his senses again, Nathan quickly walked up to the stage-front and stood right over his X.

There, Nathan bowed to the non-existent audience (at least none that he could see midst the murky darkness there) behind the iron chords. He lifted his chin, stared at the ceiling, sighing heavily. At least they survived. The entire act burnt around three nerves in him, but they survived nonetheless.

When he looked at Adelaide, she was smiling for once, almost teary-eyed like she couldn't believe they'd managed. "Can you believe we did it?" she whispered.

Nathan almost lost her words to the crash of his pulse in his chest. "No, honestly. I kinda can't believe—"

A weird noise sounded, like a thick rope cut off. Nathan frowned. Before he could even move, something heavy grazed his arm and slammed against the floor, making his entire system jolt. He cautiously turned and glanced at his left where the object had dropped, only to find a sandbag slumped on the floor.

Nathan subconsciously looked above him, then back at the sandbag. It could've landed right on his head. Could've almost crushed him. Just a centimeter away.

"Dammit," the Director said, sinister voice tugging at Nathan's composure. Nathan glanced at the opposite end of the stage, and he found a familiar silhouette standing there. "I missed."

Nathan turned his neck enough so he'd look at Adelaide. His smile couldn't have been more out of place. "I've never felt safer."

__________

a/n: fun fact, when i first created this book's idea, i was about to abandon it bc i felt i wouldn't be able
to write them performing the act in a proper way. So thoughts? Did you like it?

This chapter's dedicated to Midnight_Kaiulanis for being one of my most active readers and always leaving loads of comments. ❤️

Thanks for reading/voting/commenting!!