It took six months before HyunSeong even learned her name. Before then, she remained as sort of phantom in his mind; “The Loud One”, “The Drama Kid”, he called her in his head. HyunSeong only caught glimpses of her, watched her from afar for six months.

It took six months before HyunSeong even learned her name. It took six months before HyunSeong fell in love.

-----

A loud crash from down the hallway made HyunSeong jerk his head up, and the accompanying babble of voices and laughter made him narrow his eyes. Glancing around the room, it seemed his classmates were in a similar state. His teacher peered hawkishly over her glasses, her ever-permanent scowl seemingly deeper than usual.

“It’s those horrible drama kids, running down the hallway and making a large ruckus again!” she muttered, standing up and shuffling to the door. “You kids! Clear out of here! This is the traditional music department, not a playground!”

A few echoing bangs sounded down the hallway, and the teacher must have taken that as a sign, for she hurried back to her seat, adjusting her glasses minutely.

“Still not composing?” she barked, and the students jumped before busying themselves. HyunSeong stared down at his paper, tapping his pencil lightly against the desk.

Drama kids?

-----

As HyunSeong exited the classroom, he hefted his bad higher on his shoulder. As he walked, a hand clapped on his shoulder.

“Man, Mrs. Kim is really stiff. If she loosened up maybe we’d have more than six people in our composition class,” a voice sounded from behind HyunSeong.

“DongHyun, don’t you have a class to go to right now?” HyunSeong sighed, not even glancing back at his friend. DongHyun slung an arm over HyunSeong’s shoulder.

“Nope, not today! I’m free for the rest of the day, baby.”

With a slight groan, HyunSeong turned the corner. To his surprise, there was a small crowd gathered, cheering and laughing at something happening in the middle of the hallway. DongHyun seemed intrigued, and grasping HyunSeong’s arm, dragged him over to the gathered people. Pushing HyunSeong through the crowd, he managed to get them a good view. In the center of the crowd were three people dressed in traditional garb, acting out what seemed to be a death scene. The girl swooned in arms of another guy as they shouted comedic dialogue, much to the delight of the audience. HyunSeong even found himself getting involved, laughing along with the audience.

Finally the trio finished the performance and bowed amidst the applause and whistling of the viewers, the girl grinned around, and she caught HyunSeong’s eye and winked at him. HyunSeong lowered his eyes to the ground, a blush blooming over his cheeks.

“We’ll be putting on a play this Friday at 6 P.M.! until then, this has been the Improv Troupe!” one of the guys yelled, and the three disappeared into the crowd. HyunSeong stared after then. Suddenly, he had plans for Friday night.

-----

Even without his knowing, going to plays became a habit. Every weekend, without fail, he would find his feet leading him there. He fancied himself a phantom—coming and sitting in the very back, and leaving as soon as it was done. He watched some of everything: period stories, Shakespeare, modern stories, romance…it didn’t matter.

There came one week that he was unable to go. He had a composition due on Monday, and he needed to work on it as much as possible. HyunSeong found himself seated in an empty classroom, the only sound the ticking of the clock. The time passed slowly, but the paper in front of him remained blank. HyunSeong felt empty. Something should have been inside, something that could be grasped and could inspire him, but there was nothing. Sighing, he laid his head down, trying to rack his brain for something.

The door opened and closed, but HyunSeong still didn’t lift his head. It was probably just DongHyun making sure he was alright.

“You weren’t at the show tonight,” a familiar voice said. It was the voice of a changeling, one that he had heard countless times over the past few weeks; as a countess, as a maid, as a lover…it had been familiar, comforting, and HyunSeong’s head shot up. The drama girl laughed slightly.

“I…I have work to do,” HyunSeong whispered, and even as he spoke, he could feel something, something coming.

“Oh, do you? Is it something interesting?”

As she talked and HyunSeong frantically composed, he found something new inside of him, brilliant and bare as a bulb. He was hesitant to touch it, hesitant to put a name on it, but it was there, and it was warm.

“What are you going to call this piece?” she asked, fiddling with HyunSeong’s pencil.

“My Inspiration.”