Chapter 2: The Prince of Monsoon High school

The stage play was proceeding as usual, and the performance of the two brothers was much better than during rehearsals.

My role was that of the knight guarding the princess by her side. As I looked at Merak lying with closed eyes on the crystal bed behind me, I couldn't help feeling a bit worried.

After delivering my lines, just two or three, I exited the stage.

Backstage, the director was closely watching the final fight scene about to begin—due to the influence of the Desire Chamber, the two brothers saw the princess's face and lost their senses, then started fighting each other. This scene had been rehearsed many times and should have had no problems.

But when the brothers saw the princess's face, I noticed that things were starting to get out of control. The fight was not as graceful as in rehearsals; it looked more like they were genuinely fighting with real swords, and the clashing sounds of the prop swords were very loud.

According to the script, the elves were supposed to intervene, making them remember the memories of their brotherhood, but they were still fighting, and no one seemed to be considering self-sacrifice. It was evident that they were both overwhelmed, most likely because the princess was Merak .

Assistant directors, sound technicians, and extras all came over to ask the director what to do.

"I don't know," was all the director could reply.

To be honest, I had never seen our usually optimistic director look so anxious. Not only her, but also the normally silly crew members, all wore expressions of despair, biting their lips and staring at the stage's turmoil.

I couldn't understand why they couldn't be satisfied. For ordinary people like us, achieving this level in a stage play was already remarkable. Wasn't following the original script always better than what was happening now?

If those idiotic brothers messed up like this, wouldn't they be ostracized when they came back to class?

What could I do? I was just an ordinary person with good grades aiming for the Comet.

But seeing those children who were usually cheerful and now disheartened, I instinctively took action. Was it because of my innate kindness from childhood?

...

"Lighting crew, pay attention to me in a moment. Narrator, be ready to cooperate with me."

With determination, I stepped onto the stage, and in that moment, I also figured out what I wanted to perform.

Why did I volunteer to participate? In that moment of stepping onto the stage, I finally realized the simple truth: people's thoughts and dreams, no matter their talents, are equally dazzling, and I genuinely hoped that those who put in effort could be rewarded.

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"So, you two brothers, stop calling me 'Prince' on stage!!"