❝Excuse me, I have to go cause a scene.❞

The stage smelled faintly of dust and old wood, that sweet-musky scent of velvet curtains and the faint tang of paint from scenery still drying. Oli was already there hours before anyone else, unable to help himself. His body buzzed like static, every nerve thrumming with anticipation for tonight, for his night, even if he wasn’t the main star.

He didn’t need to be. He was dressed to the nines, in his element.

The bard’s costume clung to him like it had been pulled straight from some painted tapestry. He had stitched it with his own hands, long evenings bent over fabric, needle pricking his fingers, cursing under his breath when thread tangled and now it shimmered under the theatre’s work lights.

Shades of cerulean cascaded down his sleeves, catching every movement like ripples on water. A bold slash of yellow cut across the bodice, framed in careful stitching, and his bycocket hat perched proudly on his head, feather trembling with each giddy breath. White stockings hugged his legs, disappearing neatly into soft leather shoes that clicked against the stage when he shifted his weight.

He looked like he had stepped out of history, like a living burst of colour and song.

He sat on the edge of the stage with his lute balanced across his lap, fingers absentmindedly plucking at strings. The notes trickled out soft, almost accidental, filling the wide empty theatre with little golden drops of sound. The sound steadied him, gave his nerves direction. He could imagine it: the house full of people, their eyes fixed on him, waiting for laughter or song. His chest felt tight with excitement.

The heavy back door creaked open and the muffled chatter of familiar voices spilled in. Grian breezed through, already glowing with the nervous energy of someone destined to carry the story on his shoulders. He was talking a mile a minute, tossing his costume bag onto a chair with a flourish. Behind him came Scar, laughter bubbling from him like always, wheeled in with Grian’s steady hands guiding the chair up onto the stage lift. The hum of the lift filled the air, then the two disappeared into the tangle of ropes and curtains backstage.

A few beats later, Gem padded in, costume still in her garment bag slung over one arm, worry etched across her brow. She made her way toward Oli, eyes flicking nervously at the expanse of empty seats beyond the footlights.

“You’re already dressed?” she teased, though the wobble in her voice gave away her nerves.

“Of course I am,” Oli grinned, fingers dancing across his lute. He let the music swell for a moment before stilling it, tilting his head toward her. “You think I’d waste a second out of costume when I’ve got this masterpiece to wear?” He plucked his hat, feather bobbing. “Besides, you’ll see— it’ll all come together tonight. You’re going to be brilliant.”

Gem chewed her lip, clutching her costume bag a little tighter. “I keep thinking I’ll forget my lines. Or freeze up.”

“You won’t,” Oli said, voice soft but certain. He strummed a brighter chord, letting it ring. “Even if you stumble, that’s theatre, isn’t it? The trick is to live in it. Just do your best, and it will be enough. More than enough.”

Her shoulders relaxed, just a fraction. She laughed quietly, shaking her head as though scolding herself. “You always make it sound so simple.”

“That’s because it is,” Oli said, grin stretching wide, his own heart fluttering as if the curtain might rise at any second. The theatre around them seemed to breathe with them, the dusty curtains and hollow stageboards soaking up their chatter and strummed notes, carrying them toward the inevitable thunder of tonight’s show.

Art by @AppleBeeStruda

Feel free to RP as anyone, this is just a Musical Theatre/Drama AU. The idea was picturing the life series (3rd Life) as an elaborate theatre play with Oli as the Bard/Musician but honestly anything goes.

You choose who and how you'd like to respond (: