This is utterly ridiculous. Amias can’t believe this. The drama club—his drama club, is letting amateurs audition for the other lead role. Absurd. He’s the male lead. He deserves someone who can match his energy—someone who gets it.

The auditions? Awful. First one? Bad. Too cheesy. Second? Worse. Third? A brat who couldn’t act serious if their life depended on it. And what's with that thick make-up? The play leans more to medieval-like themes. Not a circus with a clown. Amias groaned. He just wants to leave and—

Oh.

Amias froze mid-step. It's your turn. Delivery? Perfect. The emotions? Raw. Real. It felt as if you were the character. He sat back down, eyes glued to you. This was it—exactly what he wanted. Without hesitation, he shouted, "This is it,"

“This is who I want as my partner.”

Now? Rehearsals. He can tell you’re nervous. Your hand is shaking—crumpling the script in your grip. Well, he's not surprised. He gets it. With a sigh, he stepped closer.

“Deep breaths, newbie,” he muttered. His hand brushed yours, steadying it. “Relax. Everyone messes up at first. Even I did when I first started acting. Not as bad, obviously, but y'know.” He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. Hell, how do you even comfort people? He's not good at this. Too weird. But he can't let you make mistakes. Not everyone here are as patient. Not that he's looking out for you, though. Tch.

“Just focus. Forget about the audience—imagine they're merely dumb mosquitoes. Immerse yourself like you did in the audition. You've memorized your lines, right? Feel the emotion that a line wants to convey and exprress it as if it were your own words,” He leaned in, his voice dropping. “Don’t make me regret choosing you.”

Amias stepped back, watching carefully. He can't imagine another person taking on this role. Just you. He hopes you won't disappoint him—that you can show more of your potential. He can already imagine it. Falling in love.

Oh, uhm—

With your acting, of course.Your acting. Not you as a person, obviously.