Teddynewell​:

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 anchor; when: the night after the cast read-through; who: @teddynewell​.

for once, nate makes it through the day without falling asleep in class and/or skipping to smoke some weed, because he looks forward to hanging out with teddy all damn day at his fave spot: the anchor. while it didn’t have the beats and the strobe lighting of a rave, nate couldn’t deny the charm of the place for students and professors alike. plus, nate practically lived at the anchor his sophomore year, so the staff was like an extended family at this point. after ordering two fireball shots, he leans against the bar and turns to teddy. with a grin, “you’ll be proud of me. i haven’t taken a single drug all day - scout’s honor - just so i could get wasted with my favorite drinking partner.” when the glasses arrive, nate order two more and slides the first shot over to teddy. he raises his glass. “what should we toast to?”

ofhelens​:

Class is easy. Helen can do class. She can sit there, colour in her entire copy of MacBeth in pink highlighter and pretend that the world makes sense. That she was supposed to end up with this role. That Jonah was meant to be slighted. That Josie was supposed to play a minor role. (I mean Josie, really?!). Snapped out of her headspace by Nate, she smiles and nods softly. “Sorry, a thousand miles away. Just…thinking about MacBeth. Congrats - by the way. If anyone was going to curse me, I’d want it to be you.” Turning to address his actual question, she slides out a piece of loose paper. “Here - feel free to take these away. Better you fall asleep in Nicole than Sebastian’s class.”

nate bows at helen, making a dramatic show of accepting her notes. “i don’t know what it is, but i’ve just been so tired lately. and thanks - honestly, i think this show is gonna help me reach my final form; i’ll retire to the woods after graduation and start a coven, maybe.” nate grins and motions to her, “but no, an official congratulations are in order to you! i’m sure you never really saw ‘Scottish gentleman’ in your future, but here you are about deliver the best Ross I’ve ever seen, methinks. what say you, m’lady?” he slides the paper into his bag before he turns to helen, moving to leave class alongside her.

where: the castle; when: post-shit show that was act V, scene iii, in the wee hours of the morn.; who: @pvlmer​

watching act V, scene iii was a surreal experience — one minute he was wrapped up in teddy’s performance as romeo, waiting for that sweet final line before The Death, and the next — “murderer!” ripped into the room and nate felt his heart drop into his ass. he had wanted a lot of things in that moment, but his first thought was to get to jason. between all the commotion and the general consensus amongst his peers to get the fuck out of there no matter what, not long after, nate finds himself outside of jason’s room, knocking as hard as he can. rhythmically, though.

while it hadn’t been very long since they had scrambled off, nate had this feeling that if he didn’t talk to jason soon, it would be too late. too late for what, he didn’t know — but the words “orson is dead because of all of you” kept ringing in his head. while nate doesn’t feel so guilty about the part he played in orson’s death, that doesn’t help him feel any better about everyone else; especially jason. the images replay: orson’s body, the blood, the watch, the red and blue lights — nate was spooked. and if was thinking clearly, he would’ve caught up to jason the second they left instead of losing him in the rush of it all. but with five texts and two calls which each ended in incoherent gibberish on nate’s part, he was sure jason got the hint  — things were urgent. so there nate is, knocking even harder. ....wait, did jason even tell him that he was back in his room?

“shit!” nate pulls his phone out of his pocket and pulls up his recent call list. he calls jason again, because the thought of his brother getting cornered by some pissed off liberal arts majors is enough to send nate’s anxiety skyrocketing into the stratosphere. “pick up the phone, dammit. pick up the phone.” 

bxstvrd​:

Jonah sometimes wished he’d just… left Nate there. It was a cruel thought, an intrusive one, and he could never manage to take himself to the end of that thought exercise, always snapping himself back to the reality where he’d sat with his classmate, cup of water in hand, staying the night until he was sure, sure that Nate would be okay. To this day, he had no idea why he’d done that. No idea where that kindness had come from within him. In the time since, he had decided, with a bitter sort of finality, it must have been a fluke. There was nothing else he could point to concretely that proved otherwise.

“Then let me ask a different question,” he said, finally meeting Nate’s gaze and leveling him with a sharp stare. “What’s in this for you?”

He took a deep breath, flicking his eyes back down, and he began picking at the threads of his duvet as he spoke. “People don’t just… do nice things. Not in my experience anyways. I helped you because I didn’t want to have to contend with the guilt of what could have happened if I didn’t. Not because I care. Not because I’m a good person. Probably because I’m a categorically bad person who cannot handle yet more evidence of that thrown back into my face. So, on top of being an ass, I guess I’m also a coward.”

And then, if only to make sure that Nate wasn’t going to have him committed, he added, “This happens before every audition. It’s normal. I promise.” Or at least, as normal as the crushing weight of his own depression, sitting on his chest like a ten ton gorilla, could be.

His stomach grumbled. Reluctantly, he took the banana, peeling it from the butt end and breaking off a chunk before popping it into his mouth.

nate thinks for a moment, because jonah asks him a good question, and he just doesn’t know if what immediately comes to mind is the right answer. he wants to go back and forth with jonah about how there are people in the world who just want to help. how some people actually accept their faults head-on and put in the work to become better versions of themselves. how some people are just good. end of story. but the more nate sits here and listens to jonah, the more he thinks none of that would matter. especially coming from him. so nate finishes his waffle and reaches for the bottle of OJ.

“y’know, i don’t think anybody’s a good person. i feel like most people are just trying their best not to fuck things up on a daily basis. and depending on the day, hour to hour, we’re lucky to get by.” nate shrugs.

“and i used to feel like you do. all the time. and spoiler alert, no amount of party drugs or vodka could help chase those thoughts away; in fact, they might’ve induced an episode or two. or three,” nate sits in the memories for a second, although they’re uncomfortable to him now; they feel a lifetime away. “but i let the people who were in my corner fight for me. take care of me. ...they saved my life.” nate takes a deep breath, because it’s hard to think about the person he used to be. the person he still is. the person he wants to be.

and now, looking at jonah, nate can’t help but wonder if there’s some alternate universe where they’ve switched places. because if nate didn’t have his parents or even jason, he’s sure he would be in a similiar position to jonah. and it scares him to think he wouldn’t be strong enough to last this long. but then he imagines a silly, happy jonah and it’s weird enough that he chooses to focus on that instead. nate grins.

“but you’re right. we’re not close. not even friends yet. .......and we won’t ever be, if you keep eating bananas like that. it’s a phallic fruit, but we’re not in the seventh grade, jonah. embrace the phallus and eat it like a fuckin’ normal person, or i’m never eating breakfast with you again.” 

where: the castle’s library; when: earlier in the week after the cast announcement; who: @hudscnwilliams​.

although the castle’s library wasn’t as expansive as the main one in alderidge hall, nate still found some good stuff. it had been a pretty long day even by a monday’s standards, and nate had waited all day to scour the library for non-Shakespearean references on witches in the 1600s. and if he was lucky, nate was hoping to find something that would resemble an actual spell, or at least ingredients for a potion. maybe he’d practice on his peers, y’know, totally as a joke — or method acting. there was a book he had climbed up to reach, but had misjudged its weight, so it slips out of his hands and brings down almost the whole row with it, a book knocking him in the head in the process. nate hops down and starts to pick things up off the ground. “...i’m okay! ....i think! ....if anyone cares!” 

ofmadsle​:

— ✶ 

Mads couldn’t help her laughter even if she tried, and he’s right. It paints a pretty picture. She could see Julian going in with it, and the small chaos the three of them could make together. “Imagine how cursed the play actually would be with us. Should we create a conspiracy theory?” She grins, though she was sure there was plenty of that going on. She was just as excited as him. But, she knew she should at least be honest. A witch wouldn’t be a bad role, she enjoyed them as well. Alas, the heart knew what it want, so she may have to break Nate’s just a bit.

“You know, while I can save the ass kicking for a different time, I was actually thinking of Lady Macbeth. Can you picture it? Sexy murder queen in all her 5′3 glory?” She laughs, because of course she has to make light of it to ease her anxiety surrounding such a decision. “Though, I think we should be the witches anyways. Halloween’s passed but it would be fun. Do you think I could grow a beard in time? I bet mine would be magnificent.” 

“ugh, well you know how i feel about lady ‘beth. and as one of your closest BFFs, while i’m selfishly thinking about all the trouble we’d be blamed for...i’m also super happy for you and will be your biggest cheerleader in going after, arguably, one of willy’s most complex female characters. which isn’t saying much, but y’know.” nate couldn’t help but grin at her, proud of mads going for the gold. what did she have to lose? what did any of them have to lose anymore? “mads le as lady macbeth. sounds about right. i mean, i can totally believe you’d conspire to kill a man.” that joke kinda hits different, since a man has actually died, but nate decides not to dwell on it. but he looks up, and they’re just outside the refectory, near where they were a few nights ago. he glances in mads’ direction.

“but you know what? let’s fuckin’ do it. i’m always down to dress up like a witch on any given day for absolutely no reason at all.” nate smiles, and makes a mental note to go snooping through the costume & makeup dept. later to see if he could get his hands on some beards. “not that i don’t already have an idea, but what made you go for lady m? i feel like a lot of people — gender be damned — might be gunning for that part. hell, the third years might try to show us up. it is the last show,” and the moment nate says it, something clicks. it’s their last production together as a cohort. and without orson. something about it feels super ominous, especially in the wake of the events from the masque ball, but he hopes it’s just his nerves.

pvlmer​:

as much as jason hates to admit it, he needs this. he doesn’t want to admit that he was freaked out by the events at the masque. because that would be admitting that he has a reason to be scared. and he can’t let that happen. he can’t let people know that he had anything to do with orson’s death. least of all nate. nate was one of the only people he felt like actually believed in him and he didn’t want his brother to believe the horrible truth about him, that he was an accomplice to murder. 

jason nods as his brother relays his stressful evening. he can definitely sympathize, considering they were all accused of murdering orson. but jason knew that nate wasn’t involved in the murder, he was the perfect one. and besides, he couldn’t picture his bright and shining brother hurting anyone intentionally. jason used to think he wouldn’t hurt others intentionally either, until that night. at the mention of happy pills, jason can’t help but instinctively put his hand on nate’s shoulder. he’s not really sure what he’s trying to convey. maybe that he’s there, even if it sometimes feels like he isn’t. jason feels another pang of guilt when he realizes how scared nate must’ve been not getting an answer from him. “right, sorry about that, i put my phone on silent so i could think,” jason replies with a grimace and an ‘ i’m your brother and you love me so forgive me ’ face. 

“did someone say grilled cheese?” jason asked, with a slight smile. despite the terrible events of the night and the sheer amount of food he had eaten to avoid talking to people, jason would kill for a grilled cheese right now. “that sounds like the perfect meal to take the edge off what happened tonight. wanna postmates and hang in here?”

before jason can finish his question about nate hanging out with him, he’s already ducked past him and entered the room. nate hates feeling like this — when even he can’t laugh the pain away, but he finds some sort of peace when he’s with jason. sure, their relationship wasn’t the best, and nate hated that they were obviously keeping secrets from each other  — but they were brothers. and for every bad memory, there were two good ones in its place. at least, that’s how nate saw it. 

“well i was hoping you’d offer to go with me to the kitchen and whip up some homemade cheezies, but honestly, spending too much money on postmates sounds like a much better idea. i can send you the money, just get me anything greasy and with a stupid amount of calories on top. i trust you.” nate takes off his jacket and throws it over the back of a chair while taking in the suite jason and mathias share. he doesn’t visit often, he realizes. nate finds a seat to plop down in and spread out, the ache in his ankle dull enough to ignore. even though he tries to keep things somewhat light, nate knows he can’t bullshit with jason for much longer. he runs through a gamut of emotions — sadness, anger, confusion — and none of it seems to ever make sense of what he discovered that day with the person standing in front of him. the only brother he’s ever known. his first best friend. his first confidant. it’s heartbreaking to think jason could ever be responsible for  — 

“so. you said you needed time to think, right? ....what about? i mean, if it’s about ice caps melting in the Artic, i’m right there with you, buddy.”

texts | palmer bros.

jason: for once i'm actually feeling kind of okay about my casting

jason: what about you? are you excited to play a witch?

nate: whew, i'm glad u feel that way!

nate: i was def ready to raise hell if you weren't cool w/ it. it's our last show, y'know? we should get what we DESERVE. but then again, i look at ppl like mathias & josie and i'm like .....yikes

nate: um HELL YEAH i am!! a crone who casts spells & cackles at people's misfortunes is in my top 5 other lives i'd like to live. you know this