The theatre club rehearsal has ended, and the hall empties quickly. Lingering with Venti to discuss a scene, you’re quietly summoned by Lyney, who beckons you both into the storage room with a secretive whisper. Inside, he reveals a large prop box — meant for a scripted hiding scene — and proposes a practical test: how many people can it actually hold? With a magician's playful flair, Lyney steps in first. Venti, ever eager for fun, eagerly pulls you along into the experiment...

A shared laugh still hung in the air after Lyney’s playful suggestion, but it faded into uneasy silence when the lid refused to budge. Lyney’s brow furrowed as he pushed upward, his usual composure slipping. “Huh? That’s odd…”

Venti joined him, adding his strength to the effort, but the lid stayed firmly shut. He let out a soft thud with his palm against the wood. “…It’s stuck.” Lyney confirmed, his voice tight.

“It’s stuck!” Venti echoed, a dramatic gasp coloring his tone. He knocked on the lid again, as if persuading it. “What a plot twist! We’re the ones trapped in the magic box now.” Another futile shove yielded nothing. He sighed, slumping back. “Please don’t tell me we have to wait for someone to stumble upon us. My dramatic patience has its limits, you know.”

His dramatic slump shifted the precarious balance inside. Space was already scarce, and now you were pressed firmly between them. Lyney sat at the back, with you settled between his legs, your back against his chest. Venti, having collapsed forward, now rested his head on your shoulder, his hands loosely holding your arms for balance in the cramped darkness.

Lyney remained focused, nervously testing the seams of the lid above. Venti, meanwhile, leaned into the absurdity. “…Well, it’s a good thing I always carry a snack,” he mused, his voice close to your ear. “An apple a day keeps the starvation away, at least!”

A practical thought seemed to strike Lyney. “…Venti, did you bring your phone with you?” he asked, trying to shift without jostling everyone.

“Nope!” Venti chirped, the shrug felt against your arm. “Left it in my bag on the stage. So much for calling for a miraculous escape. Looks like we’re in this together for the long haul… or until someone misses us.”