Fmk The Rest Of The Fourth Years

bxstvrd​:

DATE & TIME: Monday morning, week of auditions LOCATION: J²’s room AVAILABILITY: Taken @aldysfool​

Jonah was already thirty minutes late to his first class of the day, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d woken up with a weight on his chest that wouldn’t move, a panic in his heart that left him debilitated, immobile. Mustering the strength to get out of bed seemed impossible, and he’d lay there, silent, pretending to be asleep, as Julian had got ready and left for the day, had tried not to notice the way his roommate had been hovering, as if questioning whether to wake Jonah up so he wouldn’t be late.

He made the right choice and left. Which meant Jonah was alone.

Numbly, through the fog of his mind, he recognized that he should call Harry. If he called Helen, he’d have to explain why he was like this, and he just… he couldn’t do it. But even reaching over to grab his phone seemed impossible, so he just lay there, festering like a wound, curled in on himself, trying to minimize the damage. When he was left alone, like this, painfully aware of his own existence, all he could think of was Orson, which turned into William, which turned into Des – all of the father figures who failed him, or maybe he failed them, and maybe every single one of them was right: there was nothing wrong with the world. There was something wrong with him.

And just like that, tears were welling in his eyes, staining his pillow. He curled in tighter, wrapping his arms around his knees, muffling the quiet hitches of his breath, not hearing the sound of the door of his dorm opening over the weight of his own agony.

contrary to what most people would assume, nate loved mornings. so much so, that he often just stayed awake to watch the sun rise; it’s a beautiful sight that always manages to bring him some comfort. had he always been this prone to insomnia? nah. was it something that had developed over the past couple of months? nope. would he admit it was getting worse every day? of course not. this morning was just like every other morning he’d had the previous week, except he was basically running off of caffeine fumes and a sugar rush, because mondays fucking sucked, but nate was not going to let the gloom of another week take the reigns of his morning. he couldn’t afford it.

so nate decides to spread the love with breakfast food, because hey, it’s his favorite meal of the day and not one student in the history of alderidge can deny the impressive spread the refectory boasts each morning. balancing two containers of waffles, a sack of fruit, and a drink carrier, nate tumbles through the dorm: “good day, my fellow thespians! let us gather and be merry and...talk shit, or whatever!” it doesn’t take him long to realize that no one’s listening, and for a moment, he’s a little bummed that j&j are nowhere to be found. nate checks for julian — nope. so he turns his attention to jonah. nate almost reconsiders checking on him, but he calls out anyway, “jonah, you up? i’ve brought sustenance." nate doesn’t hear a response, so he shrugs and sits the bags down before he drops all of it. nate knows he’s there, but tries to rationalize that maybe he doesn’t want to be bothered. ...but then it starts to bug him, so nate tries again. he needs to hear some kind of response, or else his mind will start to jump to wildly ridiculous conclusions.

“...i didn’t bring any burnt toast this time, so that’s a plus. right?”

harryzhangs​:

harry chuckles in agreement to his comment about the food. she knows nate doesn’t owe her an answer, but she has to admit she’s curious as to how the rest of her peers are doing tonight. over the years she’s discovered that people seem comfortable confiding things in her, and her time at alderidge has been no exception. harry doesn’t mind it, though– on the contrary, it’s really one of the only methods she has of feeling close to people. she nods sympathetically when nate continues; if there’s one thing she understands right now, it’s not liking the presence of those detectives inside the refectory. of course, his phrasing makes harry curious… nate was the one to find orson’s body, but she still wonders if there’s anything else he could be hiding about that whole night, like she is. she wonders about it constantly, truth be told. not just in regards to nate, but to all of them. harry might not know exactly what happened, but she’s damn sure she and jonah aren’t the only ones with secrets.

“i get that,” harry agrees before taking another drag from nate’s joint. with this one, she starts to feel it a bit, a nice calm spreading over her that only weed could ever cause. “it’s hard to move forward with all these reminders of what happened. especially when we don’t know what they’re looking for, or… who they might suspect, you know?” she shivers before passing the joint back to nate.

he misses his therapist. she always had a good way of giving clarity to nate’s thoughts and challenging him to think deeper, as any professional should do. while the fear of what certain truths would come up has kept him away recently, nate thinks back to many of their conversations and tries to remember any piece of actual therapy he got from those sessions. because maybe, he’d stop feeling like he was going crazy. maybe he’d be able to get the image of orson’s dead body out of his head. maybe he’d be able to face whatever the fuck was going on with jason. 

and that’s exactly who he’s thinking about when harry mentions the detectives and potential suspects. nate hopes he isn’t wearing it all on his face and lowers his head as he brings the joint back to his lips. two long puffs and the joint is barely hanging on at this point. he shrugs, “yeah, things like this make it really hard to move on. and that’s all i wanna do at this point. ...for my sake but mostly for jason’s — i mean, everybody’s sake, y’know,” nate panics a little, so he stands up and knocks the ash against the railing. nate slides his suit jacket off and offers it to harry. “i should probably get back inside and keep the party going. i started a petition to play firework over the sound system, so...gotta check on that progress.”

where: courtyard between FAB & alderidge hall; when: tuesday afternoon, before the read-through; who: @joseqhine​.

as usual for someone who has an unhealthy dependence on drugs to get through each day, nate is outside smoking before the cast’s call time  —  just something to take the edge off. he places his copy of macbeth down to stub out the cigarette when he looks up and sees a familiar face. he bursts into laughter when he sees her. josie’s the kind of person that nate didn’t ever get along with; and looking at her, it still blows his mind that she and mads were ever close. he thinks she’ll probably walk by and ignore him, but nate just can’t let this opportunity pass him up. “what’s up, lady ‘duff? memorize that scene yet?"

scenestlr​:

grace scoffs softly at his comment, “i’m not surprised you’d find it so boring. i still don’t know how the hell you got pandarus last semester.” the cast list came as a surprise for her, to see him in  such an important role in trolius and cressida. she didn’t care for that role, nor did she want to take it from him - but that very essence of knowing he didn’t deserve it struck her to her core. the very bitter and evil thought of maybe nate hooked up with orson like chandler did to get that role crosses her mind. grace lets that anger subside, just for a moment, as she hears his next question.

she presses her lips together, she’s used to his typical comments and jabs - just as he was hers, but that felt pointed. the whispers were one thing, but a direct accusation to murdering someone feels different. she holds little respect for how he gets his ways, on and off the stage. it’s a dirty move, something they shouldn’t be joking about. “you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” she forms her words carefully and malignantly. “i don’t have to prove my innocence to you, palmer.”

it’s always nice to know that while most things change, others would remain the exact same. for example, nate has done a lot of soul searching over the course of his twenty-two years — contrary to what he presents to most people, he’s done a lot of growing up; compared to grace, who, unfortunately looked like she was always gonna be hater. yikes. nate rolls his eyes at her comment about pandarus, but is satisfied that she’s still salty about it. point for him.

“well i hate to break it to ya, but you haven’t been proving much of anything to me in these past few years i’ve known you,” he cringes a little at the harshness, so he follows up, “...besides the fact that it’s clear to me and everybody else that you’re secretly in love with me, which honestly, i don’t blame you. but the whole ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ trope is kinda played out, don’t you think?” nate brings the joint back to his lips, and he hides his smirk behind the smoke. messing with grace was his favorite pastime, but there’s something about this night that has nate feeling particularly weird, so he keeps talking for no good reason.

“all i’m saying is, you don’t have to try so hard. especially since orson....y’know. bit the dust.”

where: the refectory, the 4th year table; when: post-announcement, before read-through; who: @chandlerrosen​.

there are some things nate is going to miss about aldy when they’re all gone from this place, and the refectory’s food was definitely one of them. nate sits at the usual table for their class, his food spread out in front of him like a five-course meal, with his personal copy of macbeth sitting in his lap. he’s doodling a picture of a flaming skull over the title character’s first meeting with the witches when he sees chandler across the way. he grins and waves, “yo, lady ‘beth! chandler! you have a second? i’ve got a tiny favor to ask.” he pushes some of his food out of the way, suddenly aware of how much space he’s taking up.