Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

So, I decided to write a theater Sally Face AU because yes, why not?

So, here's the roles ahead of time so nobody gets confused.

Travis Phelps - Elijah Rager

Sal Fisher - Parker Burnham

Neil - Brian Rager

Ashely Campbell - Cindy Washington 

-

Stage Crew

Ashely Campbell - Director & Stage Manager

Todd Morrison - Lights and Music

Larry - Music & Background Vocals

Maple Cohen - Makeup

Chug Cohen - Music and Costumes

Phillip - Set Design

Okay, everyone got it? Good, let's get on with it then.

Chapter Text

How did he get here, next to Travis, on this stage, under a spotlight?

It was commonly known that Sal wasn’t shy by any means, saying whatever was on his mind if it was appropriate to say it. In the eyes of everyone, he had some for, of confidence and respect for himself as a person, which is why Travis never actually successfully bullied him. Not without an chiding remark here, or a sarcastic joke there.

But it was known how much Sal didn’t like being under spotlights, on stages. He preferred to stay backstage, to watch everything happen knowing that he pretty much made it happen by being backstage, behind the scenes.

So it was no surprise that Sal was staying after school, almost seven months ago, yet again to help Ash with her new play she was writing. The title being a song she and Larry made, which Sal thought was pretty fucking awesome.

”Who’s the main character?” He asked, instead of signing. Ashley didn’t understand ASL, and as much as it was harder for Sal, he didn't wanna be a bother and complain.

”A boy with internalized homophobia named Elijah,” She answered as she printed out the flyers. “I wanted this play to be, I dunno, a symbol for actual problems. Anxiety, depression, body dysphoria, you get my drift?”

Sal nodded, as the brown-haired girl smiled, handing him a stack of flyers and some tape. “Can you do me this favor and put these flyers all over school for me?” Ash asked, the other nodding.

”Anything for you, Ash.” He mumbled, before stumbling out of the music room, considering the huge amount of flyers in his arms. At one point, the girl called after him, asked if he needed any help. But all she got was a head shake, and Sal was one his way.

Putting up the flyers, wasn’t that difficult.

In turns out, when it comes to something he actually likes, Sal is a pretty fast and neat worker. He was on the last thirty flyers, putting a few on the school bulletin board when his head jerked up, his skin slowly getting covered in goose flesh.

That meant someone was usually behind him, and having crazy peripheral vision helped plenty in situations like this.

That person stepped closer, and Sal kept putting his flyers up, pretty much ignoring the person behind him until they reached out a hand towards him.

Instincts kicked in, and Sal dropped the flyers and grabbed the person’s wrist, more tightly than he would’ve liked.

Sal sighed, before he turned around with a bored glint in his eye. “Hi Travis.” 

-

There was only one thing that went through the blonde’s mind when his wrist was grabbed.

When the fuck did Sal get this strong? Gripping so tight, it felt like he could break the boy’s wrist if he actually wanted to.

That thought was terrifying

Travis tried to yank himself out of the blue-haired boy’s grip, getting to no avail. He tried again, Sal only tilting his head like a confused puppy at him.

”L-Let go of me, freak!” It was only when he shouted, that Sal let go, send the boy on his bottom.

It was supposed to be easy. Travis saw Sal, that freak with blue hair in pigtails in overalls and a long sleeved shirt, just putting up flyers for the stupid drama club.

As if anyone would actually sign up.

Seeing this as an opportunity, Travis decided to play a game of catch, just with Sal’s hearing aids. Slowly, he walked up to him, steps being silent as he possibly knew how. That’s why people didn’t like Travis, besides the fact he was a bully. It was how silent his steps were, nearly getting punched in the face by Larry just because he accidentally snuck up on him to ask him for a highlighter. 

He paused when Sal’s head jerked up, seeing his hair on his neck practically rise.

Good lord, what was this guy? A cat?

Then, he just resumed back to what he was doing, and just when Travis was about to take it, fucking Sally Face grabbed his wrist, like he had eyes in the back of his head or some shit.

Sal approached him, arms crossed as he looked down at Travis. “Now, if you can explain to me in one sentence your reasoning for attempting to take my hearing aids and why you thought it was a good idea, I might just not tell the principal.”

If Sal told the principal, this would get Travis suspended. If he got suspended, then he would get in trouble with his dad. And if he got in trouble with his dad-

Travis didn’t wanna think about that right now.

He had a million reasons, a thousand things to say, a hundred excuses. Everything bubbling in his throat and dying, leading it only quiet stammers to come out, and Sal tilted his head again.

“Yeah, you know Travis, I honestly don’t get it either.” He signed and spoke at the same time. “As much as I would love to get on your nerves right now, I’ve got a job to do. Can you leave me alone?”

Travis just scoffed, before getting up and dusting himself off, despite having no dust on himself.

”Fine,” He said. “The hell you’re even posting flyers of anyway?” It wasn’t like Travis was interested or anything, but he was naturally curious about some things. A trait that never quite went away, no matter how much his father tried to shave his flaws.

Sal just handed him a flyer out of his overall pocket. “Ash’s writing a new play,” He told him. “Anyone who participates gets extra credit, if you really contribute thought, they’ll give you A’s on your classes.”

Travis’s eyes perked up in the grades part. His father was always complaining about his grades, in fact, that was what he got yelled at for that morning.

And his father did let him be on the choir at church, so maybe it wouldn’t be half bad. And it said you had to participate, on stage or backstage was never specified.

”What?” Sal teased, the smile evident in his tone as he signed. “Thinking of joining?” 

Travis felt his face get red as he pulled the flyer close to his chest. “No way, in your gay ass dreams.” He said. He saw how Sal put his hands in false surrender, but his eyes crinkled, the blue hazed in clear amusement that he wasn’t planning on hiding.

”Okay, okay. But the offer is gonna be available for a long time, so you’ve got time to think about it.” Sal told him, picking up the rest of the flyers, before walking away. “See ya soon.” He called, waving as Travis looked back at the flyer.

He would just be backstage. He would only be backstage.

Besides, stage crew wasn’t that bad, he told himself. The bell rung, and Travis stuffed the flyer in his pocket before walking to his next class.

-

The first time Travis heard Sal sing was in auditorium room.

It was two days after their little encounter, and after many, many internalized battles, Travis decided peace not pride and decided to join the drama club. What? Travis would wear a dress to get his dad off his ass.

Ash said they had to wait for someone to help Travis and show him the ropes, said she choose the person with the best possible voice who was already in Drama Club. It made Travis think, who could it possibly be? Maybe a girl? Was it someone he didn’t know? Travis wouldn’t say he knew everyone in the entire school, but he knew a considerable amount of people, half of them he’s fought before.

” When's this mystery person coming?” He asked.

”Soon.” Ash replied, writing something down from another notebook as she sat at a piano. Travis tilted his head. “What’re you writing?”

”Sal’s notes,” She replied. “Not only do we make theater productions possible, but we also help each other study in free time. I assume that’s why you’re here?”

Travis huffed. “Obviously.”

”I thought so. But I always like to see a person’s singing skills before I let them into the drama club.” She told him, making Travis shoot up out of his seat. 

“No. I said I wanted to be backstage, that’s it!” He yelled.

”A particular reason why?” The long-haired girl asked, not taking her eyes of the notebook.

”Because I’m not a fag!” Travis shouted, as seeming the first time in forever, Ashley lifted her head. 

“Larry sings but he’s straight as an arrow.” She countered, as Travis bawled up his fist. Of course, he knew that. Of course, singing didn’t make anyone gay, but acting did. He saw the at his father sneered and held his nose up at male actors.

”Bless their soul Lord, show them right from wrong.” He would say, as Travis sat in the kitchen, doing bible study.

”I’m not a fag.” He repeated. 

“You seem very keen to make that known, Travis.” She replied, infuriating Travis even more. She had been spending too much time around Sally Face. Or had Sally Face been spending too much time around her? No, he knew that level of sass from anywhere. That was definitely his influence.

”I’m not gonna sing and dance in shiny outfits like a fucking jackass,” Travis said, teeth gritted. “Put the goddamn script down, you judgmental wannabe director.”

Ashley set the script down, crossing her arms and staring the other down. “Do you wanna be in the drama club or not?”

No response.

” Do you wanna be in the drama club or not?!” Ash raised her voice, making Travis tense up. “Don’t yell at me!” He demanded.

Ashley raised an eyebrow, Travis’s resolve quickly falling. It felt like he was being scolded, which wasn’t exactly far from the truth.

He sighed. “Yes, I wanna be in the drama club.” He admitted, as Ashley nodded. “Then start acting like it, Travis. Regardless if you’re on-stage or backstage, you’re still gonna need a mentor.” She told him as she got up.

” So, are you gonna mentor me?” The blonde asked.

” Oh, hell no. I’ve got low tolerance, and you’re constantly testing it. No offense.” She told him, as Travis just grumbled a ‘none taken’ before near the light switch, Ashley pushed a button.

” But I know someone who’s an excellent teacher when it comes down to it.” She told him, before the intercoms turned on.

” Office?” A woman answered.

” Hi, I’m Ashley Campbell, I’m the president of the Drama Club?” She told the woman, who almost squealed at the title. Ashley was known for most of the school’s successful plays.

” Oh, Ms. Campbell!” The woman said. “What can I do for you?”

” Can you send Sal Fisher to the music room, 234 please?”

Oh no.

-

"And then, you just set it like this, okay?" Sal told the sophomore, who was in the same art class as him, as Sal fidgeting with his rings on paint-covered hands. Then, he saw the sophomore's eyes go behind him, before a teacher was tapping him on the shoulder.

"Sal, they just called you on the intercoms," She signed. "You have to go to room 234."

Sal nodded, looking back at the kid and promising to help them with their lantern later, before he got out of his seat, grabbed the hall pass and walked downstairs. His school was only three stories, so it wasn't hard to find room 234, the music room. Or aka, the Drama Club meeting room.

"You guys called for me?" He announced, as he walked into the room, seeing Ashley by the piano and Travis, in a seat five feet from her.

Oh great. Church boy.

"Nice to see you again, Travis." Was what he signed and spoke instead, as the blonde-haired boy just sized him up. He knew how he probably looked, hands covered in paint and fragments of hot glue, his overalls were covered it paint also, his hair in a high ponytail. It was pretty hard, always having to speak things while signing them, because some people were too ignorant to actually learn the language and make Sal's life just a tiny bit easier.

It was infuriating. Travis was infuriating.

But alas, our dear Sal was way too nice to actually say it.

"Sal," Ashley called, turning the boy's attention onto her. "Travis needs a mentor, because he wants to be backstage. You know Todd, Larry and I are damn well not gonna teach him, so..."

There was a look in Sal's eyes that just said, "So you shackle me with my personal bully?"

The look on Ashley's face responded with "Yeah, we're really sorry Sal."

Sal rolled his eyes, turning to Travis. "So, you wanna learn how to operate backstage?" He asked, getting a nod from the other. "Well, I was just in class, but I could give you a short tour so at least you know where you're going."

Travis just scoffed, before getting up.

Geez, his height never failed to amaze Sal. Or maybe Sal was just short.

Nonetheless, Sal opened the door, gesturing out towards it. "After you." He said, making the boy scowl even more. Ashley offered a thumbs up, Sal only gave her a glare.

-

"And this is where Todd's usually at," Sal pointed to a metal bridge just above everything else. "He's always near the ladder, just watching everything. Any questions?" He asked, Travis looking up as he shook his head, still in slight awe, before Sal started humming.

Maybe he was just bored? Or maybe he was like Larry, humming to just hum.

" Out of touch, in harmony, " He sang softly, walking around the stage as Travis just watched. " Designer drugs on dead end streets. Break the air to feel the fall, or just feel anything at all."

When was Sal such a great singer?

But Travis didn't ask that. "What kinda song is that?"

"A song Ash and Larry made." Sal told him. "It's called Sex, Drugs, Etc."

Of-fucking-course.

"It's the name of her play," Sal began. "I could give you the mixtape if you wanted it."

Yeah, as if. Travis sneered in his head.

"I'm good, thanks." He said, as Sal shrugged before the bell had rang. "Welp, I guess that's our que. See you around, church boy." He waved, hopping off the stage and walking towards the doors. Travis's next class was here anyway, and Sal probably knew that.

"Fucking creep," Travis muttered, as the doors flew open and kids started walking it.

-

It was after school.

Travis already had called his dad; said he was staying after school for a study lab. Thankfully, his father asked no questions and agreed to pick him up at a later time, so now Travis was in room 234. 

Travis didn’t know how he got into this situation. One minute he’s minding his business, next he’s being asked by Ash to sing for her play, so she knows it sounds good. He eyed the lyrics and cringed at how lovey dovey they had sounded to him.

” And give me a reason on why I should do this exactly? With Sally Face as well?” Travis pointed out, arms crossed as a particular bluenette he was talking about turned towards him, clearly offended. “Calm your tits, Travis.” He signed. “Please! I’ll give you both 100 dollars apiece!” She offered. That convinced Travis alone, and Sal was one of the people that knew.

Other than money or food, Travis wasn’t really all that complicated. "Fine, but if you tell anyone about this-“

” I won’t! This stays between us. Todd helped me with music so all I need is lyrics.” She slid two pieces of paper with lyrics on it and put in a cassette tape. Travis wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the music was actually good. Good guitar riff and everything.

” Oh! Uhm, kiss me hard before you go, summertime sadness? ” Ashley nodded as Travis smiled at that drop in the beat. “I just wanted to you to know, that baby you're the best .” He didn’t quite understand how people sung with other people in the room so he pretended they weren’t there, it helped. 

" I got that summertime, summertime sadness, S-summertime, summertime sadness. Got that summertime, summertime sadness, Oh, oh-oh oh-oh. " Sal was quite surprised, where the hell was Travis hiding these singing skills? Not like he liked them or anything, but they were good. Not perfect, but good, especially with the overlap.

Sal cleared his throat, already knowing the lyrics by heart. " I think I'll miss your forever," He sang. " Like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky...Later's better than never,"

" S-summertime, summertime sadness,"

"Even if you're gone, I'm gonna drive..."

Mr. Davis, that one drama teacher who never wore shoes in the classrooms was walking with a script Ashley wrote, as he approached drama club, he heard two boys singing in there, rather beautifully he might as well add. 

" I've got that summertime, summertime sadness. S-summertime, summertime sadness. Got that summertime, summertime sadness. Oh, oh-oh oh-oh."  Travis took a breath, as he and Sal finished the song.

" Kiss me hard before you go, " He began.

Sal huffed a bit, a smile on his face. " Summertime sadness, " He followed.

" I just wanted you to know,"

" That baby, you're the best. "

When the final note played, Travis set down his script, glad to get it over with. Mr. Davis entered as they stopped, Travis embarrassed, and Sal surprised. Travis hoped he hadn’t heard him. Though it was a stupid hope, he still hoped.

” Miss Campbell? I have your scripts printed out.” Mr. Davis said, rather awkwardly, still amazed. How could two students who couldn’t stand each other were so good together was a question with too little possible answers. Ashley quickly got up and thanked the teacher as she flipped through it, making sure everything was right. “Uhm, who are the two of you?” He asked.

” Oh, I’m Sal Fisher. And this is Travis Phelps.” Travis’s brows furrowed as he got annoyed. “I’m not a child, Sally Face, I can introduce my own goddamn self.” The other turned towards him. “Yeah, well you look like one. And that can go a long way.”

” Says the actual one who looks like a fucking twelve-year-old.” Sal felt his fist tighten. “You ever considered it was because of the fact you’re a literal fucking oak tree? Big and tall, but not that very wise if you get my drift.” Sal signed and made his voice loud enough to hear.

And they were back.

But that moment had never left Mr. Davis’s mind. “Ahem.” Travis cleared his throat. Ashley sighed and handed him about 100 dollars before he grabbed his bag and went on his way. Ash handed Sal a hundred dollars before he too got his bag and thanked her.

”Mr. Davis. I made a list on the auditions and casted some people, but there is something I can’t still quite do.” Ashley said, clearly frustrated. “Leave it to me, okay? I’ll put posters up tomorrow.” The drama teacher informed the young girl before she gave him a hug and gathered her stuff. “Thanks Mr. Davis! I owe you one.”

He watched her head out, with a particular idea in his mind and the determination to do it.

-

The next day, posters were all over school, so it was only a matter of time before Travis and Sal saw it, confused and angered at the matter, so both weren’t that surprised when they saw the other angrily waiting in the Drama Club alongside them.

“Sir, with all due respect, I have to ask you,” Sal began. “Why do I have sing with the homophobic bully? AGAIN? He doesn't even wanna be onstage?” He signed.

Travis really didn't have much to retort back with that, so he settled for an angry face and a huff. He never liked Drama Club or the people in it. He definitely did not want to do this. 

"Sal, oh um, Travis translate for me?" The drama teacher, Mr. Evans, gestured towards Travis who only scoffed in response. "He can understand you, Mr. Davis." He told him.

The teacher flushed pink, due to embarrassment. "O-Oh. Oh, Sal, I am so sorry-"

"It's fine, Mister, I'm used to it." Sal signed and spoke at the same time, so his teacher could understand him. "But what were you going to say?"

"Maybe the experience will help you two see eye to eye on things more. Like personal views!" Mr. Davis reasoned.

"Seriously?" Sal deadpanned. "Mister, he doesn't like me."

"Yes, it's true, I don't." Travis said, as Sal turned to him.

"I was just saying-" He began. "Yeah, and I was just confirming." Travis said, a slight smug smile on his face.

Two can play the sass game, Sally Face.

Mr. Davis just looked at the way they interacted. "You guys used to be friends? Date?"

"Oh, heaven forbid-" Sal started, as Travis's face clenched into utter disgust. "No. Just...no." The drama teacher groaned, hands in his face. "Y'know, how about we call parents and see what they think?"

Travis rolled his eyes, despite being tense at the mentions of parents while Sal groaned. "Wait - just wait, I'll do it. Don't bring my dad into this, please."

Travis scoffed. But...he signed the paper, confirming he would be onstage, Sal doing the same. No matter how much they hated drama club and everyone in it, Travis didn't need his dad thinking he was a fucking pansy or something. And Sal...he didn't know too much about Sal.

"Can we go now?"

The teacher sighed.

"You two are excused. Meet me in study hall to discuss things."

And Travis was out of there.

Chapter Text

After the whole thing, Sal began showing up more often during spare time. To spend time with Ashley and learn more about the character he was playing as, it helped.

”Sal, guess what?” Ashley asked, clearly excited. “Uhm, you have a new song idea?” The boy guessed. “Nope! A interviewer is coming to interview the school and they heard about my play!”

Sal couldn’t believe it, a critic. That was awesome, for Ashley and the school. But more for Ashley. “Awesome! Want me to do something to help?” He asked. “Yeah, go get Maple, Todd, Larry, Phillip, Chug and..you’re not gonna like this.”

 “Who, Ashley?” He pressed.

”Travis. Please?” Sal rolled his eyes at the mention of the bully but nodded his head. “Sure, no problem.”

It was kinda a bad habit Sal had. Whenever his friends asked him for something, he would do it. Except to kill himself or hurt himself physically, that’s a no, and killing.

Maybe a pass on the killing part, depends who and why.

-

After getting most of the people on Ashley’s list, the last one was Travis.

That stupid, catholic, stuck up, stubborn Travis.

Sal had an idea where Travis might be, and on his way there, it had appeared he was wrong. Travis was by the lockers, writing something down.

”Hey, Phelps!” Sal yelled that got the boys attention. “Wake up and smell the coffee brewing, we have to get downstairs.” Travis grumbled. “For what? And why should I?” 

“There’s a reporter coming and they probably want to interview all the students. Get up.” Sal signed, already annoyed. “Fuck off. I’m not going to that stupid drama club so why don’t you do me a favor, make like your mother,”

Here it comes.

”And go fucking SIX FEET UNDER.”

Sal wanted to hit him, bash his head against one of the lockers, leave a dent and give the bastard a concussion. But he couldn’t, no, that would make things a whole lot worse. So what could or should he do?

Then an idea popped into Sal’s head. He didn’t wanna do this, but if Travis went low, so would he, just this once.

“Yeah, well at least I have a father who actually doesn’t think I’m a failure.” Yeah, Sal deeply regretted that, he wasn’t the type to talk about people’s families but payback is payback. Whether he had to stoop to a lower level or not. 

It was pure silence, a calm before a storm, Ashley would call it.

Then that storm happened. He got up and started yelling, yelling so much. So what did Sal do?

He yelled back, even louder and made himself appear louder aswell, eventually leading to a fight between the two, it didn’t help they were by a staircase either. The fight continued until, out of pure anger, Sal pushed Travis away from him. 

Then he felt a hand grab his ankle, before he new it, he was falling down said staircase along the person he hated most. Past everything, of three flights of stairs.

It felt like they were falling forever, until they both tumbled into the open drama club door, Sal pinning the other down to the floor. Until realization hit his head.

Everyone was there, including the reporter, who just looked down at the two. Realization hit Travis aswell, this was the woman who was joining the cult, Melanie was her name, wasn’t it? He had to make a good first impression.

He immediately got Sal off of him, which wasn’t hard as the bluenette was already getting up, dusting his jeans while Travis straighten his shirt, making sure he looked somewhat in the ball park of presentable.

”My name is Sal Fisher, I’m one of the actors in Ashley’s play.”

”My name is Travis Phelps, I’m one of the actors in Ashley’s play.”

They both said quickly and simultaneously, turning to each other wondering what the heck was going on before turning back onto the crowd who had the same look on their faces.

”Nice to meet you, Mr. Phelps and Mr. Fisher.” Melanie said, not fazed by the sudden simultaneous response. “I already met Ms. Campbell and the others and I would like I know, what happened up there?” 

Good first impression. Both knew they couldn’t just say what happened, so maybe a lie that’s believable would work. “We were just playing around.” Travis said with a nervous smile. “Ya know?”

“Really? Are you both okay?” She asked.

Travis had a few bruises and so did Sal, but it wasn’t all that bad. They had been through much worse, and lucky for them; they had high pain tolerances.

”Yeah, we’re fine.” Sal said dismissively. “So, whatcha think? Of the school?” He asked. “I apologize for not making, well the best impression.”

The woman smiled. “No worries, I’ve seen everything I need to see. Thank you for having me.” Sal was a bit confused, why was she leaving so soon? He thought she was interviewing every student. His line of thought came to a stop when the door closed and Larry rushed to Sal.

”I know damn well you and Travis weren’t playing so what the hell happened?” He asked. Typical Larry. “Motherfucker tried to one up me and when I pushed him, he grabbed my ankle and made-“

”-both of us fall down the stairs. It was all stupid Sally Face’s fault.” Travis told Phillip who listened intently. “Mhm. Gotcha blondie.” He said. “But-“

“Okay, but are you alright?” Ashley asked Sal from across the room. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Travis and Sal said simultaneously and quickly once again. Mr Davis heard it, everyone did, making all conversations and small talk come to an complete halt.

”Will you stop doing that?!” Travis yelled. “Me?! I’m not doing anything, so get off my case Phelps!” Sal yelled back.

“You first Fisher!” The blonde yelled again, and Sal was about to respond when everyone heard a loud and booming voice, full of authority.

”Enough, both of you.” The drama teacher commanded. “It’s getting late, get some rest and rehearsals start tomorrow. Okay?” The teens nodded. “Now, I have work to do. Please leave.”

As the teens went their separate ways, Larry popped the question. “Sleepover at yours?”

”Yeah, sure.”

-

“Why are people such jerks?” Sal asked as Ashley did his hair and some of the others laughed. “You’re not thinking about Travis are you?”

”What? No! Not the bastard.” Sal crossed his arms. “He’s always so defensive!” 

“You’re telling me. He’s so mean too, meaner than Mami when she’s mad, and that is saying something!” Larry stated. “And he’s always picking on you! Like doesn’t he have anything better to do?! He’s SO annoying!”

”Yeah, I was surprised he called me my actual name today!” Ashley said.

“And he’s always wearing that dusty purple sweater, and those stupid green converse, and that stupid cross around his neck! I hate it, I hate HIM.” Sal tossed a pillow to Todd. “The bastard makes me wanna tear my hair out.” The ginger then passed the pillow to Ashley, who caught with with her right hand.

”He’s an asshole.” She threw the pillow to Larry. “Some stuck up brat who’s a papi’s boy! He makes so many comments about MY dad, why can’t he just go away?” He passed the pillow to Maple.

“He makes fun of the way I dress, he is really mean.” She passed the pillow to Chug. “He really needs to learn to fuck off some time, he makes comments about my weight and my hair! He walks down and up the halls like he owns the fucking place!”

Finally, the pillow was passed back to Sal. “Our lives suck and he’s kinda making it worse. I don’t want him to die, just to..leave me alone sometime.” Ashley sighed as she added another braid to Sal’s hair. “And that’s perfectly valid and a reasonable opinion. That why no one likes him.”

Sal stayed quiet before muttering. “..maybe that’s the problem.”

-

Travis hated this.

He hated a lot of things, really, but he also hated being in the room they used for drama club with this director or whatever telling him what to do with the Sally face. 

The teacher was chewing on his pen, which Travis in fact found gross.

"How about you guys rehearse the song and think about acting later, alright?"
 
“Fine. Luckily, I brought my hearing aids today.” Sal said. “So let’s get this over with, yeah Travis?”

Travis scoffed, crossing his arms and looking away. He should have never agreed to this ever. He looked down at the packet with the lyrics on it, groaning. Why did God hate him so much?

You already know why. Travis’s brain hissed at him.

“Not now…” Travis said through gritted teeth.  "But Sally Face is right. For the first time in forever."

Mr. Evans sighed.

"No name calling Travis, okay? Just start, alright."

Sal heard the up-beat tune on the piano, slightly moving his head as he heard it. “Travis, you actually go first.”

"Oh- uh. Okay."

Travis hated singing, with all his might. He was in the church choir for a few years so maybe his voice was alright, but singing in front of people on his own made his hands all clammy.

He coughed a bit before beginning.

"I just really hate your face-"

“You look like you’re from outer space.” What, the song was basically insulting the other. So what if Sal was having a little fun? I mean, what’s really the harm?

"Though I know that won't surprise you."

Travis. Hated. This. People sang in front of others for fun? Really? That was just the fucking dumbest thing he had ever heard.

“So I must antagonize you!” Yeah, this was fun. Plus, on the contrary, it was true.

"But to me your skin is one giant wart-"

He didn't like just having to stand there while Sally face of all people looked like he was having the time of his life.

"Thought, I'd let you know…" Sal signed again, while singing a bit. Waiting for that specific key tone. But god, this was getting way to fun. Sal knows he was enjoying this too much but seriously, who is wouldn't though is the question that might never be answered. It seemed there was a different glint in his eyes other than happinesses. Perhaps passive aggressiveness?

"And your laughs one big snort, and you stink, so in short,”

Travis glared at him, making a bit of an angry gesture before turning away and continuing to sing his line.

”I despise you.” True. From both parts. Wasn’t it?

"You disgrace the human race." Travis sang back to his monotone voice.

"My apologies, Your Grace." Sal signed and sang with clear sarcasm, taking a short bow.

" 'Cause you're more of a mosquito." Travis rolled his eyes once again.

”I could kick you to Toledo!” Sal sang in response.

"I would rather have the dentist and drill,” Travis continued, keeping his eyes on his paper.

"I, could murder you," Sal sung this time, waiting for the specific tune. "Then this swine in the swill and if you were a bill, I would veto.” Travis glared at the other, but of course, Sal payed it zero mind.

" And live life incognito! " Sal sung, rolling his sleeves up halfway and signing a bit more aggressively.

"And if the world was perfect." Both continued, simultaneously. “ You would be gone without a trace, but since the world could never be that great, I'll just hate your stupid face."

"Doo-doo-doo." Travis turned around, not facing Sal anymore.

“Doo-doo-doo!” Sal sang with a smile, or in his case, various doos of undying hatred. “So, how was that Mr. Davis?”

Mr. Evans clapped, setting down his clipboard.

"Great acting for the first time you too, you sound very well together."

Travis couldn't help but scoff at that one.

”Well, I thought it was great,” Sal began, before the drama teacher sighed. “By the way, I have something to tell you both.”

”Oh?” Travis said, arms crossing and he tilted his nose up. “Enlighten us, then.”

”In the script, there’s two scenes,” He began. “And…they are both…kissing scenes?”

There was a few moments of silence. “What. The fuck. Are you talking about?” Sal asked, the bubbling anger in his voice.

Travis eyes widened and he immediately grabbed the script. For a moment there was silence. 

"I'm not doing that."

Quiet before the storm, that's what they called it, right?

"Now Travis I already talked through it with Sal-"

"No! I'm not doing this-"

“Phelps, he probably has a good reason. Sit.” Sal told him, as Travis just ignored him and went on about how he wasn’t gay, and that it was a sin and so much bigoted bullshit Sal couldn’t actually bear himself to pay attention to it.

”Phelps,” He began.

”No! Because, do you honestly get off at watching kids kiss?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Travis shouted.

”Phelps.” Sal said, more sternly.

Travis kept ignoring him, yelling at the teacher who tried to reason with him and soon, Sal was tired of it. “Travis!” He shouted.

”WHAT?!” The blonde yelled back.

”I said SIT, goddammit!” Sal yelled, louder than anyone had ever heard him before, even stunning the drama teacher as the blue-haired boy pointed to a empty seat.

Travis immediately flinched back, away from Sal. He got a bit red in the face. He was gonna yell. He should yell, or shout back, or something, but instead, his eyes watered despite himself, he blinked and sat down, crossing his arms.

"I’m only sitting here because I want to.” He told him. “Fucking fag.”

“Tah-dah.” Sal signed before Mr. Davis stood in front of the boy. “Now, here’s what’s going on. Basically, a bunch of people voted on the kiss scene or else they would leave the club, so my hands were basically tied. I’m sorry, Travis.” He explained.

”But, hopefully, I’m assuming there’s a way to make this a tad bit comfortable.” Sal signed as he spoke. “Also, I apologize for yelling at you, but I know you Phelps to some degree. And you wouldn’t have paid attention to damned thing I said unless I was loud. Do I need to explain further?”

“And, for the use of said slur, you’re upset so I will not take that personally.” He signed as he spoke. “But say it to me again, and I will personally send you to your Lord and Savior. Got it?”

"Whatever."

That was all he got. That was all he had. How was even supposed to kiss him that was- no. He wasn't gonna think about that. That was bad. He felt a bit betrayed, even. By the drama teacher, but he guessed that guy didn't have any loyalties to anyone but his job.

"Travis, we can even talk to your parents about it to make it better somehow but-"

"NO! No. My father's - out of town."

He could not know about this.

“Not mine neither.” Sal said, lowering his sleeves. “My apologies sir. Do you have some way to make this a bit more comfortable?”

"Right. No parents. Maybe we can do a theatre kiss, ever heard of it?"

Travis shook his head. He was just surprised. Things just got a whole lot worse very fast, and he couldn't really - whatever. What. Ev. Er.

"Okay, well, a theatre kiss is where you put your thumb in between each other's mouth so you're more.. kissing someone's thumb."

“Fuck no.” Sal said, sitting down. “I refuse to, I WILL NOT kiss this man’s CRUSTY ASS THUMB! No offense, Travis.”

Travis sneered, scooting his chair away.

Mr. Evans sighed, flipping through his notes. 

"There's not much else we could do boys. It's either thumb or an actual kiss and..I doubt either of you want that."

Travis leaned back in his chair. He didn't wanna do any of this, at all, but this was pushing it. This was a sin and he was pretty surprised the school was supporting it.

“Uhm, hello?? Who’s wearing the prosthetic here again?” Sal signed sarcastically. “Why don’t Travis just…kiss that..” Wow, signing the words was even more painful than saying them. And having say them just made it worse.

"I am NOT kissing your prosthetic. Do you even wash that?? I don't wanna know, actually." Travis sat up, that would just be awkward. He was not subjecting himself to anymore shame than he needed to for this freak show.

“Newsflash vulture, I DO.” Sal raised his sleeves as he signed aggressive, yelling as he did. “And I have ZERO problem taking this off and SHOVING IT UP YOUR-“

Travis stood up right before Mr Evans stood in between them.

"Hey! We are not children here, alright? We'll figure it out."

Travis sat back down with his arms crossed and a downright ugly look on his face.

Sal grumbled, looking away. This was bad. This was really, fucking bad. Travis was his bully! And as much as he hated Sal, Sal hated him tenfold. It was bad enough he had to go onto the stage…in front of all those people, but having to do it with the person he hated the most was downright disrespectful, to him as a person and to Ashley’s play.

Mr. Evan shook his head.

"You two are going to have to at least try and get along, alright? Please."

Mr. Evans was just honest a bit tired, alright? There was always some kind of cat fight between these two. At first it was funny, but now their hatred for each other hadn’t faltered once during the years at this highschool that they were together at.

"I believe the build up is more like a tension based type of thing, but you'll have to check over the script to get the best explanation." The teacher said.

“Huh. Like, an argument?” Sal asked, intrigued, greatly.

"Exactly. I'm sure you two will be great at that." When Travis was about to stand up and protest, Mr. Evans put his hand up signaling him to stop.

“And the troupe will be exactly?” Sal asked again.

"Probably an uh- rivals to lovers? Or something like that I suppose." Mr. Evans shrugged.

Sal smiled underneath the prosthetic he wore, and that smile reached his eyes. “So basically what you’re saying is, I can insult this homophobe on stage and there’s nothing he can do about it?”

“Huh. Guess this whole ‘love story’ won’t be so bad after all.”

"That is not what he is saying frog face!"

”FROG FACE?! I KNOW YOUR ASS ISNT TALKING-“

Sal yelled back at Travis, as Travis began rolling his eyes when the teacher frowned at him. He hated this, how many times did he have to express this?

Mr. Evans pinched the bridge of his nose before speaking.

"Just stick to the script."

“Oh don’t worry sir, I will.” Sal said and picked up his book bag. “Bye!” He said before closing the door and walking out the school. “Man, this is gonna be fun.”

Chapter Text

“Why are talking to the homophobic bastard?” Larry signed. “Because, it’s funny to catch the homophobic bastard slipping every now and then. Don’t get wrong idea though,” Sal replied, Maple nodding in agreement.

”I still hate him.”

It was a Wednesday morning, Maple and Sal had just paid a visit to the old costume vault, only needing to get makeup and a couple of other clothes, since Ashely generously gave him and Travis the privilege to choose their character's closets, so that just meant he and Travis had to pay a trip to the mall. So now, they walked in the hallways, talking.

“By the way,” Maple signed. “How’s things with Travis?”

Sal shrugged. “I mean, he’s still pretty rude but kind of respects me to some extent.” He signed as he talked. “I can’t hear his voice without my hearing aids so that sucks since sometimes I forget to bring them. But sometimes it doesn't suck.” All students that were in the hallway suddenly divided and went into different classrooms. “Did the bell just ring?” Sal signed, pretty confused.

Both Maple and Larry nodded. “We gotta go, talk to you later Sal.” Maple waved, as Sal nodded and made is way to the west wing of the school, going up the stairs were tiring. Maybe they should put escalators or something, anything but this torture. As Sal walked towards the end of the corridor, someone ran in front of him. It startled him a bit since he couldn’t hear them running or even see them, but then he realized the person. The blonde hair, the purple sweater, the black book bag.

Oh great.

"Morning, Sal.” He began. “Do you have your hearing aids on?" Travis teased. Sal just looked up to him, no response. "Well? Do you?" Travis said quite harshly. 

“Wow, first time calling me by my name. I feel so honored.” Sal signed while saying it, making sure he was loud enough. “And what are you? A stalker or a bully? Pick one.”

Travis crossed his arms. "A bully I guess?" Travis glared at Sal. “So smart-mouthed...” He muttered.

“And to answer your question, no. I did not bring my hearing aids.” Sal rolled his eyes. “I saw your mouth moving. What did you say under your breath?”

"Nothing that matters Sally face." Travis responded in a rude mocking tone. 

“You know, if you ever need help getting that stick out of your ass,” Sal began. “I have lube. Now, I need to get to Chug these costumes. If this is about the play, the script is your locker, if this is about the mall, we can go there after 3 o'clock. If there is a genuine question you’d like to ask me, you have two minutes.”

"I... wha- what kind of offer is that!?" Travis yelled; he was flustered. His fist bawled, as he looked away from Sal.

“I’m just wasting my time.” Sal muttered. “Are we done here? For real done here? It’s bad enough I have to sing with a homophobic, super-silious, arrogant, negative bully and now you won’t let me go to class.” Sal signed, more aggressively this time. “If you won’t bother being nice to me and you won’t ask me any questions nicely, not bitchy nice then you can kindly move out of my way.” He signed, and spoke angrily.

He paused. Before just stepping aside to let Sal make his way to his class, quite a shock if I could add.

“Thank you.” Sal actually said, without signing this time and walked down to the classroom with a purple door, thinking about what song he could perform next. He did have a couple of them that would go great with the play.

For some reason or the next, Travis felt a bit...angry with himself. Like it was maybe an unwritten rule in that Bible to upset Sal.

…

That was ridiculous. Completely and total. He sighed, wondered what was going on with him before walking to class the opposite way.

-

Surprisingly, Travis actually came to the mall.

For a minute, Sal thought that Travis was gonna stand him up, but when he saw that familiar blonde hair, purple sweater, Sal was a bit glad he didn't have to do this shopping alone, even more since he had a huge tendency to get lost in big spaces. Blame it on his ADHD.

"Sal." Travis greeted.

"Travis." Sal greeted back; the smile evident in his voice, two pieces of paper in his hand. "I was waiting for you, I thought you stood me up."

Travis groaned. "This isn't a date, freak." He spat. "I'm just-"

"Doing it for you grades, yeah yeah, I know." Sal cut him off. "But c'mon, the store is gonna close soon."

The blonde groaned. "Whatever."

The blue-haired boy smiled, grabbing the other's wrist and leading him into the stores he had in mind. It being the middle of November, Travis was surprised at some stores already preparing for Halloween and some other even preparing for goddamn Christmas. It didn't stop Travis from scoffing, eventually the two getting into a clothing store that was one of Sal's favorites.

"Okay," He began, handing Travis one of the papers. "These are analyses on our characters, and how they should dress. But what they wear is up to you." 

Travis looked at his paper, silently reading the analysis. Elijah Rager, 17-year-olds. A Christian angsty teen with anger issues, and internalized homophobia, and a monochromatic closet, with only a few purples. Personality Type: ESFP 8w7.

Sweet Mother Mary, take me now.

If having to preform with Sal of all people wasn't bad, this analysis was. And he didn't even finsihed read, but frankly, Travis had a feeling that if he read the whole thing outloud, he would wanna gouge out his own eyeballs. But, the sooner he got this done, the sooner he saved himself the embarrassment. It was like food, if you don't like something, you eat it quickly to get it over with.

Guess he was going fucking shopping.

-

Travis remembers the first time he had seen Sal. Like, actually seen him.

He wasn't paying attention to the new boy with pigtails, and chipped black nails, but he did pay attention to him on that day.

It was particularly cold outside, and school had just ended. He was walking, before he saw him.

In a huge black sweater and those red jeans, but without the rips. He wore earmuffs, and fingerless gloves, just leaning against one of the school walls, and watching everyone, like the creep he was. His breath seemed to be drawn out slowly, arms crossed.

It was only a second. Just a few five seconds.

His eyes, blue and seemed to illuminate thanks to the weather, met his. He seemed to make a face; Travis made a face. It was like Sal was trying to read him, like a book he was studying, or a song Sal had tended to analyze for no reason. Sal was an analyzer; it was something he did best.

Just a few moments of shared eye contact, that made Travis get goosebumps all over his skin, which he excused as the cold weather. Then, Phillip was tapping him and the blue-eyed boy was signing to Larry.

"Blondie, you good?" Phillip asked.

Travis paused, before nodding. "Yeah, I just don't feel like doing bible study today, that's all."

"Travis!" A voice snapped him out of his short flashback, it was Sal, or course. "The mall is about to close up, you got everything you need?" He asked, head tilted and bags in his hands.

Right. He had just finished shopping, getting everything, he needed. They were just walking, before he zoned out, going back to that day. "Yeah, yeah I did." He told him, plastic bag handles digging into his fingers.

"Alright," Sal began. "Let's go then."

Travis scoffed. "Don't tell me what to do, Sally Face."

"Phelps, it was merely a suggestion," Sal began. "You can stay here if you'd like. I'm sure your father would love to hear that from you."

Travis felt himself sneer, before purposefully bumping into the smaller boy before walking to the exit. And Sal, like a phantom, or his thoughts, or perhaps a shadow - followed him, watching.

That's what Sal always did, he watched, he listened, he waited.

And since Travis was a bit tired from shopping, he didn't mind it as much as he usually did.

-

“Larry, you’re my best friend but WHAT??” Sal signed, pretty surprised with his request. “Come on! I mean, you and Travis are pretty good singers and this is a great song!” Ash argued. “Nope, this has ‘falling in love’ written all over it!” He countered, “Literally!”

The school was dark, the sun almost setting as a security guard roamed the halls, to make sure they were actually doing what they were supposed to.

“Come on, I mean it’s a neat song and you can test your skills. And as much as I hate Travis having to be in our play, this is a chance we can embarrass him, payback.” Larry offered, and now Sal was listening. He grumbled, hands on his prosthetic. "Fine. Fine, I'll do it." He agreed. "I'll go tell Travis it's time for rehearsals."

Travis was just leaning on his locker, re-thinking everything he had said earlier, everything he did. The rush to his gut with Sal grabbed his wrist and led him inside, the glee in his eyes as he picked out more clothes, the sassy remarks, the eye rolls, along with the bubbling kindness underneath was so, incredibly Sal.

Travis wanted to beat it out of him, break him. Why must his enemy be so kind? Why must his enemy be so funny? Why, why, why. Perhaps it was a test by God? Sal stood against everything the Bible stood for, and was proud of it. The Bible was something had known his whole life. If anyone threatened that, then-

“Travis! Hey, We’ve got rehearsals remember? Or is that head of yours too filled with different slurs you can call me?” Sal signed and said, once again, making himself loud enough to hear, snapping the blonde out of his train of thought.

Did he mention how fucking annoying Sally Face was?

"That's not it, and I know we've got rehearsals so fuck off!" Travis yelled from across the hallway. 

“Well, I’m not singing this by myself so come on.” Sal signed this time, but not saying a single word. Just a test, or a fun test to prove something to himself.

"Ugh, fine!" Travis stopped leaning and quickly walked over to Sal, pretending to be pissed.

“Wait a minute,” Sal begun. “Travis, do you know sign?” He asked, still signing and surprised. He thought Travis wouldn’t understand a single thing he was talking about if he didn’t say it but no. He knew sign. Where did he learn it from and why? Who taught him? If he knew, why did he let Sal talk to him like a complete idiot?

"I do, in fact. You shouldn’t underestimate me Sally face." Travis crossed his arms once again, a small smirk appeared on his face.

“Really? Well, if I were to be fair, you started this.” Sal signed. “Judging someone before you got to know them.”

"You have a point, but sadly, I don't give a damn." Travis countered.

This was their many was of fighting : word fights. And usually, Travis always lost, but not this time.

“Me neither.” Sal signed out of defense. “I told you once that nobody likes a cliche bully out of the movies, Travis. It makes you look stupid but you go ahead and do you, I suppose..”

"And I will do me, it's better than being fake." Travis snapped back.

“Oh? Is that so, church boy?” Sal signed and said, raising his voice slightly , stepping closer to the boy. “Are we gonna have a problem here?”

Travis was quite surprised, he took a step back, not wanting Sal to get close.

Sal stepped closer. “Do you want a fight? If you have something to say,” he took another step closer. “I suggest you say it now. Are you calling me fake?”

"So what if I am calling you fake? What are you gonna do about it? hmm?" Travis glared at Sal.

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know.” Sal took a step closer. “I could just always punch you but I don’t think that’d be a fitting punishment. No, you need - no, deserve something worse.  You’re the kind of people I actually hate. You actually make me sick.” He spoke, harshly. “So, I’ll think about.” And with that Sal turned around and went back into the music room but stopped at the doorway.

“Hey Travis?”

"W-What..?" Travis blushed slightly, questions filling up his mind on why his face was so red. Why was the thought of Sal being aggressive towards him so appealing? Why did he want him to angry with him? To get violent with him, leave bruises that would last for days?

Hm.

Oh.

Oh god, not this again.

“Don’t underestimate me. Got it?” Sal signed with his right hand, snapping Travis out of it.

Travis signed "Alright" and turned around, not wanting to face Sal anymore. There was only one thing that got rid of things like this, and Travis guessed that maybe he should be more thankful that they don’t check lockers or have metal detectors here.

-

“Hey, isn’t Travis coming in?” Todd asked, sitting by the piano. “No. He’s just being dumb again. You know how it goes.” Sal signed and spoke.

”Thank God.” Larry muttered, as the ginger turned to him. “Larry, you don’t even believe in God.”

”That’s the problem. If Travis were to leave our school, hell, I’ll start believing in God.” Sal giggled at that, before asking what should they do now, and Ashley suggested they start with acting now, so they wouldn’t be far behind to get the show started.

”Do we need Travis for this?” Todd asked.

”Unfortunately.” Ashley told them. “All in favor of not having to get Travis for rehearsals, say ‘not it.’ “

Almost everyone in the room quickly said the phrase, Sal being the last one. “Goddammit.” He grunted, glaring at everyone. “Fuck you all.” He signed.

”We love you too, Sal.” Todd offered a thumbs up, as Sal got out of the stool he was sitting in and walked out of the music room, and into the dark hallways, not seeing Travis in sight.

”Now where the fuck did he just go?” He questioned himself, wandering all of the school, checking every unlocked classroom and every bathroom, until he got to the boy’s bathroom on the second floor.

He slowly opened the door, seeing nothing at first, before he saw the green converse that seemed to contrast the darkness.

Travis.

Sal walked over to the door, quickly knocking on it four times. “Phelps, this time, you gotta come to rehearsals. You in there?”

”Obviously. Go away, freak.” Travis snapped, but quietly. As if he were in pain, and believe it or not, that slightly concerned the other. His short, but drawn out breaths, the hitches every now in there, how his feet looked tense. Travis was crying, but he didn’t want Sal to notice it.

But Sal knew. After all, he had done the same trick himself.

He sighed, bending down at knee level. “Hey. What’s bugging you?”

”Wouldn’t you like to know?” Travis bit back, making Sal sigh. The stubbornness that made Travis so difficult.

”Why do you hate me so much?” He asked, in simple curiosity. “I mean, I know why I hate you, but why do you hate me? What did I do to you to make you so…”

”Angry?”

”No. Bittersweet.” Sal told him, and the silence he gained, he took as his place to explain. “Like ice cream with salt. You’re sweet, yet bitter to everyone, even yourself. You’re bittersweet.”

Travis made a noise, like a pained laugh. “Bittersweet, huh?” He asked. “Well I’m not, for your information.”

”Is that so?” Sal asked. “What would you call yourself then, Phelps? And you still haven’t answered my question.”

”I don’t fucking know,” Travis replied, through gritted teeth. “And it’s because you and your dumb  friends are a bunch of homos!” He spat. “It’s sick, it’s not right, God will never love you so why should I?!”

Sal sighed. Honestly, what did he expect?

”You know, we’re not all gay, right?” He began. “Well, I mean, I’m bi, and Todd’s like - the gayest person you’ll ever meet, but we’re not all gay. And even if we were, I’m sure God’s got bigger issues, like world hunger and the rates of teen suicide then worrying about if I wear skirts or kiss boys or not.” Sal shrugged, getting nothing but silence, but Travis’s startled breath was for his ears and his ears alone.

”And this is coming from someone who used to be Christian, Travis.” Sal told him. “I was raised in a Christian family too, and if God didn’t love these parts of me, why would he create them in the first place? Just think about it.”

”…Why are you so kind?” Travis asked.

”Being kind is free, Phelps.” Sal answered him. “And if you wanna be bitter, that’s fine by me. I’m in no position to judge you, as you are with me. Aren’t we all equal in the eyes of God?”

”Using religion against me?” Travis responded. “Low.”

”There’s two ways to get through to you,” Sal explained, after watching him for so long. “Religion and just plain old yelling at you. And I don’t have the energy to yell right now. And I don’t think that’s what you need, right now, either.”

”You don’t know me.” Travis told him. 

“I think I do.” Sal countered, before chuckling. “It’s funny. You love pretending you can’t be tamed, talked to, not talked at.”

Travis huffed. “And you love pretending that you’re the only one that can do it.”

There was silence. “I think we both know I’m not pretending, Travis.”

There was still silence, the only air conditioning and the sound of the two teens breathing fell through the room. “We should probably get back to rehearsals.” Travis broke the silence.

“Yeah, you know what,” Sal got up. “We should.” Now, he stood out in front of Travis’s stall. “You coming?”

”Beggars can’t be choosers.” Travis responded, before getting up and opening the stall door. “You know I don’t have a choice.”

Sal smiled, nodded, before walking to the door, and opening it, gesturing Travis to go through. “Phelps first.” 

Travis rolled his eyes, but still, went through the door.

-

Sal led them to the auditorium, where Larry sat on the stage, tuning his guitar. His eyes almost went wide when you saw the two. “There you are!” He shouted. “I was about to report you missing, you were out for almost an hour.”

Travis eyes widened. Had they really been in there, talking, for a full ass hour?

I think we both know I’m not pretending, Travis.

Travis shook his head violently. No, Sal didn’t know what he was talking about. If he did, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him. Not after the accident, after what he did, after how he feels-

“Travis!” Sal called. “We gotta get dressed up. You coming?”

Beggars can’t be choosers.

”Yeah,” Travis confirmed. “Just give me a minute.”