Page 87 of Septembers

“Oh right.” Shit, was he legitimately drunk? Off the soju and Dae. His brain wasn’t working.

“But now that you say that, I have always been curious.” The twist of Dae’s mouth was teasing. “You can read, right? I mean, from the state of your texts…”

Theo pushed his shoulder, grateful for the dissipation of whatever spell he’d been under. “My texts are perfectly acceptable for the times we live in. You’re the one who texts like an octogenarian.”

“Ah, yes, eighty-year-olds, famous texters.”

Theo refused to admit that he’d had no idea that word meant someone was in their eighties. He just thought it meant they were old. “Yes, you should ask them for some pointers. They probably know more about trends than you.”

Dae deflected a poke aimed at his ribs and held Theo’s hands down to prevent any more attacks, both of them holding back their laughter as they traded empty insults.

It was good to have him back.

Inconceivable!

The Immersive Princess Bride event was a transformative experience in university. Caleb noticed a sticker on Avery’s shoe, Theo met Jordan, and Jason wore the pink feathered boa as they ordered their early-morning poutine. That evening brought a bunch of scared, excited first-years together into a situation where everyone was ridiculous, so no one was ridiculous.

And Dae had missed it. He’d been alone in his room, too shy to interact.

So, when Theo saw the poster for The Princess Bride Live, he didn’t relent until Dae agreed to go. Caleb and Avery were on the road with their latest gig, so Theo, Dae, Jason, Jordan, and Becks dressed up to re-live the experience. Theo had always regretted not dressing up during frosh, so this time, he donned a black outfit and mask, which, with his wavy dark blonde hair, actually made him look like Wesley. Jason went as Prince Humperdink, Jordan recreated her Fezzik costume, and Becks, whom Theo was actively trying not to detest with his entire soul, pulled off a pretty solid Princess Buttercup.

Jordan assessed Dae with an appraising look. “Your Inigo Montoya is spot-on, but you can’t show up without a moustache. You’ll be laughed out of the theatre.”

He had thrown himself into recreating the iconic look, complete with a dollar store curly mullet wig and faux-leather vest, but Jordan was right; the moustache was essential. Theo took his arm and led him into the bathroom.

“Here.” He tapped the counter and Dae obeyed, leaning against it and bending forwards to give Theo full access to his face. It was almost infuriating how smooth and soft his skin was. Not even the harsh light bouncing off the white tiles could make him look like any less of a dreamboat.

Theo took some eyeliner from Jordan’s makeup bag to draw on Dae’s upper lip. His mouth was such an alluring shape, lips curved and plump, pink and⁠—

“Theo?”

“What?” Shit. “Almost done.”

Fucking focus. He looked between Dae and a picture of Inigo on his phone, perfecting the shape of the moustache, trying to make it look bushy, and refusing to get distracted by the way the pencil pulled on Dae’s upper lip, forcing his mouth open.

“There. Now let’s hear it.”

“Hello,” Dae said in a quiet, barely-there Spanish accent, “my name is⁠—”

“We’re going to be late!” So now Jordan cared about tardiness.

The theatre was close enough to walk, giving them ample opportunity to wave at giggling, gawking strangers. And when they arrived, the lobby was filled with characters from the movie, their costumes ranging from silly to intricately accurate.

The building had that old-theatre smell: musty with a hint of stale perfume, like the walls had absorbed a century of patrons showing off their wealth. A chandelier hung from the ceiling in the lobby, adorned with electric candles that periodically blinked out.

They climbed the faded carpeted stairs to the balcony, where they sat in creaky, uncomfortable seats. Theo’s favourite part of live theatre was always when the house lights went down, and the crowd knew to shut the hell up. The thing about this night, though, was that the crowd never shut up for long. They weren’t meant to. People began yelling things at the stage, making everyone laugh and causing the actors to mug to the audience.

Dae relaxed more as the show went on and even yelled when Wesley was taken to the Pit of Despair.

After the show, they filed into the lobby where servers in costumes made rounds with overpriced drinks. The actor who played Wesley complimented Theo’s costume and got the crowd to vote on who wore it better. Wesley won, obviously. Being ridiculously sexy in a mask was his job, whereas it was simply a pastime of Theo’s.

He was surprised when the actor asked for his number and was about to give it to him when he noticed Dae surrounded by a group of women.

“Sorry, I have to…” He wandered away from Wesley and inserted himself in the circle.

“Uh oh!” One of the women laughed way too loudly. “He’s come to sword fight! Get in here!” She took his arm and pulled him in for a picture, and Dae’s hand settled on his hip. Which was normal. Of course.

It went on for a while. One woman in particular, who had clearly had too much to drink, kept wrapping her arms around Dae, putting her head on his shoulder and kissing his cheek, leaving her mark in bright red lipstick.