Third Person Perspective-

As each day continued to roll by, Martyn kept trucking through and did his best to avoid Ren. It seemed overall easy as most of the speaking parts Ren has it was to Impulse.

It was getting easier, but the memorizing was way worse.

"Martyn, I love seeing your improv, but you gotta know your lines." Sadie said, walking up to Martyn was he was packing up.

"Right, sorry." Martyn sighed.

"Just get someone you can run lines with or make flashcards, just something. I know it seems far, but time goes by fast and we gotta make sure you know your stuff."

Martyn nods and Sadie smiles, patting his back before leaving.

Martyn sighed and threw on his backpack, walking out of the auditorium.

-

The following day, Martyn walked out of his math class and put on his headphones, playing his music pretty loud.

"Martyn-!"

Martyn glanced over his shoulder, having faintly heard someone call out to him.

A guy ran over, wearing a sweater that said, "Wisteria High Journalism 2024-2025". His black hair fell over his eyes, and he took a deep breath before brushing it back.

"Er- hi?" Martyn raised an eyebrow.

"Hi, I'm Mumbo, for the yearbook? I sent you a text a couple weeks ago and- "

"Oh shoot! I totally forgot to do that." Martyn sighed, "Sorry, things have been so busy, but you can just ask someone else the stuff if you'd rather." Martyn muttered the last part, still unconfident in his ability as a theatre kid.

"Oh uh- no you'd actually work perfectly. My friend said you were like brand new to theatre and plus you're the lead."

Martyn blushed, embarrassed.

"So are you free sometime?" Mumbo asked, glancing at his watch to see how much time he had to go to his next class.

"Sure, yeah I'm free this weekend."

"Great, just send me a text on where you can meet, I gotta head to class."

"Yeah, okay- "

Martyn got cut off as Mumbo jogged off and Martyn blinked, adjusting his bag.

He popped his lips and shrugged, walking off.

Weird.

-

A couple of days had passed, and Martyn was just desperately trying to get through theatre and crash at home for a lazy Friday.

He stepped onto the weird hoverboard scooter that was sold everywhere back in 2016, and he stuck his arms out to try and regain his balance.

"No- Marty no!! Noooo!!" Scar cried out and Martyn laughed as he shakily tried to get the thing to move.

Scar started to be very dramatic and pretended to bang his fist on the table and cry as Martyn slowly glided off the stage.

The scooter eventually caught on and its lights flashed as it zoomed forward.

Martyn gasped and lost balance, falling off into the wings.

Someone quickly caught him and stopped the scooter with their foot and Martyn looked up to see Ren.

Martyn took a shaky breath, and he stepped back, leaning away from his ex.

Ren handed Martyn the scooter, his stone-cold expression never leaving his face.

Martyn stared at him and took the board, his mind never forgetting the way Ren used to smile at him.

The two stared at each other before Ren nodded.

"That's your cue." He said in a low voice.

Martyn snapped back and he looked over his shoulder, running out onto stage, feeling the cold eyes bore into his head.

-

After the class, Martyn opened his phone and saw a text from Mumbo, reminding him of their meetup.

Ugh, that's right. Why did I agree to doing this on a Friday? He groaned internally and sighed, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

He saw Sadie and Ren doing choreography on the stage and watched them for a minute.

"Wow, you're a pretty good dancer!" Sadie complimented.

"Thanks." Ren smiled, "I used to do a lot of those uh- dance games for about a year."

Martyn felt the pain chew away at his heart and he kept his head down, trying to think about how his meeting with Mumbo would go.

-

Martyn stood outside the café he and Mumbo decided to meet at and he saw the dark-haired boy wander over.

"Hi! Thanks for doing this with me." Mumbo smiled and Martyn nodded. They walked inside, Martyn following Mumbo, and he sighed.

"Let's just get this over with." He whispered under his breath.