Chapter Text
Cold paint splatters on John's hand as he narrows his eyes incredulously. "I wasn't planning on being covered in paint today."
Roxy's head pops up. "Planning? Were you planning on getting detention with your beautiful theatre teacher at all?"
"Well, no," John admits as a hand paps his shoulder.
"I asked the art teacher for washable paint. Thinking ahead," Jane says, tapping her head with the back of her paint brush in her other hand.
"You don't got to baby me, Janey," Ms. Lalonde pouts, engrossed in her painting once again. Her mouth hangs open slightly, probably a thing she does when she's concentrating.
"I can't help it, you're cute as a button," Jane argues with mock frustration.
With a long brush stroak of bright blue where a clear sky is slowly being formed, the boy stands up with his hands on his hips. "It actually looks pretty good!"
"Damn right," Ms. Lalonde agrees. Flecks of paint dot the cotours of her beaming visage. "I was thinking about the play and I think you would be a perfect fit for Romeo."
John raises an eyebrow. Frankly, he's quite confused. That seems to happen a lot. "Me?"
"Yeah!" Ms. Lalonde confirms excitedly.
He deliberates the proposal.
"Alright," He finally says, deciding to give it a shot. He never thought he would get into any plays if he auditioned, but if he was given the role, he might as well see what he can do. He hopes he isn't putting anyone out.
"Excellent!" She pops up from her crouching position with an excited grin. "I have another student in mind for the second starring role. Would you mind helping me at auditions this afternoon?"
"Um sure!" He accepts.
John thinks this escalated quickly.
Jane is sitting on the floor with a neutral expression on her face. Apparently she's used to the lady's shenanigans.
The school day passes nearly as swiftly as John was pulled into the situation. The dismissal bell rings, releasing the hoard of teenagers at every classroom door. A lone straggler swings his backpack over his shoulder from his desk and saunters into the hall. The bespectacled misfit makes his way to the auxilary gym across the school where the auditions are being held. A swarm of kids are congregated by the door, waiting and chattering to one another with anticipation.
The boy leans against the wall across the hall from the clump of people. He'd rather not get involved, and one stranger in all black seems to agree.
A minute passes before one door opens and out comes the quirky pink-eyed teacher. "John, Karkat!" She pushes through the crowd and ushers John and his fellow wallflower inside.
"Ms. L-," John begins, but he is cut off by the seemingly flustered woman he was attempting to address.
"Please, call me Roxy," She says quickly, waving a hand dismissively. "This is going to take a while so I hope you're ready. Be as un-biased as possible for every student yadda yadda yadda okay go sit."
Three folding chairs and a table are placed at the back wall. John and the goth guy take their seats, leaving a spot in the middle.
The two teens sneak side-glances, observing.
Karkat appears different to say the least. His skin is pale. Only his face and hands are not covered by clothing. His plain black shirt, black jacket, black jeans, and black hair are puzzling. His eyes are... red? With tired dark circles.
The blue-eyed boy settles in as Roxy shows a student in.
Karkat sighs. Roxy didn't pick a very good teacher's pet, he thinks. For God's sake, the guy almost as buck teeth and he seems like an unbelievable idiot. He better have serious talent, his cutesy smile full of braces and bullshit is almost obnoxious by itself. John's messy black hair does look good with his dorky glasses and cerulean eyes, Karkat admits silently.
Roxy sits and pulls up to the table with a scraping noise and an encouraging smile. The girl trying out clears her throat with a self conacious shuffle of the feet then begins to sing. Her voice is pretty good, John thinks it's neutral like his own. Like, good enough to sound sweet and not break ear drums.
As for Karkat, he writes her name and a 4/10 in his notebook. John realizes Karkat and Roxy are taking notes and grabs the pad of sticky notes on the table. Improvising.
The song comes to an end and Ms. Roxy claps. The boys follow suit. She gives a shy smile.
"Okay, wonderful job, I hope you've practiced your waltz!"
The girl nods as Karkat stands up, much to John's surprise. He didn't think Karkat would be the dancing type.
Roxy clicks play on the CD player which seems to have appeared out of nowhere. John blinks as the music starts and the mysterious-looking boy begins to dance with the grace of a professional on TV. Crisp yet fluid movements leave the nerdy teen awe struck. They spin about the room, somehow manifesting beauty in the somewhat anticlimactic gym. Something flutters in John's chest.
Too soon the shortened dance comes to an end, Roxy gives a round of applause, Karkat sits back down, and the girl takes her leave before John even knows what hit him.
"Wow, Karkat, you have real talent," John compliments as the next person comes in.
"Thanks," He says in his scratchy voice and faces the "stage" again. Easily impressed, he thinks.
John pays little attention to the next performances other than Karkat's dancing. He wonders about the weird feeling and sudden optimism towards the future friendship between he and Karkat. He hopes Karkat doesn't dislike him.
Before too long, auditions are over and they're free to go. Not having had lunch, John finds himself more than a little peckish. Roxy stays behind to pack up so she bids them farewell. Exiting the gym's back door, they come out into a dark hall near the cafeteria. It's silent, save a faint electric buzz from the old vending machine.
A husky voice comes from behind John. "Want some Skittles?"
Karkat nonchalantly walks past and puts some quarters in the vending machine.
"Oh, sure I guess," John says with hesitation. His voice is slightly louder and higher, standing out in the din.
Two packs of Skittles drop down with a clack. Retrieving the candy, Karkat slides down the wall next to the machine to sit with his legs crossed and a sigh. He looks at John expectantly.
Joining Karkat, John tries to relax. He finds it difficult with Karkat glaring at him like that.
They stare at eachother until Karkat snorts and looks away to open his Skittles. "Anyway, what's your deal?"
John blinks, a little self conscious. "What do you mean?"
"With Roxy, are you in the play too?" Karkat asks, munching on a Skittle.
"She just gave me a part, I don't know what's up with her but I accepted," John says. "Not much to it. What's your deal?"
"I am a pursuer of the fine arts," Karkat informs him.
"Funny, from your looks I wouldn't have pegged you as that type of guy," John says with a curious tone. "You're so good, too."
A hint of a smile appears on Karkat's face for a second, but is quickly suppressed. Taking note of this, John puts on a sly smile. He acts all uptight, but he's actually cute, he thinks to himself.
"And what are you so pleased with yourself for?" Kar inquires angrily.
The nerdy kid snickers and shakes his head. "Nothing!"
Karkat turns away, eating a skittle in a huff. John finds this mildly comical. What a funny guy.
"Anyway," Karkat rolls his eyes. "I really hate to ask some dorky stranger for their number right off the bat, but communication is pertinent when putting on a show. Seeing as the two of us are the leads somehow, we need contact."
"Okay," John says as Karkat gets out a pen and rips a corner off the homework in his bag. "Jeez, you're really serious about your theatre."
"Damn straight," He says with sass, scribbling his name and cell number on the scrap. He hands it over and stands up with a grunt, swinging his bag over one shoulder. "Well, I'll be seeing you."
"Bye," John says, waving and standing up himself. With his bag on his back he stashes the skittles away in his pocket and hurries outside to catch his ride.
John scans the parking lot and spots his Dad pulled up to the curb in no time. He's always early. The boy shuffles over, opens the passenger door with a familiar ca-chunk, and throws his bag in the foot well.
Before getting in, he looks around for Karkat. There's no sign of him.
With a shrug, he sits and closes the door.
"How was school?" Dad asks warmly, as usual.
"Good," John nods, trying not to be passive. He knows it's rude but the daily routine is such a drag sometimes. It's not like anything really changes around here.
"What did you do after school?" Dad asks, pulling out of the lot.
"I was some kind of judge for the school play auditions," John says thoughtfully. "I don't know why, but the teacher likes me so I got a part?"
"Wonderful," Dad says, watching the road.
John suppresses a sigh and leans on the door, watching the dull suburban scenery whiz by. Today was a long day.