Chapter Text
Michael wants to kick his feet up on the principal’s desk, but he just barely restrains himself. It’s definitely bad enough he literally got caught red-handed, but to add being a general prick would probably not end well.
So he just sits there, waiting for Principal Willows to say something after dragging him into the building after being caught by school security just an hour after class ends (not his best idea.)
She stares him down for a bit, and then says, “I’m not calling the cops...” When he exhales in relief, she adds, “Yet.”
There’s another pause so Michael fills it, “‘Yet’?”
“Vandalism is a serious crime, Michael. And I know being a new student, especially for senior year, isn’t easy-” His jaw clenches. “But tagging the theater isn’t the proper response.”
Michael looks down at his hands, covered in red and purple paint (his previous hair colors before he moved and his mom made him dye it to a more natural color for a “good impression”), “But you’re not calling the cops?”
She cocks her head thoughtfully, looking pensive, “Well, that depends on you.”
“On me?” He almost wants to laugh but if he got a record, his mum would kill him.
“I’m going to give you a choice, Michael. Either you clean up your graffiti and work on stage crew for the Fall play, or I call the cops right now.” She rests her hand on the phone on her desk and Michael’s heart races.
He doesn’t know why he keeps repeating her but he says, “Stage crew?”
She removes her hand. “They help the play run.” She says simply, “They run sound, lighting, set design, and cast coordination,” Then she smirks, “I’m sure set design would be up your alley, considering your affinity for art.” She gestures toward him in a non-callous way.
With his tattoos and his three art classes out of eight classes, he could see how she made that assessment. Looks like this school wasn’t as dumbshit as he thought. “I want to get this straight... You won’t call the cops on me if I clean my tag and help the play?”
“A problem with that compromise?” She raises an eyebrow.
“No, I’m just a bit confused.” He says honestly.
“I don’t believe that sending kids to jail or detention for these types of crimes do any good,” Principal Willows says, “I think that giving opportunities to grow rather than to suppress always work out better. And that’s how I choose to run my school.” She reaches for the phone again, “Do you accept my arrangement?”
“Yes. Ma’am. I’ll clean the tag right now.”
“Let me call Felix and have him supervise you,” She grabs the phone, but before she dials she says, “Good choice, Michael.”
+
Michael texts his mom that he’ll be home late again to work on something for school, and all he receives in reply is “Are u lying to me??”
Sighing, he shoves his phone into his jeans’ pocket and walks into the theater. The place is not crowded with people, but they’re all insanely fucking loud and... vibrant. It’s already irritating.
Not nervously, Michael sticks his hands in his jean jacket’s pockets and walks up to the only person who looks like an adult: an older dude with tanned skin and bleached hair. Nice.
He’s talking to a student so Michael just waits awkwardly in the wings. The student is taller than the teacher. Bright blond hair, bright blue eyes, bright tannish skin, and he’s honestly just kind of bright and pretty. Michael might hit on him later, but he likes his guys a bit more rugged. And shorter than him. But the blond part works for him. Since he might as well, he eavesdrops on the conversation, but it seems to be about sound mixing and Michael’s interest is immediately lost.
Eventually, the teacher finally turns to him. “Hey there, you seem new. I’m Mr. Feldmann but you can call me ‘Feldy’ if you want.” He extends his hand for a handshake. Michael may be a reject but he’s not rude so he shakes his hand.
Feldy keeps the hand in his grasp and looks at the paint that’s still stained on his fingers and one of his favorite tattoos, “Ah. You must be Mr. Clifford, the boy who vandalized our theater.” The old guy looks him in the eye but Michael just levels the look. “I don’t take kindly to people who disrespect the arts.” He drops his hand like it burns.
Michael exhales and runs the hand that was just dropped through his nutella brown hair, “Look... Feldy, I wasn’t targeting or disrespecting, your theater. I’ve been here two weeks and had no f- idea where anything is. I just tagged the building that seemed secluded. Obviously didn’t work.” He shoves his hands in his pockets again. “I really don’t want a record and, honestly, I like art so I won’t sabotage your play. Promise.”
“How good is your word?” As Michael tries to think of a good response, he notices that everyone is staring at them. At him. And he tries not to show it bothers him, especially since he has no idea how much they could’ve heard.
“If I personally fuck up your show, you can shave my head and have Principal Willows call the cops on me.”
Feldy’s eyes look up at his hair, then at his general face, then back down at his eyes for their staring contest. “Sounds like a deal.”
Michael sits off to the side a bit when Feldy starts his speech. “Alright Thespians, let’s get this started. Since there are no... more new faces in the crowd since last time,” Everyone looks at Michael. Michael keeps his face bored. “I’ll skip the long, standard intros. I’m Feldy. I’m in charge of most of everyone. But here are the main seniors who’ll be in charge of most of the rest we'll be doing.”
Four people stand and move to the floor in front of the stage. There’s the Tall Blond he saw earlier, an equally-tall guy with black hair, tattoos and blond streaks holding a clipboard, a very tiny, petite dark blonde girl, and a taller but not as tall blond guy who is most certainly Michael’s type. Like, holy fucking shit his arms.
“Luke, go ahead and start.”
“Alright then. I’m Luke Hemmings. I’m an actor and also Head Sound Tech. If you’re interested in helping out with stuff like mic packs and sound engineering, I’m always free to talk about that stuff,” He smiles and waves.
Michael resists the urge to scoff at the enthusiasm and just sinks back in his seat a bit more.
The black-haired guy starts next, “Hey there, I’m Calum Hood. I’m also an actor, but I’m also the cast coordinator. Which means that as soon as we figure out who’s who, I’ll be like your babysitter.” He waggles his eyebrows once and everyone but Michael laughs.
He gestures to the only girl, and she smiles while bouncing a bit, “Hi! I’m Jade Thirlwall, and I am an actress and costume designer. I make sure you all look rad af on stage.”
The last guy waves a bit, and Michael notices he’s blushing, “Umm, hey. I’m Ashton Irwin. I’m in charge of set design.” And that’s apparently it.
Feldy claps, drawing attention back to him. “Okay, let’s start the casting process!”
Oh fuck.