Page 55 of Saving the Rockstar

Beside him, Mason rolled his eyes, his expression one of long-suffering patience.

"He means he threw together a bunch of cliches and cheesy one-liners and called it a day," he said dryly, his voice flat and unamused.

Dylan gasped, his hand flying to his chest in a gesture of mock outrage.

"How dare you, Mason! This is our magnum opus, our gift to the world of theater and romance alike!"

He turned to me, his expression suddenly serious and intense.

"Asher, I need you to trust me on this. This play is going to change your life. It's going to show you and Jared the true meaning of love, the power of forgiveness and understanding in the face of adversity."

I glanced over at Jared, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of amusement and trepidation.

The play, as it turned out, was every bit as ridiculous and over-the-top as I had feared. Dylan, dressed in a garish sequined jacket and a pair of leather pants that left little to the imagination, strutted across the makeshift stage like a peacockon parade, his voice booming out in a poor imitation of a British accent.

"Oh, my darling bodyguard," he cried, his hand pressed dramatically to his forehead, "how I yearn for your strong, manly arms around me, your lips upon mine in a passionate embrace!"

Beside him, Mason stood stiffly, his expression pained as he recited his lines in a monotone drone.

"But sir," he said, his voice flat and emotionless, "we cannot be together. I am but a lowly servant, unworthy of your affections."

Dylan let out a wail of anguish, his body contorting in a series of exaggerated poses that looked more like a seizure than a display of emotional turmoil.

"But I love you!" he cried, his voice rising to a fever pitch. "I love you with the fire of a thousand suns, with the depth of the ocean and the height of the mountains!"

He threw himself to his knees, his arms outstretched in a gesture of supplication.

"Please, my darling, do not let societal expectations and the opinions of others come between us. Our love is a force of nature, a hurricane of passion that cannot be contained."

Mason, for his part, looked like he wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor and disappear forever.

"I do not know what to say," he mumbled, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. "I am conflicted, torn between my duty and my desire."

Dylan leaped to his feet, his face contorted in a mask of determination.

"Then let me convince you!" he cried, his voice ringing out like a bell. "Let me show you the depth of my love, the strength of my commitment."

And with that, he launched into a series of increasingly ridiculous gestures and proclamations, his arms windmilling and his voice rising and falling in a dizzying cacophony of sound and fury.

He dropped to one knee, his hand clutching at his chest as he gazed up at Mason with a look of pure, unadulterated adoration.

"My love for you is like a river," he declared, his voice trembling with emotion. "It flows endlessly, carving a path through the wilderness of my soul, nourishing the barren landscape of my heart with its life-giving waters."

Mason, who looked like he was about two seconds away from bursting into laughter or tears, simply stared at him, his mouth hanging open in a mixture of horror and disbelief.

"That doesn't even make sense," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of Dylan's impassioned monologue.

By this point, Jared and I were both shaking with barely suppressed laughter, our eyes watering and our cheeks aching from the effort of keeping a straight face.

But Dylan, lost in the throes of his own dramatic performance, seemed oblivious to our amusement, his voice rising to a fever pitch as he neared the climax of his speech.

"And so, my love," he declared, his arms spread wide in a gesture of triumph, "I ask you now, in front of all these witnesses, to cast aside your doubts and your fears, to take myhand and join me on this journey of love and passion, to be mine forever and always."

He dropped to his knees once more, his eyes wide and pleading as he gazed up at Mason with a look of desperate hope.

For a long, awkward moment, Mason simply stared at him, his expression unreadable. And then, with a sigh of resignation, he reached out and took Dylan's hand, his voice flat and unenthused as he spoke his final line.

"I suppose I have no choice," he said, his tone devoid of any real emotion. "I accept your love, and promise to be yours until the end of time, or until one of us gets bored and moves on to someone else, whichever comes first."

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