AN: I don't know what the market's like for another "L is for Love followup" these days, but I thought it'd be fun to give this idea a shot.

A while back, I wrote a story called Stage Kisses, which was about Luan developing romantic feelings for Benny, and while I don't necessarily consider this a sequel to Stage Kisses so much as a mildly interesting 'what if' scenario, this does carry on with and contain references to Benny's characterization from that earlier work, so I'd recommend giving it a read through before continuing with this.

There's probably no need for me to clarify this, but I feel like I should mention that this wasn't written because I hate this ship or anything like that (I still like Luan and Benny and think that they're pretty cute together, and will probably write some more stuff about them at some point), but rather because I love seeing Luan's more emotionally vulnerable side explored, and I thought that this would be a pretty good vehicle with which to do just that. I also kinda feel like a lot of kids around Luan and Benny's age have a tendency to tie in their self-esteems with the idea of being in romantic relationships, and I thought that might make an interesting topic to delve into.

With all of that out of the way, all that's left to say is that this story should run somewhere between three to five chapters long, and that the beginning picks up right after that scene in L is for Love where Benny runs after Luan's love letter on the fishing line.

Lemme know whatcha think, and I hope you enjoy!

Lesser Forms of Love

Comedy, during the time of Shakespeare, did not necessarily refer to a play that contained a plethora of jokes and gags. Rather, a true Elizabethan comedy was merely any play that ended happily. Usually with two of the main characters getting married.

After all, what could possibly be a happier occasion than a wedding?

This was something that Luan had learned at the start of her Theatre 101 class in her freshman year, and while she didn't exactly anticipate getting married anytime soon (hopeless romantic though she had recently turned into over the past few days, she liked to think that she was still self-aware enough to know that thinking that far ahead was certainly overkill), the lesson couldn't help but leap to the forefront of her mind as she ran through the backstage of the high school auditorium, fishing pole in her hands with a long nylon line trailing behind her. Pierced onto a hook at the other end of that line was no nightcrawler or earthworm, but rather an envelope, inside of which Luan had placed a heartfelt confession of love; a far more effective type of bait for the fish that she was trying to catch; Benny. Benny with the brown hair, Benny with the big blue eyes, Benny in the beat-up bowling shirt.

Benny her buddy…Benny her best friend…

Benny boo-boo-bear…

Though she never dared to say it aloud (much as she loved making people laugh, there were still limits to how much she was willing to embarrass herself in front of others), that was another alliterative name that Luan often thought of calling him. Sometimes, when she was all alone, she would mouth it silently to herself, just to see how it felt on her lips. It was a pet-name that she heard at least a hundred times a day from the bedroom across the hall from her's and Luna's, where Lori would spend hours at a time laying on her bed and talking to Bobby on the phone, telling him over and over again and again how much she loved him and missed him and how he was the greatest thing that ever happened to her…

Now it was Luan's turn to join Lori in the sun and enter into a relationship of her very own.

So sweet and earnest; Benny chased after that envelope with the same sort of sincere enthusiasm that Labradors usually reserved for fetching tennis balls, his large feet in his torn sneakers galumphing across the hardwood floor. So awkward, but then again so was she, so that only endeared himself to her even more. Most of the other students that made up the Royal Woods High School drama department had already left for the day following rehearsal, but those that had remained shot the pair strange looks as they ran around laughing without a care in the world, both completely unafraid of being themselves around each other. She was so proud of the way that she could make him laugh. Nobody else did so as well as she.

They must have been made for each other. As Yente the Matchmaker from Fiddler on the Roof might have said; they were a good match; a strong match. Right?

Of course right.

She had to admit though; some small part of her almost wished that he'd trip and fall on a sandbag or loose rope, not because she wanted to see him get hurt, of course, but only so that later, after she had confessed her feelings for him and they'd shared their first true kiss as a couple, she could quip that she had fallen for him just as badly as he had (quite literally) fallen for her. Hardy-har-har-har. Queue the audience laughter and standing ovation. Let the curtain fall. Bring out the whole cast and crew for one final bow…

A cute joke, sure, but while pratfalls had their place, the timing now was definitely not right, and Luan understood better than anyone the importance of proper comedic timing. A good comedienne had to know how to properly pace out her gags in order for them to have the biggest impact possible. Even an absolute rib-tickler of a joke was just as likely to elicit unamused groans instead of laughter if it were to go on for even a nanosecond longer than necessary.

Come to think of it, by her estimation this whole 'fishing pole' bit had just about run its course and was dangerously close to overstaying its welcome.

She decided that it was high-time to deliver the punchline.

Underfunded as they were, the Royal Woods High School drama program didn't exactly offer much in the way of production value. Secondhand Halloween costumes for wardrobe and cheap dollar store props were the norm for every presentation, from the paper crown that sat atop Oberon's head in the Fall 2016 production of A Midsummer Night's Dream to the plastic toy swords that Peter and Captain Hook dueled with in the Spring 2017 production of Peter Pan. When not in use, these items, alongside innumerable others, were kept housed in a mid-sized storage closet just outside the auditorium.

Private and secluded, it struck Luan as the perfect place to tell Benny just what he meant to her.

She burst into that room, switched on the flickery overhead fluorescent light, and ducked behind a metal rack onto which were hung over a dozen red-and-white marching band uniforms, which were dusted off every few years for productions of The Music Man. Seated on the dirty wooden floor and nestled among those outfits, Luan liked to think that the spirit of Howard Hill, the smooth-talking and quick-witted conman with a heart of gold who was the play's main protagonist, was looking down on her with a smile on his face, nodding in approval at what she was up to. While she waited for Benny to catch up with and join her, she started tapping her foot and mumbling the words to 'Rock Island,' The Music Man's crowdpleaser of an opening number, to herself. Mostly so that she'd have a distraction from the butterflies in her stomach. "…He's a music man and he sells clarinets to the kids in the town with the big trombones and the rat-a-tat drums, and the big brass bass, big brass bass, and the piccolo, the piccolo, the uniforms too, with a shiny gold braid on the coat and a big red stripe runnin' down…"

Her chest was something of a rat-a-tat drum itself at the moment.

She always had an affinity and special talent for patter songs, those that required a quick and silver tongue capable of delivering rapid-fire bits of clever wordplay on a dime. One of the hardest times that she had ever worked her comedic muscles was when she flawlessly performed 'The Major-General's Song' from The Pirates of Penzance in front of a packed house at the start of the school year as part of a fundraiser to raise money for the theatre club. Having honed her skills through years of doing standup and delighting young children as a birthday entertainer, she had no trouble at all with getting up on stage and singing her heart out in front of hundreds of people. Five hundred and ninety-seven people, to be precise, as that was the High School auditorium's maximum occupancy.

So why was it that now she was so nervous at the prospect of revealing her most inner feelings to a single boy, one who surely couldn't have been anything other than her soulmate?

Life was just funny like that sometimes, she supposed.

She heard the door to the storage closet creak open, and when she brushed aside one of the uniforms on the rack she saw Benny standing in the doorway, smiling his crooked smile as he scanned the room in search of his best friend, blissfully unaware of how their friendship was about to blossom into something so much more fulfilling. The envelope lay face down on the floor in front of him, and when he reached to pick it up Luan scrambled to grab her fishing pole and reel it in, her heartbeat no longer a mere rat-a-tat drum but instead seventy-six trombones leading a big parade. Absurdly, she did not cease her singing even as that parcel glided towards her. If anything, she only picked up the pace. "…No, the fellow sells bands, boys' bands, I don't know how he does it but he lives like a king and he dallies and he gathers and he plucks and he shines and when the man dances certainly, boys, what else? The piper pays him! Yes sir, yes sir, yes sir, yes sir…" The envelope slid to a halt directly before her, and yet Benny was nowhere to be found. Distracted as she was by her song and the whir of the fishing reel and the excitement of the moment, she must have lost track of the sound of his footsteps. "…When the man dances, certainly, boys, what else? The piper pays him! Yessssir, yessssir…"

A single second of silence followed, and then Benny swept aside the costumes on the frame like he were a stage-hand pulling back the curtain on the show of a lifetime. "But he doesn't know the territory!" he proclaimed with a joyous grin on his face, singing the final line of 'Rock Island' in Luan's stead. His sudden appearance took her by surprise and she let out a small involuntary yelp, but bright laughter from the both of them followed in its wake, as it always did when they were together and indulged in any of their inside jokes. Spontaneously singing old showtunes in duets was something that they shared with no one else. Not Benny with his father, nor Luan with her parents, sisters, or brother.

'Course, the members of her family all had their own private jokes amongst themselves as well, but never mind that fact.

As their mirth died down, Benny took a seat right in front of Luan, folding his legs criss-cross applesauce and leaning forward to take the bait once and for all, grabbing the envelope hesitantly as if half-expecting her to pull it away once again. To her surprise, however, he didn't immediately rip it open as soon as it was in his clasp. Instead, he merely held it in his hand as he struck up a conversation, almost like he were happy to take his time and simply enjoy the moment with her. This made Luan feel a bit impatient, but she supposed that she could stand a few more minutes of being nothing more than his friend. "Ah, The Music Man," he said contentedly. "An absolute classic!" Benny always did have the habit of referring to most of the plays and films that he liked as 'absolute classics,' and while Luan's response was to smirk and roll her eyes, in truth it was just one of his many little quirks that she had grown to adore. "I ever tell you that's the play that made me want to be an actor?" he asked offhand.

Luan perked up at this new piece of information. "No kiddin'?" she said, looking forward to hearing his explanation as to why. They spoke of many things during their times spent together, from gossiping about the other kids in theatre club to cracking terrible puns to discussing the finer aspects of film and comedy, but none of that meant as much to her as when they would open up and reveal to each other in complete sincerity different facets of their personal lives. Such was the strength of their bond. They knew things about each other that no one else did, and were utterly comfortable with this.

'Course, there were many a night when, gripped by insomnia, Luan and Luna would lay awake in their bunk-bed and talk until sunrise, sharing with each other their hopes and dreams and anxieties about their futures. She supposed that Luna also knew things about her that no one else did, as did Lori, and Leni, and Lincoln, etc…like she were a prism with many different surfaces, and whenever any of those closest to her shone their light through her, it was refracted in totally unique ways for each of them. But never mind that fact.

Back to Benny.

"Yup! You remember how, back in elementary school, twice a year the teachers would take us out of classes for a few hours and we'd get to go over to the high school to watch the drama department do their dress rehearsals?" She nodded yes. Of course she remembered. Those were some of the best times she ever had in grades one through six. Some of the only genuinely good times, as a matter of fact. "Well, when I was in third grade, it was The Music Man. Everybody looked like they were having so much fun, like it was just a bunch of friends singing and dancing and goofing around. I mean, I always loved theatre, but that was the first time that it really dawned on me that it was something that I could become a part of while I was still young." Luan smiled, happy to realize that her choice of location was now all of a sudden infused with even more meaning. Benny was so lucky; now the sight of marching band uniforms would, from this day onwards, not only remind him of what had brought about his passion for acting, but of the moment that he took his friendship with her to the next level. "What about you?" he asked, and she realized that she had been staring at him with a sickly-sweet grin on her face. "What play made you want to be an actress?" He was such a generous conversationalist, always wanting to hear her talk, always asking her questions about herself. What's your favorite Marx Brothers' movie, Luan? Who's the better silent comedian in your opinion; Charlie Chaplin or Buster Keaton? What's your favorite song from West Side Story? He must have loved hearing her perspectives on things. It was enough to make her feel so cherished. "Let me guess; The Producers?"

A fair guess, but incorrect. Much as she loved The Producers, and much as its gags never failed to make her giggle uncontrollably, there was a far more obscure musical that she had in mind. "Actually," she said sheepishly, both sorry to correct him and a little embarrassed, "it was Honk!"

He held back a small laugh. "Seriously?" Clearly, she was right to be embarrassed. "You mean the Ugly Duckling musical?" By his tone, she could tell that he was not impressed with her choice.

She chuckled, laughing it off. "Hey, gimme a break, I was eight, I hadn't developed good taste yet," she said. "I just thought it was kinda funny and cute is all…" Accurate, but not exactly the full story. In fact, that barely scratched the surface of the play's significance to her, though much as she loved opening up to him, she didn't feel the need to elaborate. She knew that couples weren't supposed to keep secrets from one another (she had heard Lori use this fact to guilt Bobby into telling her things over the course of their relationship), but seeing as technically Benny and she weren't a couple just yet, she saw no harm in keeping at least a few things to herself. At least for a while longer.

"Well, I guess Honk! has it's charms," Benny admitted with a smile. "It's got a few pretty great songs, for one thing." He cleared his throat and made like he was about to launch into a one-man rendition of 'A Poultry Tale,' the play's opening number, and while ordinarily she loved hearing him sing, by this point she couldn't bear waiting another minute.

"Aren't you going to open that?" she asked, reminding him of the envelope in his hand.

The song caught in his throat and he looked to the paper as if he had forgotten that it was there. "This'd better not be another one of your pranks," he warned with a playful smirk as he used his thumbnail to tear open the flap. "I still haven't forgiven you for putting a whoopee cushion on my chair the other day."

"Oh, I think you'll forget all about that once you see what's inside," she said, her voice all sing-song and mock-sweet. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so giddy.

Benny's big blue eyes went as wide as twin moons when he reached into the folds of the envelope and pulled out what was inside; two small rectangular slips of paper in red and gold, elaborate cursive writing embossed on their fronts, as if they came from a more elegant time in history. As he looked them over and read what was scrawled on their surfaces, it suddenly dawned on him just what exactly they were. "Oh my god…" he quietly said, his tone reverential. "Luan, are these-"

"Yup!" she interrupted cheerfully, unable to contain her excitement. "Two tickets to see Fiddler on the Roof tomorrow night at the Detroit Opera House! I figured since you and I are gonna audition to be Tevye and Golde in the Spring production, this would be a great opera-tunity to do some research firsthand and see how the professionals play the parts!" Before she could chuckle at her oh-so-clever puns and ask Benny if he 'got it,' she felt her body constricted in a tight hug that squeezed the wind from her lungs, her soon-to-be boyfriend's chin resting on and digging into her shoulder, somehow both pleasant and unpleasant all at once. Never before had she met a boy who was so casually affectionate and comfortable with hugging her.

Other than her father, of course, and Lincoln.

But never mind that fact.

"You have no idea how much this means to me," he said, his voice overflowing with emotion, though she did have some idea. Benny and his father never really had much money to spend on frivolous things like theatre tickets, except for the occasional cheap amateur production or free visit to Shakespeare in the Park, and while funds were stretched thin across thirteen people in her own family, the one-hundred and sixty dollars she had spent for passes to the Opera House was a drop in the bucket compared to what she had saved over the years from Funny Business. Perhaps part of her was subtly trying to imply that she could provide for him. "This is the best present I've ever been given." She heard him sniffle quietly and could have sworn that she felt a few teardrops land on her back and soak through her blouse. So sensitive and in touch with his feelings; it was how she knew that her confession of love would be reciprocated with a beautiful and heartfelt soliloquy straight out of a sappy 1950's romance film. Though she knew that she could be snarky and irreverent at times with her humor, she appreciated his wide-eyed and genuine nature. They complimented each other well, she felt.

Together, it was like they made up one whole person. That must have been why all of the characters that she saw on television were always telling their spouses or girlfriends or boyfriends, "you complete me."

He broke away from the hug and used the back of his wrist to dry his eyes, looking a bit embarrassed of himself. Luan, who much preferred his laughter to his tears, had just the pun in mind to put him at ease. "Well, you know me," she said. "Always pushing the envelope!" She had been waiting hours for an excuse to use that line.

Anyone else would have groaned, but not Benny. His snorting laugh landed like a trumpet on the ear, and just like that the tension of the moment was broken. Glancing at the fake plastic tree in the corner that's primary purpose was as set-decoration for productions of Waiting for Godot, inspiration seemed to strike for a joke of his very own. "You definitely deserve props for that one, Luan!"

She chuckled much harder than was warranted. "Good one!" she lied, then her demeanor quickly turned serious. Smoothly as her plan was thus far working out, there was one final pressing matter to take care of. After all, the tickets were only the second most valuable things that she had intended to give to Benny. "Speaking of props; I prop-ose that you look in the envelope again!"

Curious, Benny did as requested and quickly discovered that he had missed a crucial detail before, that being the folded sheet of paper within the envelope. He took it out, unfurled it, and was greeted with beautiful hand-drawn pictures of fish and whales and other creatures of the sea. Suddenly, Luan's choice to use a fishing pole to lure him into the storage closet made a lot more sense. At the center of everything, she had written a declaration of love in the language that she was most fluent in; puns.

"'I fish I had told you sooner that my love for you is reel,'" Benny read aloud, sounding confused. "'So as not to leave you with bait-ed breath, let me say it now; I'm hooked on you!'" Some of Luan's best work, if she did say so herself. For once, however, Benny didn't seem to think that her jokes were very funny. He only stared at the paper, a slow look of realization crossing his face as he processed this tectonic shift in his worldview. "This isn't a prank, is it?" he asked, sounding almost hopeful, like he wanted more than anything for Luan to burst out laughing and yell 'gotcha!'

Not exactly the reaction that she had in mind, but then again she couldn't blame him for his skepticism. She did have a reputation as a master prankster. No matter. All he needed was a little assurance that what she had written was completely genuine. "No Benny," she said with a soft smile but no trace of humor in her voice. "No pranks; no jokes." She did as they had done a few rare times before and slid her palm over his hand, wondering why it felt so stiff and lifeless at her touch, like it belonged to a mannequin. She told herself that it was only her imagination; that, if anything, the storage closet was simply poorly heated, and that Benny was just a bit cold and in need of her love to make him warm again. "For once, I'm being completely serious. I think that you are sweet, and funny, and kind, and, um, you know…c-cute…" She blushed furiously at that, but pressed on. "And I think that, deep down, you must feel the same way about me, so I thought I'd spare you the trouble of making the first move and do it for you."

Those big blue eyes started leaking once again, and a glassy layer of tears appeared on the bottom rim of his eyelids. Now this is more like it, Luan thought to herself. It was just the right level of emotionality that she had expected. "Oh Luan…" he said, unable to speak above a broken whisper.

"And maybe…if you wanted…we could make our trip to the Opera House our first date. You know; as a couple. Whaddya say?" It was a question asked solely out of formality. She already knew what his answer was. All that was left for him to do was lean forward and kiss her on the lips. She closed her eyes, smiled wider, and braced herself for her imminent ascension into a whole new stratosphere.

"…I am so, so sorry."

Through the aorta and atrium and ventricles and other assorted chambers of Luan's heart, a long parade marched.

It was led, as The Music Man's big showstopping number described, by seventy-six trombones, one hundred and ten cornets, and rows upon rows of the finest virtuosos, all marching to the steady firecracker beat of a snare drum and playing triumphant victory songs while cheerleaders wearing shako hats with feathery plumes on top twirled batons so swiftly that they produced a sound that was like a helicopter's whirring blades. Following close behind were elaborate floats, from which men and women with fancy ribbon sashes across their chests waved and threw candy to the cheering onlookers. Horses trotted along, and floating above it all were gigantic balloons of Saturday morning cartoon characters.

Bringing up the rear, as was the case with many parades, were firetrucks.

Benny's apology must have lit an inferno somewhere, because suddenly the discordant blare of sirens was added to the mixture of brass instruments. At once it was pandemonium; the firetrucks' speed accelerated from a slow crawl to a breakneck clip, and like a combine harvester through a cornfield, everything in its path was obliterated. Parade-marchers had to leap out of the way lest they be run over. Drivers and riders abandoned their floats and handlers let go of their lengths of twine as they escaped the truck's path of destruction, letting those massive parade balloons drift up and away, never to be seen again.

After that, silence. There was no more music to be played, and certainly no more victory songs. What victory, after all, was there to celebrate?

"You're…sorry?"

Luan's voice wavered, and inside, her soul lay in shattered pieces; fragments of a broken mirror in a plastic bag, the sides stretching and tearing. No longer did she believe that the spirit of Howard Hill was watching over her with a kind smile on his face, but instead she could have sworn that she heard him cruelly laughing at her; him, along with all of the other theatre characters who's spirits haunted the storage closet.

Benny nodded shyly and retracted his hand from her's, rubbing at his arm nervously as if he had just received a shot to the bicep. This whole experience, to him, must have felt rather like an unpleasant medical procedure that he couldn't wait to be over with. "I mean, I'm really flattered," he said regretfully. "I just don't, um…I don't…" He choked on his words, his mouth moving but nothing coming out, like he were a mudskipper that had spent too much time out of the water and was starting to suffocate. Finally, he forced a confession of his own from his throat. "…Feel that way…"

"But why not?" Luan asked, not caring if the question came across as absurd or childish. "Did I do something wrong?"

Never before had she seen such a panicked look come to his eyes. "No, of course not!" he was quick to insist. "It's not like that at all! I just…" His alarmed tone faded away, and Benny seemed to withdraw to himself, looking away from Luan's pained gaze and staring instead at the floor. "…I just have my own personal reasons is all."

Such a vague answer did nothing to assuage her worries. Everything that Luan knew about relationships was gleamed either from her parents, Lori and Bobby, or from television, films, and plays, and while Lori and Bobby had never broken up, and her parents were very happily married, Luan had seen enough sitcoms in her life to know that anytime anyone used the 'it's not you, it's me' excuse, they were lying. It was practically a cliché. No, it had to have been her fault and her fault alone for failing to inspire true love from Benny. Her only hope was to try to pinpoint which of her many fatal flaws was too overpowering for him to look past. Then, perhaps, she could try to fix what was wrong with her. "Is it my teeth?" she asked desperately, completely ignoring his point. "It's my teeth, isn't it?"

Benny appeared horrified by her self-abasement. "No way!" he insisted. "Your teeth are great; they're, like, your trademark. Picturing Luan Loud without her buck-teeth and braces would be like picturing Chaplin without his mustache and bowler hat; it'd just look wrong."

Truly, he must have been an incredible actor. She was never that impressed with his performances during rehearsals before, but now she could almost believe that he meant what he was saying. Almost. She knew better though. There had to have been something the matter with her for him to not want to take their friendship to the next level, and she was determined to find out what it was. Her mind raced through all of the things that she had ever been told to her face by other children in school or heard whispered behind her back. "Is it my voice? My jokes? I know I can be annoying sometimes-"

"You are not annoying," he said strongly. "You're the funniest person I've ever met, and I mean that. You're perfect just the way you are." Luan almost wanted to stand up and applaud his performance; even when she looked into his eyes, the illusion that he was telling the truth did not break.

She quickly grew tired of guessing. "Then what is it?" she pleaded. "Why don't you like me?"

"I do like you, Luan; probably more than I've ever liked anyone else before. I'd even go so far as to say that I love you."

"You know what I mean," she curtly fired back.

He sighed and pressed his palms into his eyes, emotionally exhausted. "…Like I said, I have my own personal reasons," he repeated solemnly. "You, um, remember what I told you once? About me and my dad?"

"Yeah, sure," she replied with apathy. She remembered the night well; it was the first time that they had ever touched hands. Now the memory was tarnished, and she knew that whenever she looked back on it from this day forward, it would inspire nothing but pangs of sorrow. She wondered vaguely if Benny's pleasant memories of watching The Music Man as a child would similarly be tainted by virtue of the play's costumes providing set dressing to his rejection of her advances. Somehow, she doubted it. Clearly she didn't mean as much to him as he did to her. "You said that ever since you were little, it's just been you two alone and no one else." She couldn't see what that had to do with anything.

"Right, and even then, him and I have never really had that much in common." He took his hands from his now bloodshot eyes, staring into Luan's face with all of the warmth that he could muster. "You are so, so lucky, Luan, to have such a big family. All my life, I've always wanted a brother or a sister; you know, somebody that I could really connect with…" He paused, managed a weak smile, and forged ahead. "Then I met you…" She hated the direction in which she was being led, but felt utterly powerless to do anything about it. She'd had a few sleep paralysis nightmares in her life before; hyper realistic dreams in which she'd wake up in her bed unable to move while shadowy figures in the corner of her room watched and slowly advanced towards her. The terrible feelings that such nightmares inspired were nothing compared to what she felt now. All she could do was sit and listen as Benny said the worst thing that he possibly could have told her. "That's what I see you as, Luan," he said, his voice swelling with emotion. "You're the sister I've always wanted."

He delivered the line like it were the big emotional climax in a Broadway musical, sounding every bit as heartfelt as Luan did when she told him how she felt. It was almost like he believed that his love, in its own way, was as strong as her's. Luan knew better, though. The words stuck to her chest like a yellow consolation ribbon, the sharp pin piercing through to her heart. Not much of a prize, all told.

Picking up on her disappointment, he held the tickets back out in front of him, nearly urging her to take them back. "I, um, understand if you don't want to go see Fiddler with me anymore."

"Why wouldn't I?" she said with the bare-minimum of emotion. She must not have been as capable an actor as he apparently was, as she couldn't bring herself to put on a happy face, but the least she could do was try not to come across as emotionally dead. "We're still friends, right?" Just friends. Only friends. Nothing more than friends. "Friends hang out with each other." Funny how one little word could make such a difference. The distinction was subtle, yet oh so profound; had she been able to say that they were going out rather than merely hanging out, perhaps then she would not have felt so empty.

Benny allowed himself to perk up slightly, eagerly hoping that everything could continue on as usual. "It'll still be loads of fun!" he assured her with a too-wide smile. "I've only ever seen pictures of it online and in books, but the Opera House is such a beautiful theatre. I can't wait to see it in person! And Fiddler is my all-time favorite show ever. As a Jewish kid who grew up without a whole lot of money, I don't think there's a song that I relate to more than 'If I Were a Rich Man.'" He slowly began snapping his fingers, quietly singing in his beautiful voice, "If I were a rich man, yubby dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dum…" and looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to join in, desperate for any kind of reassurance that they could still carry on like nothing had changed between them.

Such a reassurance did not arrive. Instead, she simply got up from off the floor and said bluntly, "I've gotta go," pushing aside the rack of costumes and walking towards the exit without so much as a glance over her shoulder.

Benny's song cut out mid-lyric as he sadly watched her leave. "Oh, okay," he said timidly. "I'll, um, text you later?"

"Right, sure," she acknowledged without enthusiasm.

Just as her hand reached out to grip the doorknob, she heard him calling after her once again. "Are you okay, Luan?" He sounded truly concerned. "I mean, we can talk about this a little more if you want."

The absolute last thing she wanted was to discuss this matter any further. "Yeah, I'm fine," she lied through gritted teeth. "I've just gotta go now if I wanna catch the late bus home." Music of a much different sort came to her mind at that moment; a song from what Benny had once told her was his favorite Marx Brothers' movie. "It's like Groucho said in Animal Crackers; Hello, I must be going, I came to say, I cannot stay, I must be going, I'm glad I came but just the same I must be going, la la~" The song came forth from her mouth as a lament instead of the lighthearted tune that it was in the film. She didn't even realize as she sang that tears were welling up in her eyes.

Instead of joining in with the next verse, Benny only stared at her sorrowfully. "Luan, are you sure you're okay?" Only a few moments prior, he had so wished for her to sing alongside him, but now he couldn't bring himself to add his voice to the duet.

Her only answer was to continue on with her song. "…I'll stay a week or two, I'll stay the summer through, but I am telling you, I must be going~"

And thus she left the storage closet behind, shutting the door on all of those props that looked so real when viewed from a distance in theatre seats but when examined up close were revealed to be chintzy and fake-looking.

She was overcome with nostalgia for the days when she could believe in everything that she saw on the stage.