It’s dress rehearsal and Stiles is center stage, singing some ridiculous song about a missing hat. Derek, on the other hand, is getting completely lost in how ridiculously good Stiles’ voice is and the way he moves his body across the stage while he sings.
He’s standing in his usual spot, backstage left, completely mesmerized until he suddenly becomes aware of a voice in his headset. “Derek , your cue! Your cue!”
Shit. Derek was supposed to start closing the curtains 3 lines ago.
He fumbles around, pulling on the chords and forcing the curtains to move quickly and jerkily across the stage. Stiles is still standing center stage, holding out his note for way longer than he’s meant to as he waits for them to close.
“Cut!” the director calls. “Derek? Get out here!”
Derek pushes the edge of the curtain aside and steps out, head lowered as he feels his face heat up.
The director, an older lady with gray hair and a permanent scowl, is glaring at him. “What is the matter with you? It’s tech week and suddenly you’re missing your cues?”
“Sorry,” Derek mumbles. “Won’t happen again.”
The director sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “It better not. Okay, let’s do it again, from the top!” she yells out.
Derek slips backstage again and finds Stiles there, waiting for him. Derek’s insides immediately turn to mush.