harryzhangs:
harry snorts, trying to keep her attitude about it light and unaffected. a good sport, that’s what she has to be. it’s what she’s always been. no one needs to know just how fucking exhausting it’s become. “don’t wear it out, i’m not sure how they even fit the whole thing in one line on the cast list,” she catches up to nate with a grin. “you excited for the read-through? i’m considering starting a betting pool on the fights that’ll probably break out over the course of this whole process.”
nate’s eyes grow wide with mischief, “oh, you know i want in on this. i’ve got ten bucks and a bottle of cheap tequila that says josie will throw a temper tantrum and get herself kicked out of the play before hell week.” nate laughs and slows his pace towards the building, because honestly class is dumb and they’ll be out of here before they know it, as he considers the circumstances. as much as he was excited to dig into macbeth, he just couldn’t shake a thought. “heidi really just said ‘fuck it’ and gave this group of accused conspirators of real murder the chance to act in a play about murder, huh? i think it’s kinda badass, not gonna lie.”
pvlmer:
jason follows nate into his room. despite the fact that they’re seen to a lot of people as twins, they had never really been all that alike. but for some reason, it still worked. even though there were times when jason couldn’t help but wonder what it would’ve been like if he were an only child, but he always tried to keep those thoughts at bay. because nate was his brother, and it was wrong to have all of those thoughts. even though he had them.
“oh, right, the kitchen. i don’t think my grilled cheese can come anywhere close to the ones we get on postmates,” jason replies with a shrug. going to the kitchen to make them himself hadn’t even occurred to jason, because he always figured that no one would want anything he made – not his cooking, not his acting, not his love. “greasy and lots of calories.” he orders from his phone before sitting down next to nate. it almost feels like they’re back home, how they both used to sit on the floor and talk. they didn’t seem to do that much anymore. that was mostly jason’s fault, he had always kept certain parts of himself hidden from his brother. not because he didn’t trust him, but he just didn’t want nate to feel bad about anything. it wasn’t nate’s fault that he was more talented than jason, and that their parents loved him more. he never wanted his brother to know about the darkness that lived within him, his brother was a golden light, he didn’t deserve to see that. jason laughed at nate’s joke, despite the fact that the night had been heavy, he could always count on nate to make him laugh and take the weight off.
“i mean…just everything that happened at the winter masque. i couldn’t imagine anyone from our program killing orson so it was really weird to hear someone accusing us of killing him.”
jason hated lying to nate. he also hated how easy it was. maybe it was because he had had so much practice. so many years biting his tongue and pretending like he wasn’t angry, so many years pretending that he wouldn’t do anything just to get a fraction of what his brother got. but he had to lie to nate. he couldn’t let his brother see who he truly was, nate was one of the only people who loved jason and once he found out what a monster his brother was, that would all go away. he couldn’t corrupt his brother’s mind. so he lied through his teeth, like he had done so many times before.
if nate was honest with himself, he’d admit that jason was in his blind spot.
nate took pride in being able to separate the truth from the bullshit on a regular basis, but he had never ever been able to get a solid read on jason. and yeah, he knew it was painfully ironic that one of the closest people in his life was also the main person nate sometimes felt like he knew nothing about. and that freaked him out on occasion ─ probably because he still held onto a lot of guilt from their upbringing. but fuck, he was tired of playing that tune. one of these days he’d quit party drugs cold turkey, go back to his weekly visits with dr. june, apologize to his brother, forget about orson, and get on with his fucking life. that day, unfortunately, was not today.
nate looks at jason longer than he should before it becomes noticeable, but nate really wants to take him in as long as he can. when he sees jason, he sees the shy kid who tagged along on (most) of his adventures. he sees a sweet, kind brother and son. he couldn’t be capable of actual terror, could he? had jason been developing into someone else this whole time and nate had been too selfish enough to notice? nate flashes a grin with his shrug, and hopes that it’s enough. but he wants to nudge at the issue, if even just a little bit further.
“i don’t know j, you never know who’s capable of something like that. you might be their roommate. their friend. hell, their brother. the claims had to have some truth to them, right?” nate sighs, “i’m just glad i don’t have to worry about you.”
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
📱
What ringtone my muse has set for yours:
this shit is bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-s.
What contact photo my muse has set for yours:
What my muse thinks of the way yours texts:
nate loves how mads texts. never a dull moment, and he appreciates that.
How quickly my muse responds to your texts:
pretty soon unless he’s sleep. if he’s getting a text from mads, they’re 99% talking shit, 1% making plans to talk shit. and nate is a messy bitch who lives for drama.
How often our muses text:
i’d say every few days or so — probably in bursts? like, tons of texting on wednesday and then not another burst until saturday. but that’s because nate calls.
How often our muses call:
often! nate doesn’t think texts truly encapsulate mads’ voice. so he facetimes her, especially if she hates it.
Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours:
nah, but then he forgets to call her back. every. single. time.
Last text sent from my muse to yours:
[ sent, 10:39 p.m. ] : wanna get fucked uuuuuuup tonight???
[ sent, 10:42 p.m. ] : or u could keep me company while i make some edibles. i’ve got a fancy brownie mix & a lot of shit to get off my chest.
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.
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.”
pvlmer:
jason had been on edge recently. usually when he was on edge, it wouldn’t show. he had gotten pretty good at hiding his frustrations. but between the masque ball and the police interrogation, he thought the mask that he wore might be beginning to crack. and he never really felt comfortable showing anyone else what was beneath it. most people already thought so lowly of him or not at all, if they saw him without his mask, he couldn’t imagine what they would think. he got a little nervous when nate called him to talk, he was worried something had gone wrong. his brother’s tone was less jovial and humorous than usual, so he knew something had to be up. he walked towards the lake where he saw nate and gave him a nod as he watched him skip stones. “it’s all in the flick of the wrist,” jason said in a small voice. “so uh…what’s up? why did you want to meet? here of all places?”
.
nate only catches a piece of jason’s suggestion, but he picks up one more stone and throws it anyway. it skips a few times, and then submerges. nate turns to face jason, aware of how sketchy he’s being. hell, how sketchy he felt. thinking back, nate couldn’t remember too often that they fought or had any bad blow ups like other siblings he knew. and honestly, nate could never tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. he looks around and shrugs, “i don’t know, i guess i came out here to think for a while, but then i realized you and i needed to talk about all of this...shit. honestly, that statement from the police has been freaking me out. i don’t know what you told them, but i basically ran off at the mouth about orson and what i knew about the drugs. and about chandler. whatever i knew to keep them from looking in my direction. ...in your direction.” nate looks at jason, and really can’t help but feel a little hurt that his own brother didn’t feel comfortable enough to share his mistakes. his trauma. his guilt. but somebody needed to make the first step.
“listen, it’s about time we talked about the night orson died.”
What ringtone my muse has set for yours:
What contact photo my muse has set for yours:
What my muse thinks of the way yours texts:
How quickly my muse responds to your texts:
How often our muses text:
How often our muses call:
Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours:
Last text sent from my muse to yours:
oofscenestlr:
one thing that’s held through the past few years of dealing with nat is that he somehow always manages to make it about him. she had first hand experience, the constant days and nights when orson would pair them together was like a thorn in her side. getting through scenes was tough, but she tried to stay professional about it. so what if she was a try-hard? she was doing more than half the people here anyway.
“i’m not even gonna try and respond to that fucked up theory. just some advice for you - maybe get your head out of your ass and realize the world isn’t in love with you. in fact, the world has a lot more things going on than falling to their knees to worship you.” she’s bitter, it’s true. and maybe this was a losing fight, but she had to hold her own. she was a perfectionist, that much is true, and if nate couldn’t see there was anything to gain from that, it was lost on him. but trying so hard to impress orson’s ghost? grace had no respect for orson anymore. “have you considered i work so hard to get where i am for myself? and not for the fake validation of some ghost busy haunting our school and the real murderer?”
giving somebody shit for actually caring about something, especially their craft, is the lowest hanging fruit and while nate knows that, it doesn’t stop him from standing behind his words. because yeah, while grace’s work ethic was something fierce, she had generally not been a nice person from the moment nate met her. and in the wake of orson’s death, she still didn’t seem to get it. and maybe she never would. “save me the fucking diatribe about how you’re so different from the rest of us and how much you’ve sacrificed to get here. ‘cause if you wanna compare notes, we could be here all night,” nate takes another long inhale of the joint and closes his eyes.
for a moment he thinks he can feel it — the warmth of this particular strain — but it doesn’t last long. clearly whatever he had going on right now was not going to be solved with just one smoke.
it’s a small revelation that he chooses not to focus on, so nate turns back to grace instead. “look, did you come outside to just yell at me about petty shit or did you wanna smoke and try to chill the fuck out for once? i mean, aren’t you tired of all this fighting? i know i am. i’m fucking tired, grace.” nate pushes himself off of the railing he was leaning up against and extends the joint to her. things were changing around here — and while drugs weren’t going to fix any of their issues, nate didn’t have it in him to keep throwing insults back and forth. not tonight, at least.
everybody says "clown around" but no one ever asks "around, clown?" :(
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