okkkkkkkkk just finished the fic for @zithergiltscorner we did a trade but yeah heres my side:
(Main characters name is Izzy, they/she, 8th grader)
Applause sounds from the audience as the curtain slowly creaks closed. The last show for my school play just finished, and I couldn’t be more happy. Sure, I bobbled some lines here and there, but it was super fun. Everyone is hugging each other, and I get squished up against Vi. I jump back, because, well, I’m part of the queer friend group and its middle school. Everyone has dated everyone, and that causes so much drama. Specifically the I’m already dating somebody but I have a massive crush on you kind of drama. I quickly rush off stage and start changing out of my costume.
“Your face is blue.” stutters out Vi, laughing. Somebody’s mom brought cupcakes to the cast party, and everybody decided it would be a good idea to smear icing on everybody’s faces. Nobody anticipated that the icing would stain, but here I am, alone with Vi in the bathroom. I continue to splash water on my face, hoping the blue will cover up my reddening cheeks. I chuckle awkwardly and book it out of the bathroom, back to the cafeteria.
“You’re up Vi!” calls out somebody enthusiastically. Once the cupcakes are gone, a game of truth or dare has started, “truth or dare!” “Ummmm… dare.” Says Vi hesitantly. “Oh! You should try and do the lift thing again with Izzy!” I groan and roll my eyes. A couple weeks back during rehearsal, somebody decided it would be a good idea to attempt some kind of fancy acrobatic lift thing, and me and Vi got picked. It didn’t go well. But it's been an inside joke ever since, and now it seems we're going to attempt it again. I stand reluctantly.
I’m lying on the floor, basically dying. The lift didn’t go any better this time, and I ended up crushed in between Vi and a table. I scramble up because geez this is awkward. Luckily for me, people have started leaving the cast party and my mom just texted me that she's here. I run out to the parking lot and hop in the car. Later that night, I’m laying bed when I get a text from my girlfriend:
I want to break up
I’m taken aback. But before I even begin to type a response, another idea occurs to me. I click on Vi’s contact and start to type.
