Community.

Motherfucking.

Service.

I would be lying if I said pulling on my janitorial suit didn't make me grin, reflecting back on just how differently my future could have been looking. Eight-hundred and fifty-two hours total to clock in, and with most spent cleaning up the local town hall I couldn't complain. Though Mom was worried about how I was going to manage my classes and service hours, the past two weeks hadn't been too bad. April offered to drill me on my classes, making sure I kept up before I started my shifts at the hall or down at the local homeless shelter.

My officer, Han, was a pretty solid guy. He made me work most of the weekend, but scheduled no more than two hours on school days. With twenty-six hours down, at the rate I was going it would take me the better part of the semester to finish my time, but I was in no hurry.

I fucked up, and now I was paying the price.

I hoped I would learn from this.

That I would start thinking for myself, and stop following Clark blindly.

Han, though more kickback than my last probation officer, was a hard-ass for punctuality. Every minute was clocked in to the millisecond and I wasn't allowed a break until he was sure I'd made some headway in my assigned work. Saturday afternoon found me back in the town hall, mopping down the floors after the Neighborhood Watch meeting and the ceiling of the main theatre hall. With the drama nerds booking the hall every other night, the place was always in disarray and I swore glitter always managed to cake itself onto the ceiling fans.

I was scrubbing one of them down when Han entered. If I had to guess I'd punch Han's age at around mid-forties. Though the lines around his eyes were minimal, his hair was a little on the grey side, and his beard was well-groomed though a little too long. I was yet to see his hair styled any other way than a low bun, nor him dressed in anything other than a yellow button-down and burnt Sienna slacks.

"Clear out, Minders," he said, waving at me from the end of the ladder I had dangerously perched close to the end of the stage.

Behind him stood a girl with bright, bottle dyed, red hair. Her curls were wild and framing her face as she hunched over her phone, typing furiously. Every now and again she let out a blurted sound of annoyance.

"Everything okay? My breaks not for another half hour?" I said, after all, it was only one in the afternoon.

"Ms Danvers needs the stage. Scrape down the gum from under the seats for now. I know you've been avoiding the job all week," Han's replied, grabbing the bottom of the ladder and holding it steady. Internalizing my groan, I dropped down and yanked free the scraper from my tool belt, sliding under a row of chairs near the middle.

Danvers was quick to stride onto the stage, barely sparing Han and I a passing glance, huffing at the display of props before snapping her fingers.

Seemingly out of nowhere another teen appeared. The guy was tall, having to duck under a low hanging tree center stage to meet her, and dressed far too light for the chaotic weather outside.

"Everything's wrong! I swear God is trying to sabotage me!" she complained, voice echoing through the empty room. Trying not to eavesdrop I slipped on Thomas' EarPods I managed to smuggle in, keeping my music low enough in case Han decided to call for me again.

"Stop being so dramatic, Bella. The set looks great. You're the only one who doesn't see it."

There was a beat of silence before Bella responded, slightly hysterical.

"Do you want me to fail Kyle? If you do, keep lying to my face. This entire play is a disaster. Nine weeks from opening night and bloody Greg cancels on me, as if I can pull another lead out of thin air! I burned so many bridges choosing him over Josh Sands, I can't go crawling back!" she said, throwing something to the stage floor.

The sound boomed loud enough that I paused my music, shoving the scraper into my pocket.

"What if you change the–"

"I'm not changing the script, Kyle. That is one thing I won't budge on," Bella cut in, tough.

I shifted onto my knees to get a clear view of the pair, remaining hidden from their view with the stage lighting set so low.

"Spence is going to be pissed when he finds out you know,"

"Whatever. This is payback for last Halloween. My cousin can apologize all he wants but you and I both know karma hasn't been collected yet."

"You're evil."

Bella let out a sigh, scratching the side of her head as she glanced down at the scattered paper at her feet. "Evil and totally screwed. What am I going to do? Dress rehearsals start soon and I'm missing a leading man."

It was that moment that my scraper decided to come loose from my pocket, slamming against the metal edge of the chair on its way down.

Both pairs of eyes snapped my way as I sheepishly got to my feet, waving the tool of evil.

"Sorry," I called down to them.

"You're still here?" Bella remarked, boredom passing across her features.

If she didn't come across so high maintenance she would definitely be a girl worth taking a second look at, face delicate but mouth a little on the sinful side. She had curves, not the obnoxious kind, but the superiority reflected back in her eyes killed any lustful drive I could've had for her.

"Part of the requirements." I shrugged back, ready to get back to work.

"You an actor?" Kyle spoke up suddenly.

Both Bella and I shot him stupefied looks.

"Kyle, don't be a moron. The guy's obviously a janitor," she scoffed, turning to her friend in disbelief.

Kyle flushed, voice lowered as he responded, but not enough since the room's acoustics picked up every word he said.

"What? The guy's hot, and if he can act then your problem is solved."

"Uh, I'm right here," I said, mildly uncomfortable at the way Bella suddenly spun my way and oogled.

Quickly she marched towards the wings, flicking a switch and flooding the room with lights so bright I threw an arm over my eyes, swearing under my breath.

"Huh," she said, quiet as she walked back to Kyle's side. "You sure know how to pick a face, Ky. I swear it's your superpower."

"What can I say, beauty calls my attention," he remarked and I blanched, very much aware they were still talking about me.

"Well?" Bella asked, turning fully my way and cutting off any hard remark I was about to make.

"Well, what?"

"Do you?" At my blank look, Bella threw her eyes back in a hard roll, adding, "Act? Or is scrubbing the floor your only character trait?"

"Wow. No, I'm not an actor. Just trying to complete my hours. Not sure I'm even allowed to talk on the job, Han might not count the time as work-related."

Bella pulled out her phone again and I blinked hard as a sudden flash hit my eyes. Typing away she spared me another glance before hopping off the stage and walking towards my row, Kyle following close behind.

"What size shirt do you wear?"

"Medi- Hey, wait, no. Whatever you're planning it's a big nope from me," I scoffed, crossing my arms.

Bella stopped in front of me, brow cocked as her purple-tipped fingers paused over her brightly lit screen. On it displayed a conversation between her and someone named 'Bae-a-saurous' who was steadily spamming Bella with messages becoming progressively shorter and more capitalized.

"I make Kyle carry measuring tape at all times," Bella said, and backing her point Kyle procured a bundle of tape from his pocket with a sly smile. "He may seem scrawny but the guy has a black belt, so don't be testy when I ask you the nice way what. is. your. size. shirt?"

"Medium," I caved, tracking the way Bella's face lit up and she speedily typed something before returning her attention my way.

"How quickly can you memorize a script?"

"I'm not an actor..."

"Not what I asked?"

"Doesn't matter what you asked me when my answer is no."

"You're the guy who broke into his teacher's house, right?" she asked, throwing a complete curveball.

I stuttered, unable to respond, as she continued. "That's why you're here right, community service work, even though you lied to the lady up front that it was volunteering? Listen, I know people. I may not look like I do, but it's true. Right, Kyle?"

"Bella knows people," he parroted back with a terse nod.

"See? Anyway, I'm sure I could talk someone into transferring the hours you do at the play into time served. Win-win right? I get a new, hunky, lead and you get to shave time off your sentence. What do you say?"

I gaped at her, unbelieving.

"You're that desperate?"

"I am."

"I'm... hunky?"

"Very," both Bella and Kyle replied.

I flushed a little, not sure I'd ever been described that way.

Girls at school used to say I was hot, though I was sure a lot of them only hit on me as a way to get closer to Thomas. Clark had drunkenly admitted that the color of my eyes was boner-inducing, "but not in a queer way, so don't get weird about it". I thought they were boring, a shade of green, paler than Thomas' and more golden than April's.

"What's the play?" I asked, still cautious of the deal.

It seemed too good to be true.

Bella perked up, digging into her side bag to pull out a worn script. Most of the pages were frayed with light coffee stains running along the margin.

In bold the cover read SNOWED WHITE.

"Snow White?"

"Snowed White," Bella corrected with a scoff, clutching the pages to her chest. "'A modern take on a classic tale. Two star-crossed lovers meeting on a painful journey that only true love can overcome'."

"Basically, Snow White meets Romeo and Juliet... without the double suicide and a lot of PG-13 make-out sessions since Bella's a bit of a slut for smut," Kyle added, earning a flustered shove from Bella.

"Shut up," she hissed, refusing to meet my eyes. "The first half is true, though the story has had some... rewrites since Mrs. Lang last reviewed it. Had to make it more 'family appropriate'. Barely got this version past the board."

Kyle muttered something on his breath along the lines of "Not like you let them really know about the true casting couple" but I wasn't entirely sure I heard him, too thrown by Bella's next line of questioning.

"So what do you say, help a friend out? Mutual back-scratching and all that?"

I snorted, not sure I would ever call Bella a friend.

"If you get Han to sign off on this then, sure, I'll be in your little play."

I had only covered a day's worth of hours so far, maybe cutting them down faster won't be such a good thing.

So much for paying the price for my own actions, my brain supplied.

Ignoring my own thoughts I took the script from Bella's hands, flicking through it.

"What's my part?"

"Prince Charming."

I skimmed through the pages, frowning when the name appeared but in two different forms towards the end of the play. The first Prince Charming and the other Prince Charmings.

"I think there are more typos than just the front page," I told her pointing to the mistake.

Bella sent a wry grin to Kyle, who stiffened a chuckle, taking the script from my grip. My stomach coiled with a seed of dread at that.

"Don't worry about that. Focus on the lines that say Prince Charming and you'll be fine."

"You don't wanna test that I'm not a horrendous actor first?" I asked, brow raised.

Bella clapped me on the shoulder, squeezing. "Listen, if you look this good in a frilly shirt and black tights, I don't care if you can barely speak a word of English."

On that inspiring note, Bella turned on her heel, marching back out the hall with Kyle close behind her.

"She'll be in touch soon!" he called, halfway out the back door before I remembered,

"She doesn't have my number,"

"Don't worry," he yelled, adding just before the doors slammed shut with finality.

"She'll find you."