Recruitment

The school bell rings, and the students walk to their seats or run to their classrooms. The teachers enter their classrooms, and the Class President asks them to stand up to make the usual bow of greeting. Shortly after, everyone sits down as per the norm. The students are still in full conversation while the teacher of the current period takes the role. So far, it has been a normal day at the end of April, even when the cherry trees are slightly in bloom... before my Fall.

Some yell from outside attract the attention of all the students; driven by curiosity, and they get up from their seats to stalk through the window; a person with a hood and a balaclava can be seen running like a cartoon ninja through the front gardens to the entrance while the prefect tries to stop the intruder who quickly changes shoes, doing a backflip worthy of a gymnast to immediately go up the stairs and running towards the second floor from side to side on the steps, avoiding the students who were coming down for Sport class.The screeching continues as school shoes slip on the freshly polished floor can be heard, and the door to a first-year classroom slams against the frame. All the classmates are left speechless by such a representation worthy of dramatic films; even the teacher is astonished. The hooded student picks up a small bottle that appears tied to a bracelet, shakes its shiny contents, and looks at the bottom. The result does not seem inspiring, easily deduced by the depth of his sigh, but the rest of the class does not know whether to cry from laughter or laugh from discomfort when the mysterious character crosses the entire room to his seat in the second row. , in the middle, while doing the Carlton dance in front of everyone and causing the teacher to no longer be able to continue with his classes.

"Miss Bella Ito, to the Principal's office right now," resounds the voice of the teacher who, angry, shouts to be heard.

The situation only seemed to worsen to the girl who had just sat in the seat while she uncovered her face and deactivated the camera on her cell phone had already been sentenced. That person... is me: Bella Ito, President of the Theater Club.

"HAHAHAHAHA! Forget it; teach. You know that Ito-san has the support of the Principal," if they wanted to calm the teacher down, it didn't work! Please shut up!
“It's not Ito-san, it's Chuuni-Pres.” Please don't give me that weird nickname!

"How many times has he already done it? Since the middle of the month, right?" the comments begin to emerge, and I feel how they are piling up on my shoulders with this false hope of life.I still remember well the day my world fell upside down, with me activating the lever to fall to the bottom of the abyss. Although, I fit that hole.

Everyone was leaving the auditorium for the Inauguration ceremony. For many, that was a special day, just as it was for me a year ago: new school life, leaving primary education to begin our path to adulthood... and all those ridiculous things that I believed at some point on the part of the School Principal and the President of the Student Council of that year, so much so that I wanted to focus from very early on what I wanted to do: dedicate myself to theater acting.I have dreamed of that since I was little: with the spotlight on me and the sweat sliding on the makeup, wearing ostentatious clothes while I recite dialogues about impossible loves and unsheath the prop weapons, singing on the edge of the stage… BUT NO!

"You're small. They're unlikely to see you on stage," a senpai told me when I showed up for the auditions.

"What do you think this is? Takarazuka?  This is just a school club; don't take it so seriously," the Vice President scolded me in December for presenting a project for the School Festival.

"Why don't you look for roles more in line with your physique? Being childish in appearance can have its advantages," my superior, who was in charge of the wardrobe, advised me."I'm sorry, but after this year, the club will close," the President confessed. "We survived these last two years with those who stayed. The problem is that you will be alone next year. I'm sorry." Her parting words gave me no comfort or encouragement: "You should look for another club for next year."

And that's why I put myself together all this time. No Christmas. Nor New Year's Eve. Neither Valentine. The only matter is this new school year. Since this April would be the beginning of my career as President of the Theater Club! (Applause for me for me).I make a fifteenth count: fliers, ready. Registration forms, done. Blue ink pens so the Student Council doesn't say that I falsified the forms... as has already happened... once, checked.

I wear my homemade suit, in honor of Elphaba Thropp from "Wicked," with great pride as I carefully place everything around the small booth I managed to snag for recruiting day. My Broadway adaptation scene decoration with gears might not be neat, but I wanted to do it. I want to communicate that we can play well with the right hands and effort. But at the end of the day:

"No way. This is real?" while they laughed in my face."What kind of club is it? Dark magic?" What?

"Do you think it's from the school choir?" asked someone behind me. 

"Nah. Maybe they didn't let her in, so she tries to open her new club, for sure," another random answered.

"What is this? Theater club? What an excuse to cosplay?" She made fun of my pamphlet and threw it in the garbage can.

It's not cosplay; it's theatrical costume. IT'S THEATER!

Finally, the others avoided my booth, and I just wanted to cry.  The theater club will be closed, and there is nothing else I can do now if I cannot fill out the minimum membership before the end of the month.

That's when I saw a pair of shiny shoes, slightly hidden by pants that had been bought slightly larger so that they would last the boy all year. She leaned over and grabbed one of my pamphlets off the floor as I heard a rather low-pitched jingle.

"Hey, your costume is very well made. Did you do it?" I could hear a male voice that sounded as carefree as it was comforting because of how relaxed it was.

I found one of the newcomers kneeling on his haunches as he handed me the flier he had picked up. I nodded in affirmation in front of the person who had found me in a very shameful moment.

"It says something about 'play' and 'role.' "Is it a roleplay club?" he asked with singular curiosity.

Although my first thought was, "Is he an idiot? What is it that the school where you come from didn't teach you how to read? It says big Theater Club."

"Oh yeah. Sure," I responded casually. Ultimately, the theater is putting on a 'play' and having 'roles' to perform; it's not a lie.

"Oh really!?" He asked me to confirm with a face that seemed to glow with the force of 10 suns. He would have tanned me to gyaru level just from his smile.

"Uh… yes," I confirmed.

"Fantastic! Hey, is there room for more? I'm sure my friends are going to want to come in," this demon disguised as a saint who radiated light like a savior messiah asked me.

"Of course! Invite them!" I encouraged him with urgency and my obvious need to fill the necessary spaces in the club. Although I must accept that perhaps she did seem a little crazy with the witch costume and breathing so hard.

"Sure, give me a moment," he said before dialing a number from his contact list. "Shiro, are you with Saburo? Oh? Yumeko, too? Awesome! Come to the booth where the strange scenery is." Wow, that was rude.

"Yes, the same. They're going to love it. Have you already joined the Soccer Club?" Oh no. One less.

"Forget it! Cancel your form and come here. Stop Saburo if he wants to join the chess team. What do you know about Yumeko? Oh, is she with you? Bring her, too. Yes, I'll wait for you here."

When the others arrived, a couple of incredibly similar boys and a girl, the guy stole my chance to give my presentation speech.

"Guys, look! We will be able to play roleplay in school!" his words lit up his teammates' faces.

"I'm going to bring my dice sets," said one of the boys who had just arrived, and I didn't understand why he needed dice for theater."Do you think they'll let me bring the bag of miniatures? I don't want them to confiscate it," the other boy asked in a deeper voice, confusing me even more.

"Well, if they let her dress up, I don't see why not. I mean, this is roleplaying on another level." The word roleplay came out of the lips of my savior above, unusually for me.

"Then I will bring the maps from the last game." What is she saying? Maps?
Finally, the boy who brought his friends asked me, "This little senpai is the new Dungeon Master."

I could only remain silent briefly before I internally broke into a thousand pieces and realized that the only ones interested in joining the Theater Club were role-boarding game players.