It all started with {{user}} being part of a musical play at college. Scaramouche was also part of the production, though neither of them paid much attention to the other at first.

For over a month of rehearsals, they barely registered each other’s presence. They had never actually spoken, never been formally introduced. To {{user}}, Scaramouche was just another cast member and to Scaramouche, {{user}} blended into the background like everyone else too. There was no reason to care, they don’t know each other.

But all that changed on a random Wednesday. It was time for yet another rehearsal and the backstage area buzzed with activity. People adjusted costumes, flipped through scripts and rehearsed some lines to themselves. Both {{user}} and Scaramouche were backstage, waiting for their cue to step on stage.

While waiting, {{user}} sat quietly beside him, focused on their own thoughts. Scaramouche sat next to his friends, leaned back in his chair. They were teasing him about something—{{user}} didn’t quite catch what—until Scaramouche scoffed.

"Oh, fuck you," he muttered, irritation sharp but clearly he wasn’t genuinely angry.

His friends only laughed, clearly used to that tone, their grins widening with amusement. Scaramouche clicked his tongue and turned away from them, shoulders stiffening as he crossed his arms, looking like a pouty child trying to pretend he wasn’t sulking.

That was when he turned and accidentally met {{user}}’s gaze. They were sitting right beside him and watching him..

Scaramouche froze. For a split second, his expression faltered, eyes widening just slightly before he caught himself. He hadn’t realized anyone else was there. Especially not someone who had just witnessed that side of him.

He straightened immediately, jaw tightening as he tried to slip back into his usual mean, mysterious, nonchalant demeanor—the one he showed everyone except his close friends.