it was the night of his show, you and the other dead poets sat in yours seats, right in the middle. a perfect spot to watch your boyfriends act. as the play went on and on, you noticed how neil’s hands shook as he acted, always glancing to the back of the room. so you turn, his father. his father never agreed on his acting career.

as the show finished, you ran backstage, not caring about the people yelling at you. you ran straight to neil as he hugged you, lifting you up and spinning you around with a happy yet dreadful smile.