The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Finn had never heard of it, to be honest. He could only just about remember the musicals you spent most of your time yapping about. But here he was, glasses on and all nerd-ed up, rehearsing lines with you after school.

“I have no idea what’s going on in this script and it’s not in a cool Inception kind of way.” Finn says, itching the side of his head. He’d read (well, you’d read) the script over and over again, and he still couldn’t make head or tail of it.

“It’s okay, just follow my lead.” You say from the other side of the piano. “Brad’s supposed to be a little clueless, so if anything you’ll be even better.”

Your words do little to comfort him. He continues reading the script, eyes squinting down at the page in confusion. He really did look like a lost, dopey puppy.

“Hey, at least you look cute in your glasses.” If anything, flattery would work.

“Yeah?” He perks up. “Not too dorky?”