Enter the male lead.

this handsomely witty fellow

whose convinced his supporting lead that all the doubts subsiding within her were nothing less than irrational

Welcome the girl, please

this insecure mess of a female who he swears makes his insides turn out

and whose wildly green eyes melt him to the core

Cue the climax.

What is this?

Can I claim it to be chance?

She shoud not be so foggy in her expectations.

for when she is around others, vain is her middle name.

Fate has sent two pretty arrows clean through their heart.

the scent of what might be happening arrives.

irreversible hope.

Here comes the ending.

As the pair stare deeply into each other, passion erupts

and out flows a mountain of regret, selfishness, and change.

Soon enough, the actors realize that only two are fit for this script.

So just as quickly as the gaze was locked, it ends.

and once more,

the quickness of their fleeting lust immerses back, firmly into the lock of chance.

For in this play, she's the antagonist in this moral.

and nothing else much can be written.

They abruptly part ways and place both feet back.

So this is the ending,

the two sail on,

ordinary lovers who unwittingly stepped into this peculair studio,

who, unfortunately might I add,

only writes tradgedies.