"Hey, [Name]! Can you set the stage for us? We are trying to take care of the lights and the sound!"

You looked over at the stage crew member and you nodded in response. Moving over to the side of the stage, you fished out one of the many boxes labeled 'stage props' and, with the help of an enhanced strength spell, picked it up with ease. It was all you had been doing this whole day—picking up heavy boxes and putting them down on another spot.

A mother who worked with you at the convenience store had begged you to take over her shift at a theater studio because her son had gotten sick all of a sudden. She had refused all the alternative solutions you offered, such as taking a sick leave or letting you see him so you could discreetly bring the child back to health. You only reluctantly accepted the job after hearing that you would be compensated; a few extra bucks could never go wrong, and it wasn't like you had anything else to do after work anyway!

The waves rushed your way for the most part until you realized where the studio planned to hold their next public announcement play at. That was when your reluctance to help turned into legitimate disdain as you found yourself, with a cardboard box in hand, that you were standing in front of the gate to Jisung's school.

It had been too late for you to back down from the job at that point. Unfortunately, you were also never one to convincingly fake an emergency. Not that these people would listen to you, anyway! These theatre people liked to take everything as a dramatic fake-out, it seemed! The only option you had were either to teleport away from the spot or to work along in hopes that neither you nor Jisung would notice each otters's presence.

You weren't sure the play was for students his grade, anyway! There was really no need to feel agitated!

After your co-workers realized you have the strength of a literal God, they have deemed you the person to do anything that needs even the tiniest bit of power, like picking up boxes that actually weren't very heavy... disregarding the obvious bias you have when you weren't feeling the full weight of those stage equipments. You chose not to complain, though, because they might have saved you some issues by making you work backstage most of the time.

That meant you wouldn't need to stand in the school assembly hall when the group begin their performance. After actively avoiding Jisung for several days (not that you knew if he was even looking for you), accidentally bumping into him was the last thing you wanted to happen. Not the mention, you knew he would strike up a conversation, and you had no desire to make a quick escape from any.

You have to admit, though, it was a miracle how you once again ended up at his doorsteps. All these coincidences that called for the encounters of you and him had been butchering your plan to a lifetime of loneliness. But you could not say you hate it all that much. Jisung was rather good company whether you like it or not. And amongst all the internal issues of yours, you have to admit you enjoyed his brief presence.

You did not hate being around him too much. Not to a point where you could defy destiny, anyway.

After putting up the folded, extremely wrinkled, heavily decorated cardboard made to serve as a backdrop, you stumbled back a few steps and clapped your hands together to congratulate yourself for finishing the handiwork. The set-up looked fine to your standard, as well as the concept picture your colleagues have shown you. If anything was to be changed, they would just have to call for your help or do it themselves.

Now all you needed to do was to hide behind those red curtains and never see the light of day until the show ends.

"[Name], can you also set up the microphone for the narrator?"

Yeah, alright. So it takes five seconds to adjust the height and plug in the cord. You shall be fine and it shall be fun.

Moving over to the podium, you grabbed one microphone from the row of spare ones and turned it on. A click could be heard through the speakers. You hummed, hitting the top of it with your hand to make sure the volume was enough. The speaker reflected the noise a few times as you did, and you nodded to yourself in approval.

Leaving to pick up the microphone stand, you held it up and walked to the visible edge of the stage. After putting the mic into the holder, you busied yourself with moving the cord around in case any people would trip over it. There will always be one person who trips over it no matter how visible those giant black electric tubes were.

The calm was interrupted when the doors to the assembly hall opened. Not calmly, though. They were flung open like someone was late to an important meeting. But that was not where your main focus remained. Your eyes grazed past the doors to the familiar loud voice that was rapidly spilling words out to his classmates, accompanied by an exhausted teacher trying to shut the voice up.

Despite knowing who it was already, you perked up and kept your eyes at the doors anyway. There Jisung stood, hands waving erratically at his less energetic friend as he rambled on and on about an occasion he had during lunch.

You felt a gentle heat rush to your cheeks. Surely it was from knowing that you had been ghosting him (without him knowing, which wasn't really ghosting then) for days. If you two met eyes, it would be the most embarrassing and confronting for you.

Thankfully, his attention was completely diverted. It gave you the time to quickly fix the microphone stand and move away to hide. Whipping your head around to fixate your gaze at the back of the red and velvet stage curtain, you quickly and carelessly moved your legs in hopes to get away from the stage as soon as possible. However, the second you stepped forward, you felt your leg being pulled down onto the ground and your body lurched forward.

Along with the rest of his class, Jisung snapped his head over to the loud thud coming from the stage. His eyes widened a fraction when he watched as the fallen body slowly scrambled up from the ground. Glancing over to his friend, amid the snickers and gasps, he gave a sympathetic grimace before turning his head back to see if the fallen person has finally gotten up.

"Oh, [Name]! You gotta be careful! You know someone always trips over the cords!"

His eyes were now wider than ever. His animated hands had fallen from mid-air and hit his sides while he kept his eyes focused on your figure. You had perked up at your co-worker's words, your eyes filled with deep-seated frustration at the fact that he called out your name so loudly. You were sure the whole class that just walked in knew who you were now.

You scoffed at the irony as you helped yourself up with a low mutter. "Yeah, I know."

Dusting your body with your violent hands, your face contained a constant grimace that you wished your co-worker had the sense to realize was meant only for him. As you habitually turned to scan your surroundings, Jisung felt a sense of softness once he was able to see your face clearly. Oh, yes. He could recognize that unsatisfied gaze and that downturned lips anywhere. You were the [Name] he knew of.

You caught eyes with him for a brief moment. He held your gaze with a small smile as he raised a hand timidly for a friendly wave, and you willed your face not to heat up. It was just Han Jisung. Nothing very special about it. If you don't make a big deal out of this, you assumed neither would he. Even though you just fell face first on the ground in front of everyone.

You sniffed in a breath, the pursing of your lips lightening up at his warm gesture. If he was feeling any kind of repulsiveness towards you then he was not showing it, or maybe he just genuinely did not feel an ounce of embarrassment for you.Your mind just liked to tell you weird things and you liked to listen to it.

A second passed for you to raise your hand to wave back at him but you were abruptly interrupted when your co-worker reached out to speak to you.

"I think we are all set here. Good job," he said after taking a scan of the stage. "We have people attending backstage so you should go sit at the back of the hall and watch the performance!"

You stared at him in disbelief. With a laugh, you shook your head to turn down the offer. "That is fine. I think I can stay in the back and wait–"

"No need! You have helped to carry things around the whole day. You can go sit at the back," he insisted cheerfully, causing your heart to drop because it seemed like he didn't have the attitude to listen to anything you have to say.

You remained silent when he placed his hands on your shoulders and turned you around so you could head to the stairs that would lead you off the stage. You continued to walk when he let go of you, your hands busy scrubbing at your wrists to release the red strings that adorned them. The tightness of the strings hadn't left a mark yet. There was still plenty of magic left in them, so you shoved them in your pocket when they loosened around your skin.

Looking up ahead, your legs did an automatic pause when you saw Jisung sitting on the first chair of the first row. You had not been paying attention enough to realize that his class has walked to the front of the audience area, and due to being one of the shortest in his class, Jisung was placed at the front of the line, hence seated on the first chair.

You gave him a look, hardening your gaze pointedly at him that Jisung shrunk back down to the seat and was forced to only pout up at you. Softening at his reaction, you felt a rush of gentle remorse up your ears. He was as warm and welcoming as ever. You supposed you, too, felt glad to have been him again. Part of you wanted to chat with him after that night at the convenience store. About nothing specific, just anything, like the weather.

Removing your hand from your pocket and rubbing them together for the sake of fidgeting, you looked out for the teachers and the other classes filing into the hall before you took tentative steps closer to Jisung's seat. He was staring up at you now, his eyes round and wide in anticipation.

When you were within reach, he kicked your ankle lightly a few times before he greeted endearingly, his hand giving you a small wave. "Hello, [Name]."

You couldn't stop the amused smirk that appeared on your face as you returned his greeting with only a faint nod. Stretching you gaze further, you caught sight of his classmates' curious glances and bit your lower lip in caution. You had better not stay for long; you couldn't anyway, you weren't a student at the school.

"Goodbye," you greeted with a curt nod.

He scrunched his brows, surprised at your sudden farewell. You avoided his reach by backing up, but not too much that it would attract attention from others. Immediately upon your reaction, the boy retreated. He wasn't expecting himself to act like that anyway; him reaching out was an involuntary act.

Giving him an unsure smirk, you gestured for him to pay attention to the stage before saying, "We can talk after this ends."

Pulling away from him, you gave the teacher a polite bow and quickly left before you could be ushered out for disturbing the students. As you made little steps toward the back of the hall, you could faintly hear Jisung's friends talking. It sounded like something of a teasing exclaim.