#YES i was projecting. yes these were all real issues with our production i choreographed/assistant directed

[allsassnoclass]

hello, Hazel!

how about "let's go out for a cheap dinner" ft. mashton for the prompts?<3

hi ana! thanks for requesting!

mashton: "Let's go out for a cheap dinner"

Michael covers his face with his hands and groans, as loud as he can. It echoes slightly in the empty theater, or maybe he just thinks it does because his hands are creating an echo chamber, but either way it's equally as satisfying as it isn't.

"Mood," Luke says. Michael turns his head to look at him, sitting in the second row of the audience with his feet propped up on the chair in front of him, Sierra nodding sagely beside him. It looks like an uncomfortable position for someone of his size, but laying on his back on the hard, disgusting wooden stage isn't as comfortable for Michael as it could be, so he's not going to say anything.

"They should've done Beauty and the Beast," Calum repeats for the fiftieth time since they all began working on this production nearly two months ago.

"Or Shrek. Or Spongebob. Or Sound of Music. Or literally any other family-friendly musical besides fucking Mary Poppins," Michael agrees, just like he has every other time.

When he applied for the job to direct Mary Poppins at a community theater this summer, it had seemed like a good idea. Being partially-funded through Community Education, he was told that they would have full access to the theater, scene shop, and costume shop at the high school, as well as some additional rehearsal spaces there. The board of directors seemed really excited to dive into a family show after producing some more mature musicals in the previous years, and he got to hire the production staff, meaning he could ensure that he works with his friends this summer. He knew that Mary Poppins is a difficult show from basically every standpoint: the music is complex, the dance numbers are big, there's an inconvenient amount of settings, and Mary Poppins does magic at about 12 different points in the script, including flying across the stage. Still, Michael had been optimistic.

Michael had been a fucking idiot.

This has been, to put it plainly, the most frustrating directing experience Michael has ever had. The theater was a new build from five years ago, but apparently the blueprints have since been lost and no one at the school knows the measurements of the space. He keeps trying to negotiate with different flight companies so they can rent equipment, hire a trainer, and have Mary actually fly across the stage, but most of them are appalled at the quick turnaround and all of them need some sort of measurement of the space, not to mention that Michael has to wait for permission from Community Education before he can solidify a deal. Every time he thinks they have it, the school finds some sort of issue that takes him three days to smooth over, at which point they find another one, then later another one.

Administration doesn't seem to understand anything about urgency, because the production staff didn't get their contracts until a month after rehearsals began, so now everyone is scrambling to get things done, and they still don't know what the set will look like because they don't know if Mary will be flying or if they have to find some other way to imply that she is.

That doesn't even scratch the surface. The stage has dried gum on it but the custodians won't let them mop, let alone paint the stage so it actually looks nice and fresh instead of ugly and chipped. They don't have keys to the catwalk. They only just got keys to the booth tonight, and Matt and Roy spent all rehearsal up there trying to figure out how the sound and lights are set up, because it doesn't follow logic. The electrics aren't weighted, which could kill someone, but the weight station is a floor above and the door is padlocked. Michael has already requested a key, but he requested a key to the catwalk two months ago and still doesn't have it.

There's no dressing rooms, no backstage space, and no hallway behind the stage to cross from one side to the other unseen. Michael figures all of those are problems for tech week, but tech week is very quickly approaching, which is why Michael is currently laying on the stage having a mental breakdown two hours after rehearsal ended.

His phone buzzes. He checks it, exhaling when he sees who is texting him.

"Can someone let Ashton in?" he requests.

Someone, probably Roy, heaves a sigh and gets up. Michael stares up at the electrics and wonders if he can sue the school if one of the lights falls and lands on him.

"Well, this is pitiful," Ashton says a few moments later. Michael holds up his middle finger. Ashton probably looks lovely, even for this late at night, and looking at him will probably make Michael feel incrementally better, but he's decided to let himself wallow and therefore refuses to so much as glance at him.

"Come on, what was your win of the day?" Ashton asks. He started asking this after the second week, when Michael came home and told him that every day with this production feels like getting one win, then fifteen losses. The win is usually that the actors have learned something new. The losses are typically everything else.

"We got access to the booth," Matt offers. "Nothing in there is set up, but we have access, so Roy and I can actually start our jobs."

Michael gives a thumbs up.

"Hey, that's great! Is there anything else that you need to solve here tonight, or can I take your fearless leader home?"

Michael holds up his middle finger again. There's a beat of silence, then Calum's voice, holding all of the authority he needs as a stage manager.

"There's nothing else we can do tonight. Let's all go home."

Michael listens to everyone gather their things and put the theater back to some semblance of order. Something blocks the lights overhead, and Michael squints until the silhouette solidifies into Ashton, looking down at him. He really looks good, even when Michael is looking at him from the most unfortunate angle. He's wearing a bandana to keep his curls contained, something which he started doing again this summer, and his shirt is sleeveless, giving Michael a fantastic view of his arms. Michael really likes those arms.

Ashton holds out a hand. Michael drags a sigh up from the depths of his soul and takes it.

"What do you want to eat?" Ashton asks as he's hauling him up and Michael is doing his best imitation of a rag doll.

"We have no food at home. I do not want peanut butter and jelly."

"Let's go out for a cheap dinner," Ashton suggests. Michael rolls his eyes and slumps against him.

"I do not want McDonald's for the third time this week, and there's no where else near us open this late."

"I was researching and found a 24/7 diner about half an hour away. That'll give you enough time to vent and relax, and you'll probably get to sleep just as early as you would if we went home and you watched Netflix."

Michael considers, enjoying the feeling of Ashton's arm around him, supporting his weight. Ashton is always a fantastic combination of solid and soft, which makes him the perfect person to hug.

"I have a playlist ready," Ashton says. "No Mary Poppins on it at all."

"Twist my arm, why don't you," Michael concedes. Ashton ushers him off the stage to gather his backpack, script, and numerous writing utensils that have escaped their case. Calum has already stolen his keys to lock up, and by the time he turns out the lights and the group heads to the parking lot, Michael is feeling marginally more like a functional person.

"Come on, in you go," Ashton says after they call goodbyes to the rest of the staff, holding Michael's door open for him. The show must be taking a noticeable toll on him tonight if Ashton is babying him this much, but Michael is pretty lazy and isn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth right now.

Michael doesn't know what he'd do without Ashton, honestly. Between juggling his day job, rehearsals, production meetings, and all of the administrative bullshit that has unexpectedly come with this show, Michael barely finds time to exist, let alone eat and sleep and drink water. Ashton is the one who ensures that those needs are met, picking him up from production meetings once he deems that they've gone on long enough if Michael doesn't call before then, making meals that will be good reheated when he has time and scoping out places for them to get food when everything else is closed. He offers a patient ear when Michael needs to rant and practical solutions when he can, and Michael is man enough to admit that he would have fallen apart by now without the knowledge that there is someone who is in his corner and who will still love him if the production goes to shit.

"Hey," he says once Ashton starts the engine, his phone already hooked up to the car and an acoustic pop punk song beginning to play over the speakers. "I love you."

Ashton smiles at him, reaching out and tucking a lock of Michael's hair back, letting his fingers trail down Michael's cheek after. Michael closes his eyes, savoring the sensation.

"I love you, too," Ashton says warmly. "Now let's get some food in you. You can tell me all about the school's latest bullshit on the way there."

Michael sighs and presses back against his seat, looking out the window at the dark. quiet town around them. He starts talking, and Ashton listens attentively the entire time, even when Michael can tell from his clenched jaw and furrowed brow that he's angry on his behalf. Once Michael has gotten it all out of his system, he lets Ashton distract him with talk about his own day over a plate of pancakes and some bacon.

With Ashton's ankle hooked around his under the table, it's the most relaxed Michael has felt all day.

"Thank you," Michael says before they pay the bill. He means it for more than just the food, Ashton understands. He always does.

"I love you," Ashton says in reply, like it's an explanation.

Michael takes the last bite of his pancakes from the tiny diner that Ashton found to ensure that Michael eats well, and knows with certainty that he can make it through anything with Ashton by his side.