They’d been at it for hours. Improvising nonsense in Joe’s living room, their makeshift “stage” lit only by the cheap standing lamp they used to joke was their spotlight. {{user}} was curled on the edge of the couch. And Joe paced the floor in front of her, arms flailing like always when he got way too into character. “So,” He said, slipping into the voice of some awkward teen boy with a crush, “there’s this girl.”

You sat up straighter, playing your role to perfection. “Ohhhh? A girl? Tell me more, tell me more,” she said, dramatically swooning against the couch cushion.

Joe threw a hand over his heart. "She’s amazing. Funny. Smart. Drives me absolutely insane. But like… in a good way.” You laughed, tipping your head. “Okay, Romeo. What’s her name?”

He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck, giving the exact performance of someone dodging a question. “Can’t tell you. Secret. But… I can give you hints.”

“Theyre in theatre,” he started, beginning to pace. “Knows me better than anyone. We’ve been friends since high school. They're brilliant. Like… annoyingly brilliant. And funny. And sometimes makes me want to scream, but I miss them the second they're gone.” You blinked, caught a little off guard by the sudden sincerity in his tone. “…That’s… weirdly specific.” He smirked, keeping up the act but stepping closer. “You know them very well.”

“Uh-huh.” You squinted at him, skeptical. “Okay then. What color are their eyes?” Joe stopped walking. Looked right at you. Then leaned in, way too close. Closer than acting should’ve allowed.

“Uhhh…” He waited a moment, his eyes locking with yours. His voice softened. “Whatever this is.”