May's best friend dies for a mysterious reason. Can she find a way to solve this death? |
When Hunter was healed up enough he decided to ask Shell if she knew when the next play was going to be held. “Ah, I think they’re asking for people to sign up for casting at the drama room,” she answered. “Really?” Hunter asked. Shell nodded a bit like it was obvious. “Okay, do you mind coming with me? I’ve never signed up of anything like this before,” he said. “Um, okay, it’s really easy all you have to do is put your name and home room down and if you have an idea of who you want to be sometimes you put that down too. But seeing as we don’t yet know what the play is you just put your name and home room down,” Shell explained. They walked off to the Drama department together Hunter asked Shell how the whole dramatic arts thing worked. It was cool and Hunter started to really like Shell. It was as if she was another May. Only of course she could never be May. When they started going to the Drama production they started to really get along. “And then I shall dub they thy knight of civil calvary,” Shell proclaimed. “I am honoured,” Hunter said bowing his head. Improve was fun and Hunter really liked it when he ended up improving with Shell. In fact after drama practice they’d stay a bit longer and practise their improve act and perform after rehearsal for the rest of them. Hunter found that what he feared was silly and that theatre was a lot of fun. Shell suggested he audition for the local theatre production. Mind you that didn’t go too well, seeing as Hunter had never done and audition before. It was a good learning experience though so he decided to do it again next year. It was all a lot of fun and Hunter believed that Jane and May were really happy with him. There, however was a piece of him that promised to get back at the vampire world for what they did to his best friends. For now though that would have to wait Hunter was living in the world of imagination for the time being. It was fun too. Only that didn’t get ride of the melancholy feeling he’d get at night when he thought about how his friends would love to see the end production. Only they’d have balcony seats. |