88 Festival [1]

Aoife closed the door to her room. Her room was no different than usual. It was clean, with little to no decorations. It was just bland. 

"Huu." 

Taking a deep breath, she headed for her desk. 

If there was one place that wasn't clean and organized it'd be her desk. With all sorts of colored pens, pencils, and writing instruments, her desk was anything but clean. 

Tossing her script onto the desk, she sat down and opened the pages. 

For the past week, it had been her routine to spend at least a few hours trying to analyze the script. 

Today was supposed to be no different, but...

"....How do I do this?" 

His image continued to appear in her mind, sapping away all motivation from her. 

The way he acted... From his facial expressions to demenour. It was overwhelming. To the point where she couldn't even find a single flaw. 

And the fact that she was supposed to act with 'that' only put more pressure on her.