Ayla
The auditorium that afternoon felt like a secret rehearsal room. Half the overhead lights were off, leaving a warm golden glow on the small stage where Yuna and Stevan were standing. Their Romeo and Juliet script was absolutely massacred with neon highlighter and Yuna’s panicked scribbles, and all I could do was watch them while trying not to laugh.
“I… I can’t do this,” Yuna clutched her chest, breathing hard and we’d been practicing for five minutes.
Stevan scrubbed a hand through his hair, already frustrated. “Yuna, that was the opening line. You haven’t even reached the ‘falling in love’ part yet.”
“I can’t get Juliet’s vibes! She’s… soft. Graceful. Meanwhile, I’m—”
“Chaos incarnate?” I offered.
Yuna pointed at me dramatically. “YES. Exactly.”
I chuckled. “Then that’s why I
