Valentine

 “Valentine, oh my Valentine! Answer me my sweet Valentine!”

“CUT! You call that acting Ricky? Why don't you try doing it with some real passion. Why don't...why don't you actually try this time yeah? We're gonna go again, for a millionth time. Do it RIGHT THIS TIME!”

“Mr. Fance, not to be rude but this is just a highschool play, it's not anything fancy,” said Anny.

“Oh right, so we can just half-ass the whole thing, that makes sense. Do it again, and do it right. None of you are going home until we get this right people!”

It was cold out now, night had fallen. Fance was leaving the building last. All the students had gone home after her and flown into a rage about Ricky not being passionate enough for the part. Clarence was in love with Valentine...they were mad lovers, yet Ricky acted like Valentine was just a friend, like one of his bros almost. Like Valentine didn't matter that much. Like she was just a side chick or something. No. No she wasn't that. She was SO much more. Fance knew it. He had created her. He had created Clarence too. He had chosen Ricky to play Clarence, much to his regret now.

But oh well right? You live and learn. Fance, you live and learn. What? I know. It's ok we'll get this. They have to get this.

You alright buddy?

Oh look a deer. Why is there a deer in the middle of a city street.

I can't drive right now I'm too tired. I'm going to crash and kill my self, or kill someone else. Is anyone else even alive right now? You mean awake? Yeah awake that's what I meant. It's late at night. The students are home. I'm going home. Fance you're going home. GO HOME FANCE.

 Valentine's waiting for you. She's not real? Is she? She isn't? She is. She must be. I made her. Please. Tell me she's real? I have NO ONE ELSE! You can't take her.

Where am I? Oh I'm home.

Fance shot himself in the head that night, a lipstick kiss of his cheek…

Who was Valentine to take his life? She was created by him? Why would she do that? HOW could she do that? She was directing the play now. She was in charge. Her next victim would be Clarence. Oh she loves Clarence. Right? I do love him she says. I love him? Do I? Do I really love him? He lacks the passion I seek. But I love him. No. Yes. No. I love him. Oh I love him so!

Ricky got to the theater the next day early to try and practice his lines. Truth be told he was a common friend with stage fright. Very familiar. Very common. Very much full of stage fright. He didn't much like Fance and wasn't even sure why the crazy man had chosen him for the part. Maybe because he was a good looking jock. Something like that maybe. Maybe. Yeah maybe.

Here he is. My Ricky Clarence. For me Valentine. He is mine now. Here I am Valentine. I am here for you my love. Yes and I am here for you too my love! Take me in your arms now and kiss me.

“Valentine!”

“Clarence?”

“What? Who said that?”

“'Tis me my love, your Valentine!”

“But...you're not real!”

Not real but real enough for death to overtake both. Why Ricky hung himself from the theater rafters no one knew. But Valentine knew. She drove all her men mad...drove them all...to death.