[Requested]

[I put two requests together to make this]
[Frequent use of the word Hell- if any of you are bothered by that, just a heads up, also minor minor mention of self-harm as well as fighting]
[The song used in this chapter is up in the little video box above ^]

[AU where all the sides are real, physical people, going through their senior years of high school]
[Disclaimer: They're not related to each other, we're going to use what Fanfic writers call 'THE MIST' which in this case,  allows characters to interact but...they never address the fact that they look alike- OKAY LET'S GO!]
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Virgil hadn't really thought he would like Stage Arts initially. He had simply put the elective as his third choice because, well, it was that or take another language...and Spanish had already taken enough away from Virgil's sleep schedule as it was, he didn't need to worry about More accents.

Besides, it wasn't all too bad, things were coming together quite nicely over the past school year, according the Virgil. He got to work alone, and everything was dark- for the sake of not revealing back-stage of course, but the reasoning behind it wasn't anything to bother with. Not to mention Hell. Hell was wonderful.

Hell, it was the term used for the storage underneath the School's stage. It was filled with over a hundred-thousand props and dresses, masks and suits, everything a theatre geek could dream for. However, Virgil wasn't a theatre geek, that wasn't why he liked the large warehouse-like structure under the stage. No. It was looking at the theatre geeks. It seemed like there was a new one every day.

Virgil spent his time cleaning up around hell and around the upper-stage area, having bad-luck with ladders and lighting. You fall onetime and break your arm, next thing you know you're being called Hansen for the next few months. That's theatre for you. But, the one good thing about picking up after the others' messes, was the faces. The looks of absolute joy when you saw, you knew that it was, a theatre geek's face just light up when they saw all the still props and gowns, and then how they'd wait for permission from their peer before exploring the entire area and listing off every single item and what musical or play it was from, almost always getting it right.

Virgil wasn't given enough credit for the amount of joy he could feel. At his school he was known as, by the few who actually took the time to acknowledge his existence, the basket-case in the dark. Never stepping into the sun. Always in someone else's shadow. Never...himself.

Virgil could care less about what others thought of him, there wasn't anybody in particular who he really cared how they thought of him one way or another.

Except,

That wasn't entirely true.

There was...someone.

Virgil remember the first time he saw the boy, he was down in Hell, sweeping and dusting and fluffing the costumes, when he showed up. His name was Roman, from what he overheard the boy's Student-Director call him. There was something about him...something that struck Virgil right in the chest. Maybe it was the way he looked at the variety of costumes, maybe it was the way he marveled at each individual prop.

Or maybe,

Maybe it was the way he looked at Virgil.

He looked at Virgil. Met him dead in the eye...and smiled. Not a sarcastic smile, like Virgil was used to. No. This was a genuine smile, one that wasn't just a smile from the lips, but from the nose and the eyes, and the heart. And you know what? Virgil smiled back. Or...at least...he tried.

In the time it took for Virgil to stop gaping, he wasn't all too keen of his surroundings. So, of course, when he lifted his hand to wave, he forgot about the rack of dresses beside him, and instead sent them flying onto the floor with a simple lift of his hand. Next thing he knew he was being scolded by the Student-Director and some more students were beginning to gather, whispering and snickering and deciding which nicknames to bestow upon the innocent, flustered boy, who was fighting back tears as he hastily propped back up all the different attires.

He remembered this day, Virgil. He remember it as the day a boy smiled at him, and the day he couldn't smile back. He tried, he really did, he tried finding Roman again and he tried...smiling...just that. It didn't seem hard...but it wasn't easy either.

It wasn't as if Virgil wasn't able to catch Roman's eye, the theatre-kid came down to Hell almost every day, and Virgil hated to be selfish, but he felt as if Roman was there particularly for him. He was sure it wasn't true...but the thought of it alone made him absolutely...happy... as he swept, dusted, and brushed, cleaning up every book, nook and cranny. In fact, one day, today, he actually found himself singing, sweeping to the beat he whistled and singing loudly, it was after school-hours, and nobody liked how quiet and dark it was down here anyway, so what was wrong? He surely had the liberty and right to sing as he pleased, so long as he wasn't disturbing anyone. So, he did. He sang knowing that the boy, the Prince, his knight, was on his mind and in his heart, this song was for him.

Virgil's voice came out clear and smooth, "I missed you dearly...thought I was nearly...there forever, at last together..." He smiled quietly to himself as he began sweeping in a square ball-room dancing step before continuing,

"Is our time fleeting? Is even meeting...a healthy idea, or am I getting too near?" Virgil paused before continuing, though surprised when-

"Don't try to fight it, I'm here for the night, and I'll be waiting for you, until we meet again." Someone else harmonized with Virgil's voice, and like the reader, Virgil knew exactly who it was.

He immediately dropped his broom and swung himself around, meeting the all too unfortunate face of Roman.

"Sorry...did I mess you up?" Roman coughed.

Virgil opened his mouth to reply, but his embarrassment choked him.

"Well...anywho...I just came down to actually ask you to keep it down..." Roman shifted on his feet.

"Oh...I'm sorry...were you...practicing your solo or-"

"No, actually...the whole Dramatic Arts department is up there, we're rehearsing the school's performance of The Princess Bride- for tomorrow's show that is."

Virgil wish he hadn't dropped the broom, because now he wanted to swing it over his head to loose conscious and have a way to get out of this situation. So all he did...all he could do...

Was smile.

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Virgil found himself going home early that day, almost instantly after Roman awkwardly left once silence could no longer fill up the empty space where Virgil's flustered apology should have gone. He felt absolutely humiliated as he walked through the seats of the theatre to grab his bag, feeling as if every single stare was on him, and it most likely was. That was that. He didn't turn around once, but simply listened to the lines being read out as he exited the room...

Virgil recognized the voice of Roman, despite his slight accent as he kept in-character. He had watched the film of the princess bride countless times to know almost every verse of every paragraph of every line, which is how he recognized Roman's words and knew he played the roll of Wesley, and how he knew it was the sword fighting scene.

Virgil quickly paused before exiting the theatre, quietly cursing to himself as he realized he had left the door to Hell unlocked, free for anyone to come in and steal whatever props they ever so pleased if he didn't show up. He quickly turned around, skirting the edge of the Theatre and keeping his head held low and he tiptoed down the stairs and opened the unlocked door, sighing contently to himself as he heard the director call CUT! Above him. Virgil thought for a moment before entering the desolate basement and picking up his cleaning supplies, he had time after all, and he'd appreciate the Drama Department leaving before he went back up, he didn't want to deal with any social interactions at the moment and sure as all things, he didn't want to get called out on his singing once again.

After propping his broom up with the Wizard of Oz section and leaving his Lint-Roller to the tuxes, he turned to leave. But, that's how it happened.

Virgil was nearing the door when he noticed two figures waiting just outside its frame. He knew this didn't mean well, so he started backing away. However, that's when they started to advance.

"Hey, guys...I won't tell anybody if you were doing drugs or whatever, I swear...just let me leave...okay?" Virgil tried to keep his mutual composure but found his nerves getting in the way of that.

"I really don't think so." A boy, senior-year, broad-shoulders, and piercing green eyes, the boy of the right, states.

Virgil felt his shoulders sag with fear, "Why...so?"

"You, you were the one singing, right?" The same boy questioned.

"...What answer do you want?"

"The truth." Huffed the boy opposite to the brown haired boy, this one having deep-blue eyes and blonde, sun-bleached hair.

"Yeah...that was me..." Virgil commented slowly, having backed up to the point where he was now against a rack of costumes.

This summoned a growl from the brown-haired boy, "You nearly cost me my lead-roll, kid."

Virgil wanted to point out the fact that they were both probably the same age, but felt it unnecessary at the moment.

"Mrs.Reyes said you had a fine voice." Scoffed the Blonde-Haired boy.

"...Thanks-?"

"That isn't good!" Hissed the Brunette "She commented on the fact that you sound an awful lot like Wesley, and I am not letting the opportunity of kissing Roman slip through my fingers."

"Kissing...why?" Virgil swallowed.

"Weren't you informed?"

"...No..."

"Honestly, it's a wonder stage-arts gets things organized in time- gender-swaps."

"Gender-swaps...?"

"There was a cut in females this year so we had to switch some genders- ah it's not important- what's important is that I keep my roll at Butterscotch and he keeps his roll as Wesley. Now, you can't change that if you can't sing, huh? And you can't sing if you don't have a voice!" The brunette put a hand around Virgil's neck and lifted a fist, "And you can't tell if you don't have a-"

"I don't recommend doing that."

The brunette froze, the blonde quickly tapping him on the shoulder and pointing to the masked figure behind him.

Virgil recognized the costume for Wesley immediately and instantly felt hope wash over him.

"H-how long have you been standing there?" The brunette's fist quickly tensed.

"Long enough to know I sure as hell am not working with you anymore." Roman scoffed.

"But- I'm helping!"

"By beating Virgil 'till he can't breath?"

The brunette tightened his grip on Virgil's throat in frustration, cutting off the air flow in his lungs.

Roman tensed up at the action and grabbed for an item at his waist, "Let go of him now."

"Or what?" The brunette tried to keep up his spoiled dignity.

Roman unsheathed his sword, a prop from the show, though for all 'Butterscotch' knew, it was real, "My name Roman Sanders, you hurt my Virgil...prepare to die."

The brunette let out a yelp of concern, immediately releasing Virgil to collapse and crumble to the floor. He held his hands up in mercy, "I'm leavin' I'm leaving!" He cried before booking it out the door, his companion blonde pausing a moment before following.

Roman then took the chance to fall to his knees and pull up Virgil to his lap, lightly shaking the boy to see if he was alright.

Virgil let out a groan, his voice coming out hoarse, "Please...stop shaking...me...it hurts."

Roman bit his lip, "Sorry I- as you wish." He simply moved his arms to cradle the shaken boy.

Virgil let out a few sputtered cough and winced at the pain in his neck.

"You need to get to the nurse's off-"

"She leaves after regular school hours..." Virgil pointed out.

Roman began to stand up with Virgil in his arms, "At least allow me to get you somewhere safe."

"Why aren't we safe here?" Virgil pointed out.

Roman thought for a moment before nodding, "I suppose we are...but your neck-"

"Will be fine when I get home and put ice on it."

"...Can I at least drive you...?"

"You're very persistent." Virgil smirked.

"Thanks, it's not like I just saved you or anything, hot topic." Roman rolled his eyes.

"Aw, you think I'm h-"

"Shut."

Virgil looked around before resting his eyes on Roman's, instantly wishing he hadn't as he saw the passion in them and feeling his heart-rate pick up. He wanted to look away...but he didn't, "Yeah...a ride would be nice."

"...As you wish..."