𝖉𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊, 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘 — Nate’s Audition
𝖉𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊, 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘 — nate’s audition for macbeth.
alriiiiiiiight, so! a few ooc notes: nate loves macbeth, but i genuinely don’t think he ever really considered he was the protagonist/hero type, so that’s why he chooses to steer away from those roles. should he have given it an honest shot? i’m not sure ─ i don’t think he’ll know what to do with himself if he even got the title role, macduff, or even malcolm. frankly, i just don’t think he’d be inspired enough by them to put his all into it. anyway. enjoy! // triggers: mentions of drug use. word count: 1400+? google doc for better viewing!
so, here’s the thing: nate didn’t know what the fuck was happening anymore.
ever since heidi made the announcement of their spring play, he had been feeling one step behind everybody else. while most of his classmates jumped on rehearsal spaces, monologue runs, and every other kind of audition prep and/or ritual, nate couldn’t seem to share in their enthusiasm. and it scared him. there was something eerie about it all ─ like some kind of storm had formed over the department and no one seemed to notice, or worse, care. or maybe they were better at hiding their fears than he was. nate had tried his hardest to prepare for this audition properly, but he hadn’t been able to focus long enough to even give it an honest try.
serious talk about what happened that night had pretty much ceased amongst the group, but now it felt like no one had given the winter masque a second thought. did everybody know something he didn’t? either way, he had been so distracted that the auditions came sooner than he realized. nate considered just waltzing in and recycling one of his faves from hamlet, because as much as he wanted to go for the big roles, he felt like this wasn’t the play for him to take that risk. nate already had a lot of other shit to deal with on a daily basis, and he convinced himself he would be a liability if he even considered the thought of going for, say, the title role. and in all honesty, the amount of emotional and psychological lifting he would have to do in order to portray macbeth (lady ‘beth or macduff for that matter) accurately was something he just didn’t have the capacity for at the moment.
so that’s where he was the day of auditions. the waiting was always the easiest part for him ─ being able to send quick texts or share jokes backstage was where nate shined. he didn’t think about the stage, or heidi, or the audition piece, because right now what mattered most was making sure other people felt comfortable and strong going into their auditions. lately nate had grown introspective as fuck, and he didn’t really understand why.
or maybe he did, but he didn’t want to acknowledge the facts as they were: he and teddy were having their drug-induced fun, but it was unsustainable by the way things were going; jason was probably guilty for something, and nate was sad that he was still too afraid to just confront him; discovering orson’s body had done something to nate, and he hadn’t stopped worrying about his own mortality since. he didn’t want to end up like that ─ drugged up, miserable, and alone. nate wanted to be this upstanding, nice guy, but there was this heaviness that had been creeping up on him after all these years of destructive behavior. and of course everyone saw the silly, carefree nate who was so easily relatable and funny all these years that it would be near impossible to believe by almost anyone that he had a personality beyond popping vallies like candy and sharing internet memes in group chats at 3 am. fuck.
he doesn’t hear his name at first, because he’s too busy thinking about a lot of other shit, but then he hears his name called once more, and nate comes back down from the stratosphere for two seconds to remember oh yeah, he has something really important to do right now. like audition. nate walks out on the stage just like every other audition for alderidge, except this time when looks up and sees heidi’s face, a fire ignites under his ass.
“yo. my name is nathaniel palmer and…,” he resists the urge to say, ‘and welcome back to my youtube channel’, “i’ll be auditioning with iago’s soliloquy from act two, scene three of othello.” maybe it’s the look on his face or how he takes a few steps backwards from the edge of stage, but heidi doesn’t verbally respond and nate’s thankful for it. his nerves are already bad enough, so he closes his eyes and counts his deep breaths. he tries to remember something of what he’s learned before. the exhale expels the fear, the inhale centers him in place. by the time he’s opened his eyes, iago takes form.
“And what’s he, then, that says I play the villain?”
at base, iago is written off as one of willy’s cruelest characters; he’s manipulative, cold, and intense as hell. but nate understands a part of iago, though, where who he presents to the world is not always how he feels behind the closed doors. honest iago, just like honest nate, has dark tendencies. but while nate has chosen to run from his (via literal running, drugs, or sex), iago sees no other choice but to embrace it. and here, in a rare moment, nate allows himself to embrace it too. where does that darkness come from? nate’s eyelids are low and he moves slowly, but each step is calculated in a wide S shape towards downstage center. in this moment, there are only two players: nate as the predator, and heidi as his accomplice and his prey. "─His soul is so enfettered to her love / That she may make, unmake, do what she list, / Even as her appetite shall play the god / With his weak function.” his breath is a little shaky, so he takes a beat to collect himself.
if orson could see him now, he’d probably laugh to spite nate’s attempt at pulling out something else besides the humorous, non-threatening fool. but that’s where orson was always wrong. humor was present in everything, especially in moments of high drama and danger ─ like conspiring to see the downfall of one’s appointed general, for example. and as long as humor is there, nate knows how to tap in. so he smiles then laughs, short and dry, before switching tactics and continuing with the piece. that’s the thing: navigating iago was second nature for nate, because he had become an expert at thinking on his feet and blending in wherever seemed necessary. it’s what he had to do to survive, and he wasn’t going to apologize for that. neither did iago.
“─When devils will the blackest sins put on, / They do suggest at first with heavenly shows, / As I do now.”
iago was basically airing out nate’s dirty laundry right there on the stage, because holy shit, how else would devils know how to act, how to behave, how to charm like their heavenly counterparts? maybe they didn’t ─ but fallen angels did. and nate never once felt like he was an angel, even when he was young and his family tried convincing him otherwise. he had a lot to be grateful for of course, but there was an anger that lurked deep below the surface. it manifested in his bad behavior in school. in his drug abuse. in his relationships. and that was no one’s fault, he’s had to realize. even though he wants to blame someone so badly. anyone, really. maybe that would help him hurt less.
the audition comes to a close, and the room is so quiet he can hear his heart beating through his chest. heidi breaks the silence at first, but nate feels a little lightheaded, so he non-verbally motions for her to hold her thought. putting on iago’s jealousy, his speech patterns, and his demeanor takes a little more effort to let go, so nate has to shake him out. literally. exhale to expel, inhale to center.
damn, he misses his therapist.
after another few seconds of obnoxious bouncing around, nate turns on his heel and beams in heidi’s direction. honest, silly nate was back in control. he hears her question for the second time and doesn’t miss a beat, “oh, sorry i didn’t mention it earlier. that was my audition for one of the weird sisters ─ the first witch, if you wanna get more specific.” she looks at him expectantly, but his grin refuses to falter. what else had she been expecting from him? nate thinks about his classmates, especially jason, and doubles down on his decision. it would be better this way. “and no, i’m not interested in other roles.” nate crosses his arms behind his torso and sways from side to side. there’s a lot more he could say, and in fact, a lot has already been left unsaid. but that was always the case, wasn’t it?
nate shrugs, and just like that, his audition is over.
“what can i say? i guess i’ve got a thing for sexy, bearded hags.”
More Posts from Aldysfool and Others
Things I am always down for no questions asked:
-Roadtrips
-Campfires
-Breakfast for dinner
-Hot coffee and good conversation
-Book shopping
-Naps
ofhelens:
Matching Nate’s light tone with her own japes (or at least, passable attempt at a joke - humour was never something that came easily), Helen’s expression wrinkled into an easy smile. “All those heretical dances in the woods? Or is that too The Crucible for Shakespeare?” She thought about telling him how the notion of running away felt appealing to her sometimes too - how dancing barefoot under moonlight felt like solace. Was it fear or bravery that kept her anchored? “Me…neither. I hope Heidi knows what she’s doing - I’m not sure she does…maybe I should offer to swap with someone? Like Jonah?”
.
nate laughs and makes a mental note about asking heidi her particular thoughts concerning the witches. suddenly, the idea of dancing barefoot onstage along with saffi and grace is hilarious, and he definitely wants it to happen. “oh please, i’m sure willy would’ve loved the crucible. fear, lies, hysteria, and witchcraft are the exact words i’d use to describe the scottish play, y’know? a match made in...purgatory? hell?” nate shakes his head at her response, “helen, it’s literally going to be fine. try not to worry so much about it. i’ll keep you entertained from the wings when you’re onstage, or whatever, until you’re comfortable. it’s our last show. we’ve gotta give it our best shot.” nate smiles at her, but hearing jonah’s name makes him a little anxious, so he backs up for as second.
“but uh, speaking of jonah....have you talked to him lately?”
.
pvlmer:
the entire debacle that happened during the masque had jason a little shaken. of course, he knew he wasn’t a murderer. he didn’t actually kill orson and he didn’t even know who did. but he did know that what the mysterious person said had some truth to it. jason could’ve saved orson and he didn’t. whether that was the right or wrong decision was something that jason was still trying to figure out. of course, it was morally wrong to deny someone help when they’re begging for their life. but is it morally wrong if that person is a dick? the jury (jason) was still out on that one.
it was a question that kept jason up at night. and specifically, it was the question that was keeping him up tonight. after the events, he fled to his room, wanting to be as far away from the refectory as possible. it was like the person screaming murderer was his own conscience, which just freaked him out a little too much. he was in his own world once he got back into his room, despite his roommate being there. it was like he was alone because everything just faded and he was left with just his thoughts. his mind started to wander and worry. not just about the night where he left orson for dead, but the other members of the program. as much as he felt like he didn’t belong with them, he couldn’t help but feel some sort of anxiety over whether they were okay or not. the anxiety was the worst when it came to his brother. as much as people talked about how theater kids became family, nate was his family.
just as he was thinking about nate, he heard a knocking on his door. he yawned. it was some ungodly hour in the morning, but god knows that jason didn’t sleep at all so it wasn’t like he was getting woken up. he stumbled towards the door, his movements slow and jagged as he was starting to have a migraine from the lack of sleep. he opened up the door to see nate and without thinking, jason pulls his brother in for a hug. “hey, are you okay?” he asks when he lets go of the embrace.
the door opens, and nate drops his phone in the process of hugging jason, because his brother is okay and that is enough to extinguish any fear in nate’s mind. when they hug, nate suddenly feels very stupid, because of course nothing bad has happened (yet), but he also realizes it’s kinda fucked up how triggered he was by the events from the ball. but the hug helps. the hug is warm and familiar and it’s exactly what nate needs right now. as they separate, nate starts to feel a little dejected, but jason asks him a question and he pulls himself out of it so quickly, it’s hardly noticeable.
“am i okay? uh, i don’t know jason, let’s see: pretty sure i sprained my ankle during the fight scene earlier, was accused of murdering our old director, went back to my room and realized i’m almost of happy pills which also stressed me out because my dealer says they won’t be back until next week, then i tried calling and texting you fifty million times; speaking of which, where the fuck is my—”, nate looks down and picks his phone off the floor, shoving it in his pocket. there’s another crack in the screen’s spider web and the battery life is at 3%, but what’s life without a lil’ danger? nate takes a breath. he can feel himself getting worked up and it’s too late (or early, technically) to take any more drugs. he sticks to a strict schedule.
“the point is, sweet brother o’ mine, i’m not doin’ so hot, but we gotta talk. like, now.” nate’s stomach grumbles, and he huffs. “also, i could really use a grilled cheese.”
if you could trade places with any of the fourth years, who would it be?
“ugh, this is so hard, but lemme just say that i thought a lot about who’d i want to take my place because i could trade places with any of these theatre nerds and have a fuckin’ ball. but who would really benefit from having mine? and that’s how i landed on my pride and joy, jason palmer. is this cheating because he’s my brother? i don’t care. i would want him to just let loose if we traded places; i’ve already done an alphabet’s worth of drugs and broken some laws; like, there isn’t much he could do that would surprise me. i just feel like he’s holding back on me all the time, and...honestly, i feel guilty about that. a lot. especially because i know i wouldn’t be here without him.”
a pause.
“ha. but yeah, if we got caught up in some freaky friday shit, i would totally facebook stalk our old classmates and tell some people off, tell hudson and helen i’m in love with them both to (hopefully) start some drama, audition for the lead role in our last production just to prove a point, call up mom and pops to announce i’m cutting them off and moving to France after graduation, and then snoop in mathias’ room to find evidence that he definitely killed orson so that i wouldn’t have to worry about the watch anymore.”
@pvlmer
bxstvrd:
DATE & TIME: around twilight….u know for the Ambiance LOCATION:Outside the FAB AVAILABILITY: Taken @aldysfool
Jonah hated rehearsals with everything in him this semester. Hated being relegated to the background, hated watching other people twirl through the spotlight, hated that he would never again feel the golden hue grace his face at Alderidge. He’d snuck out early for a smoke, knowing that he wouldn’t be in anymore scenes, but he turned, surprised, when he heard the doors of the FAB swing open behind him, feeling a certain awkwardness when he realized it was Nate coming out to break his solitude. Because living with Nate, he could avoid him easily, had mastered the art of hiding in plain sight from both of his roommates, but out here, in the open, he couldn’t avoid him… and he was even more surprised to find he didn’t want to.
There was a surprising amount of discomfort when his desire to stay brushed up against his instinct to run, and it made Jonah irritable when he didn’t want to be. He caught himself, thankfully, before he lashed out and said something he didn’t mean, but he did say, brusquely, without looking at Nate, “I hope you didn’t come out here because of me. I was fine before, and I’ll keep being fine after you’re gone, so… there’s no need to check on me. And if you didn’t follow me out here, well, great, but there’s plenty of space that you can occupy that’s not also in my space. So.”
.
rehearsal nate is a different kind of nate; less partying, less recreational drug usage, less deviant behavior. except on the weekends. and yeah, macbeth is fun and he’s actually not hating rehearsal. even being onstage with grace isn’t the total soul sucker it used to be when orson was around. heidi felt different as a director, and nate appreciated her willingness to play along with his antics — to some degree, at least. there came a point in rehearsal when he wouldn’t be needed for a while, and while nate normally loved to sit in the back of the rehearsal space and doodle in his script while watching his fellow thespians work on stage, his phone buzzes and he doesn’t even look at it to know what time it is. he grabs his backpack and heads towards the doors.
when he opens them and sees jonah, nate smiles for only a moment before it’s replaced by a raised eyebrow. the moodiness on this one. nate rolls his eyes, “somebody’s in a good mood. ...anyway, you don’t own the sidewalk and secretly we both know you enjoy my company, so there’s that. now if you’ll excuse me,” he looks around, “i have a date.” the lights around the FAB aren’t bright enough to completely illuminate the surrounding grounds, but nate is sure that he’ll find what he’s looking for if he stands here long enough.
“quick, random question: you allergic to small, furry animals?”
📱
What ringtone my muse has set for yours:
the palmer boys. (and yes, this is the ringtone.)
What contact photo my muse has set for yours:
What my muse thinks of the way yours texts:
i think nate probably wishes jason wasn’t so serious allllll the time, but he’s happy to hear from him either way.
How quickly my muse responds to your texts:
not gonna lie, nate might not respond as quickly because he’s trying to think of the best answer to come up with?
How often our muses text:
before orson’s death, i think they spent a good amount of time w/ each other so there weren’t many texts exchanged. now, i think there’s some distance between them (so more texting is involved). and a good chunk of it is probably family related.
How often our muses call:
nate loves a video chat and he calls jason ALL the time when he can. i wanna say that he prefers that to texting because he can never get a good read on jason’s mood via texts. so he has to see his lil’ face.
Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours:
before orson’s death, absolutely. things were fine. they were fine. there was no real reason to call him back, right? but these days, that’s definitely not the case. nate doesn’t know what jason might be calling him about. he answers before the first ring is done.
Last text(s) sent from my muse to yours:
[ sent, 8:48 p.m. ] : going on a donut run, wanna join? gotta feed the ladies and then heading that way.
[ sent, 8:49 p.m. ] : also yes, i’m still feeding those cats behind the FAB. they’re important to me, ok? trust me on this.
[ sent, 8:56 p.m. ] : omg pick up ur phone - there’s too many of them back here!!!! i’m trapped & scared!!!!!!!! SOS
[ sent, 10:00 a.m. ] : hey, this is ur weekly reminder that i love u very much, kiddo. i know i don’t say it all the time, but i’m proud of u. seriously. also, call mom back.
what was your first thought when you saw orson was dead?
“thoughts couldn’t evolve into words, just emotion. i was horrified, because i hadn’t ever seen that much blood before. (by the way, zero out of ten; would not recommend.) then there was fear, of what happened to him and if there was some fuckin’ murderer just strolling about campus; confusion, because i found something that put jason at the crime scene and that didn’t make any sense to me at all because he’s my brother and he wouldn’t do something like this or surely he’d at least he’d tell me; anger was up next, at myself and then towards orson. wanna know something? i didn’t call the police right away. seriously debated it, actually. and as fucked up as it sounds, i got a slice of joy out of all of that. the puppet strings had been severed.”
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everybody says "clown around" but no one ever asks "around, clown?" :(
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