Time passed quickly after those long, tedious days of delicate balance, and Aaron learned a lot about his boys.
Roman was flirtatious but chivalrous. Despite Aaron's initial thoughts, it was Roman who was the prince of the club. He had the confident air, that swagger which told everybody he knew exactly what he was. And when the girls came to swoon over his golden hair and startling blue eyes, he was never anything less than polite.
That was the only thing he seemed to share with Kris, that extreme politeness. Kris was quiet and intelligent. His girls were satisfied watching him complete his advanced calculus homework in seconds flat, cooing every time he adjusted the fake glasses he wore- his contacts fixed his vision, but he thought the glasses made him look clever. With Roman, it was all about the girls but for Kris it was all about the boys in the club, his pet projects.
Marcus was the same way. Though he sometimes acted like an overprotective father, it was due to him that Aaron's bullies mostly faded away. From what he saw, Aaron knew Marcus had done the same thing for Roman and the twins, and mildly resented never being able to do it for Kris.
The only real mystery left to Aaron was the twins, Benji in particular. He had sealed himself off, and only allowed Harry past those walls. And despite the heart-fluttering moments Aaron shared with Harry, the twin followed his brother's example, and Aaron knew next to nothing about them. It bothered him more than he was willing to admit, but it began to change one morning- the moment he was kidnapped, and not for the first time.
Aaron chirped his goodbye to Aric and stepped off the bus, humming to the Dropkick Murphy song that blared through the headphones Marc had given him in return to introducing him to Panic at the Disco. He knew the school grounds well enough to walk with his eyes half closed. With the cool breeze ruffling his hair, which was always carefully styled after Harry sent him home with a year's worth of ridiculously expensive gel, Aaron was honestly enjoying the moment.
That is, until somebody clamped their hands over his eyes and mouth. Aaron went rigid, fingers curling into claws as he reached up to pry the hands away. "Ouch," his assailant said reproachfully, releasing the hand that covered Aaron's mouth to shake the sting away.
"Stark?" Aaron questioned, eyelashes brushing the boy's palm as he blinked his confusion. Unlike the people who guessed at which twin they were talking to, Aaron used their last name until he was certain whether he was talking to Benji or Harry.
The twin made an irritated noise and dropped his other hand. "You take all the fun out of this," he informed Aaron. He put an arm around Aaron's shoulder, pulling him along as he began to walk.
"You have the weirdest sense of fun," Aaron retorted. When the bell rang, Aaron tried to detach himself from the twin, but it was a futile struggle, "What are you doing? I have to get to class!"
The twins gave him a wicked grin, a sure sign of trouble- and a sure sign the twin Aaron was with was Benji, because Harry was always sweet and almost innocent when he was alone with Aaron. "We're just making a little pit stop, puppy. You'll get to your first class eventually."
Aaron was used to the nickname Benji had refused to drop, and he'd seen that devilish glint in two matching sets of deep green eyes often enough to know he didn't stand a chance of getting away. "Fine, but if the dean asks, I'm telling him you kidnapped me."
"He'll probably believe you," Benji said with a shameless grin, "After all, it wouldn't be the first time."
Aaron did an excellent impression of a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing without a sound. Finally he just shook his head and mumbled, "I really don't want to know, do I?"
"Definitely not!" Benji laughed, but it wasn't the same as his brother's; Benji's laugh was soft, guarded, as if he kept himself strictly under control.
Their conversation gave way to a peaceful silence broken only by the barely audible moan of the wind. Even though Aaron hadn't been at the school long, he knew it well enough to guess where they were going. Soon the high, domed roof of the school's theatre loomed before them, proving Aaron right.
"What are we doing here? The senior assembly isn't until later today," Aaron was, of course, referring to the yearly assembly where the dean and other officials gave long-winded speeches about graduation ceremonies, scholarships, and other horribly dull stuff that came with it. Aaron had planned on using the time to catch up on the sleep he missed while baby-sitting for a neighbor; Kris would fill him in, if Aaron gave him the pathetic puppy eyes that were growing infamous for their power of persuasion.
"Exactly," Benji replied, like that was an actual answer.
Aaron's exasperated eye roll froze when he saw Benji kneel down in front of the side door to the theatre and pull out a small, slim black case. He had gone to a public school on the poorer side of town, so he knew exactly what it was. Still, the incredulous question flowed from his mouth: “What on earth are you doing?"
Benji didn't look up as he slotted his tools into the hole where a key should go. Eyes closed, he fiddled with his tools until he heard the soft click. A victorious smile plastered across his face, he opened the door and gestured for Aaron to go first. The other boy's disbelief made him laugh- a real, unguarded, honest laugh. "I may be a rich kid, but if I couldn't break into a school theatre, what kind of prankster would I be?"
Aaron opened his mouth, closing it just as quickly when he realized, as was becoming a pattern with Benji, that he really didn't want to know. Letting their conversation lapse into silence once more, he walked into the theatre.
Like the rest of the school, it was meant to seem subtly expensive- Aaron wasn't fooled. He knew the plush velvet seating and matching curtains that brushed the dark wood stage had to cost thousands. He'd taken a drama productions class freshman year, and considering how much his public school had spent on equipment, Aaron could have bought a mansion with what Sherwood must have spent on lighting and sound equipment. And if they spent as much on set and costume as they obviously had on the rest of the theatre, their plays must have been spectacular.
"Quit daydreaming!" Benji snapped.
Aaron shook himself and, realizing he stood in the doorway, moved down the aisle a ways. Benji glanced around before slipping into the theatre. When the door shut behind him, the theatre went pitch black. Aaron's eyes didn't have any time to adjust before Benji flicked on a flashlight, but Aaron still found himself blinking from the unexpected light.
"Take these and go up onstage."
Aaron took the flashlight and walkie-talkie that, surprisingly, looked like one he'd had when he was little. Keeping to his policy of staying silent, nerves jangling inside of him, he flicked on the flashlight. Stepping as soundlessly as possible, Aaron kept his fingers tightly wrapped around the flashlight so his sweating palms wouldn't make it slip out of his hands. Breathing carefully, so he could hear past his thrashing heart, Aaron jogged up the stairs that led onto the stage. "This is ridiculous," he muttered to himself, voice high and thin, "I swear, if we get caught, I'm going to-"
"You there, puppy?" Benji's voice came through the walkie talkie crystal clear, making Aaron jump.
"It's not like I have any other choice," he replied, finger on the button that allowed Benji to hear his snarky reply.
There was a moment of radio silence as Benji, who was breaking into the sound room at the side of the stage, smothered his laughter. The door opened after a second's fiddling, and Benji slipped inside. "Good. Go to the podium and find the microphone.”
"Got it," Aaron replied a few seconds later.
Benji paused in his frantic search through the storage closet long enough to say, "Bring it down to me. Straight off the stage, second door."
Aaron muttered rebelliously as he crossed the stage and searched for Benji. He found the boy bent over, a can of black spray paint in his hand as he gave a careful coating to a bright orange microphone. "What's that?" Aaron asked loudly.
Benji jerked, swearing when the action made him spray paint on his hand. He wanted to scowl at Aaron, and tried his best, but only ended up grinning. "You'll see at the assembly later," he said, excitement thrilling through him.
Aaron eyed the red-haired boy with distrust, but handed him the poached microphone.
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