Latest Posts by aldysfool - Page 2

harryzhangs​:

location: campus, morning after cast list reveal closed to @aldysfool​

“nate?” harry calls out, squinting toward the figure walking toward the FAB just ahead of her. she power-walks a bit to catch up to him, figuring if they both have to be up this early to go to class, they might as well go together. “by the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes. wait, shit, is it even the first witch who says that?”

nate is strolling along towards the FAB, trying to decide if he wants to ditch class this morning when he hears his name being called. he grins at harry, but his mind blanks on the line, “oh fuck, i don’t actually know! damn, you found me out. i’m a bad actor.” nate slows his pace, ”but hey, good gentlewoman slash donalbain slash siward, congrats to you! how do you feel?” 

bxstvrd​:

Jonah could barely keep up with Nate, his words blurring and twisting together, all of them turning into a cacophony of nonsense, filling up the silence in the room. And… he tried to find it in him to spit and snarl, to say something so cruel and terrible that Nate would leave, but instead, he was forced to contend with the truth: he liked that Nate was here. He liked not being alone.

He picked listlessly at the waffle, instead opting to grab for the drink Nate had offered him, the familiar aroma of fresh coffee tugging him out of his shell. Hands pawed up in his sweater, he lifted the cup to his lips and took a long, revelatory sip.

Then, even he surprised himself, because there was no malice in his voice when he asked: “Why are you here?”

Not because he’d turned over a new leaf. Mostly because he couldn’t muster the strength to be mean to Nate, which was his usual method of forcing people to leave him alone. It had worked so far with Julian, that much he was certain, but it was also a lonely way to live. When all you wanted was for people to see you for who you are, and yet you kept giving them reasons not to look past the surface… who did Jonah have to blame for any of this but himself?

“We’re not friends,” he said bluntly, not for any purpose other than to root them back in the truth. “You don’t owe me anything. So… why are do you care?”

nate is halfway through his waffle already, because his sweet tooth is something fierce in the morning, when he hears jonah’s question. it’s something about jonah’s candor that nate appreciates; if people walked around and just said what they felt more often, then maybe shit wouldn’t be so weird all the time ─ especially in this department. but nate can tell something is kicking jonah’s ass, and he can’t just leave him like this without having something to say about it. because he’s been there. 

although nate hasn’t completely finished chewing, he shrugs in response, “mmuhm? t’ me tha souns li’ th perf-uh pers tuh ta to*.” nate gives him a thumbs-up and a closed-mouth smile before swallowing. and then he collects his thoughts. 

“so, those are good questions, but secretly i don’t think you care about what my answer is either way. maybe sometimes a bro just wants to share a waffle with another bro. even if said bro doesn’t want the other bro to be there,” nate shakes his head and pulls out a banana from his bag. “besides, the same reason why i’m here is the same reason why you were there for me years ago.” 

he goes to take another bite of his waffle before he offers his banana to jonah. “you want some potassium?”

texts | palmer bros.

nate: j

nate: jasonnnnnnnnn

nate: how ya feelin, champ?

nate palmer as ᴇʀᴏꜱ, ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏᴅ ᴏꜰ 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮.  

#tb halloween ‘17 — ♥ “alexa, play greedy by ariana grande.”

ofmadsle​:

Nate always surprised her with his sincerity, though she finds herself more surprised when people were genuinely in her corner and on her side. It wasn’t a reflection on anyone else, really, but just one of the myriad of trust issues she harbored over the years. She smiles, small at first, yet it grew into a wide grin as he continued. “Thank you, thank you. Billy’s got some issues writing women but hey, that monologue got me here, ya know? Kind of ending this semester where I started.” She laughs at the picture he painted, only it faltered just a bit as she was reminded of Orson’s death. “And you’ll be the best damn witch I’ve seen. Double double toil and trouble should be the matching tattoos we eventually get.” She grins, lips pursing together slightly as she realized where they were. “With how often men test my patience, it’s true.” She grins. She wouldn’t dwell on it either.

“Fuck yeah! I should throw a costume party, because what do we have to look forward to? St. Patty’s Day? How boring, I don’t need green beer.” She grins at the thought of all the shenanigans she could get herself into, determined to end this semester with a bang now more than ever. “Oh, well, you know.” She shrugs, slightly shy but smiles nevertheless. “I go for these big roles at the community theater, I know I can do it. And you know, with Heidi here, I figured why not give it a real shot. Ya know? Like I know I’ll have competition, and that’s okay. I don’t need to get it, but I wanna know I at least tried for the role that got me to love Shakespeare in the first place.” She sighed, turning only slightly solemn. “Sounds dumb, but like you said. It’s our last show.” It was increasingly clear that Mads’ remorse for Orson’s death was simply nonexistent, and while she didn’t kill him herself, she might as well have with how she was talking. If only she knew.

nate’s eyes light up at mads’ suggestion, “holy shit, i will hold you to that, regardless of who we end up with. i’ve been meaning to try inner lip tattoos, so that’s perfect. i think there’s a word count, but whatever.” nate laughs, and offers mads a high five. costume parties at literally any time of the year were nate’s favorite thing in the world. and the further away from halloween, the better. 

“well honestly, i hope you snag it. and it may be my spidey senses or the weed kickin’ in, but i’ve got a good feeling heidi is about to shake some shit up around here. it’s not like we’re the only ones who’ve got shit to prove in the wake of...everything that’s happened, y’know?” if nate was heidi, he didn’t know what he’d do. but with orson’s death and the events from the masque creating this looming presence over the department, something big had to happen, right? nate felt like was he was doing nothing else but waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“but let’s stop for a second. do you really think one of us did what we were all accused of the other night?” nate sighs, “because i’ve been thinking...and i’ve got some conspiracy theories knocking around in my head. one, of which, says that we’re on a collective acid dream we haven’t woken up from yet.”

bxstvrd​:

Of course it was Nate.

Well-meaning, kind-hearted, persistent Nate. Jonah half wished it had been Julian who’d come back to the room solely because at least Julian was used to his moodiness, his snappishness, his cruelty. Nate… still seemed to think there was some shred of good in him, and Jonah, who’d be mean to a rock for sport, somehow couldn’t find it in him to treat the other with the same callousness he presented towards the rest of the world.

Didn’t mean he didn’t hate every second of being aware of his soft, incurable heart.

“I’m awake,” he mumbled, barely above a whisper. He refused to let Nate see him, refused to roll over and get up. And besides, even if he wanted to do either of those things, he couldn’t find the energy. “I’m not hungry.”

But he did have to find the energy. He wouldn’t be left alone if he didn’t at least try to assert himself. And so, it was with enormous effort that he sat up, rubbing tiredness from his eyes, before turning to face Nate. “If it’s alright with you, I don’t feel much like talking. I think– I’m coming down with something.” A total lie, but it was easier than telling the truth.

He couldn’t quite meet Nate’s gaze, knew his eyes always gave too much away, before finishing with, “You should go to class. I’ll be fine.”

nate sighs in relief, because while it seems like jonah’s going through a lot of other shit, at least he’s not dead. but he doesn’t look great, so nate attempts something most people don’t dare to do and bursts jonah’s personal bubble to take his temperature. which is really just the back of nate’s hand against jonah’s forehead, but it’s all nate needs to know that something’s up. 

“yeah, you’re comin’ down with something alright,” nate turns towards the food, “it’s pretty common, i think. almost as common as the cold,” he finds two forks and picks up the drink carrier, “and it’s been going around the department these past couple of weeks, so it’s actually not surprising you got it.” nate puts the food on a nearby surface, kicks off his shoes, and sits down on the floor next to jonah. “you know what it is, right?” he pushes one of the warm containers into jonah’s lap and hands him a fork and syrup. 

“just a classic case of bullshit, jonah. and while it’s normally contagious, lucky for you, my immune system is already shit so missing class is common for me.” nate opens up his own waffle container and takes no time to bathe it in syrup and butter, before he looks back up at jonah. “look. i don’t know what’s going on, or why it’s happening today, but i do know that obviously something is up with you and while you’re not obligated to talk to me about any of it, i’m not letting you face it alone on an empty stomach. so. we’re going to sit here and eat these Belgian waffles, because letting breakfast food get cold is a crime i don’t think i’m willing to commit. ...oh shit, you’re not on a gluten-free kick, right?”

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.” 

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.”

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.

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?”

zahramalik​:

LOCATION: fine arts building rehearsal hall TIME: after heidi’s announcement, before the auditions AVAILABILITY: closed @aldysfool​

“Bow, stubborn knees; and, heart with strings of steel, Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe. All may be well.”

Zahra ends Claudius’s monologue on her knees. She’d manage to run through it without forgetting her lines that time, but it wasn’t her strongest performance. Claudius’s guilt for murdering King Hamlet was hard to tap into, which was ironic, considering how Zahra had plenty to feel guilty about. 

After a beat, she smacks her hands on the top of her thighs and looks up at Nate expectantly. “It’s trite, isn’t it? I know it is.” Zahra groans reaches over to grab the copy of Hamlet beside her and flipped to the dog-eared page. “I know I can pull this off. It’s just… I feel like Heidi’s going to expect someone to do Claudius for Macbeth and I don’t want to be predictable.” 

She shuts the her book with a huff, clearly frustrated with herself. “Should we even keep trying? Or is Heidi going to take one look at us and make me Hecate and you the Porter?” It was harsh, but Zahra was in a limited supply of optimism after years of dealing with Orson. How could she be sure that Heidi was any different, or even willing to see her as a contender for the lead?

going through audition pieces with zahra was the best distraction, because to be honest, nate hadn’t done enough homework to decide on who he was auditioning for. in fact, a day or two prior to this, he’d joked to heidi about trying his hand in lighting or set design. needless to say, she didn’t find it funny. so there nate was, slow clapping to zahra’s performance of claudius and flipping through his copies of the bard’s four great tragedies with his feet propped up.  

“okay, now that’s just going way too far. first of all, even heidi knows the porter is too good of a scene stealer role for a third year, or even a second. plus, she might surprise us and decide to cut hecate altogether. i know i would,” nate smirks and shrugs as he flips through Othello. nate knows that the more he procrastinates the higher the chances he won’t get anything good. especially for a show like ‘beth. but nate ignores the thought, mostly because he doesn’t know how to process it just yet, and points at zahra.

“and while it might not mean much, i think you’d kill at this role, too. who’s your competition, you think? i could take ‘em out for you. .........like literally, i’d just throw them off by asking them out to a really fancy dinner.”

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.”

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.”

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.

harryzhangs​:

“yeah, it’s a shame i left my favorite monastic tunic back at home. really fucked up on that one,” harry chuckles, shrugging at the next remark noncommittally. it’s not as though she’s having a terrible night– things are going fairly well, all considered. the detectives are on her radar, certainly, but she hasn’t gotten any unwanted attention from them or noticed them focusing on any of her peers. for the most part, harry’s just been enjoying the evening with her friends. it all just feels a lot more stifling than usual, right now.

“fuck it, might as well,” she agrees, taking the joint from nate. “thanks.” harry brings it to her lips and inhales deeply, holding her breath for a moment before letting the smoke out in a long stream. a couple coughs make their way up as she passes the joint back, not enough of a regular smoker for her body to be totally accustomed. she eyes nate curiously, letting the two of them sit in the comfortable silence for a moment before voicing her question. “so what brings you away from the dancing and camaraderie? i’m guessing it’s not just the sudden urge to get high.”

harry was almost too good at that; she could play along with his dumb banter, and then have nate ready to spill everything with the flip of a switch. but that’s how it always seemed, for some reason. maybe she just has one of those faces — please, tell me all your dirty secrets!  — which nate is sure he’s told her once or twice before. so he considers her question for a moment, deciding on how much he should tell her, because she doesn’t get paid to be his goddamned therapist, but nate doesn’t know how much longer he can go on like this. 

and it’s as if it had been waiting in the wings for its cue, nate feels the first tingle  — a precursor to what he’s come to know and love about weed. but harry’s still there and expecting an answer, so nate sighs, “it’s because the food really sucks tonight, and it’s bumming me out. when’s aldy gonna stop serving us ore derps for every fuckin’ event? we’re not rabbits.” nate shakes his head and brings the joint back to his lips. on exhaling, he offers it up to harry once more. she deserves a better answer than that, so he shrugs, “and maybe those detectives inside are rubbing me the wrong way. seeing them here just reminds me of a lot of shit i don’t want to think about right now. or ever again. ....what about you?” 

ofmadsle​:

It seems like Nate and her had the same idea, though she didn’t expect to find anyone outside yet. She needed a moment, a breather to herself. So much happened before the break, with Orson’s verbal take down against her to his damned death, who knows what happened in between? She wasn’t sure how she could show her face, when she was sure every anxiety she felt was written all over it. Mads supposes she should be grateful that the ball was a masquerade after all. 

Still, she’s glad to find Nate, though she supposes she’s caught him in a private moment. There’s an urge to make a joke- is that the original Augustus Waters monologue?- but she holds her wit in for once. Instead, she makes her step a bit louder, hoping he’d hear her so she wasn’t catching him completely off guard. She racks her brain, wondering what comes next, but all she could remember was Romeo’s next line. Clearly, she wasn’t the Friar. “Good morrow, father.” She smiles softly, grateful for a friendly face. 

seeing mads always lifts nate’s spirits, so it’s easy for him to smile back at her and respond so easily, “benedicite.” to be honest, he probably could’ve done that whole scene by heart — there was something about ro & jules that just got to him. nate welcomes her company with open arms, because in situations like these, two was always better than one. it’s hard to be left alone with his thoughts for long periods of time. with mads there, nate manages to forget about the detectives, orson, and the long night ahead of them, if only temporarily.

— ✶

“come on mads, you know we’re basically two-thirds of the weird sisters in the living flesh. think about it: we strut onstage with our sexy beards, our couplet rhyming, and our — arguably — wicked ways, and then vanish before the real tragic shit goes down. it’s a no-brainer.” it’s a few days later after all the events from the masque ball and heidi’s announcement of their final play, and nate is, for lack of a better phrase, fucking thrilled. on this particular afternoon he has made plans to hang out with mads, and unfortunately for her, he hasn’t shut up yet.

“so, what do you think — do you love it? do you hate it? are you gonna kick my ass right now?”

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.”

📱

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.

📱 better late than never! hehe

What ringtone my muse has set for yours:

um, this was obvious, right?

What contact photo my muse has set for yours:

What my muse thinks of the way yours texts:

nate thinks teddy is adorable, so however he texts is adorable by association.

How quickly my muse responds to your texts:

v quickly — nate’s phone is important for all drug & sex-related activities.

How often our muses text:

maybe not as often as you’d initially think  — i’m sure they lots of each other throughout the week! (again, drugs & sex)

How often our muses call:

again, maybe not as much as you’d think. i mean, they’re too busy doing other things these days, so. (other things = you guessed it, drugs & sex)

Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours:

nope! nate answers those late-night calls reaaaaal quick.

Last text(s) sent from my muse to yours:

[ sent, 2:28 a.m. ] : u up? 

[ sent, 2:32 a.m. ] : so what’s the verdict on inviting hudson in for that 3some? yay/nay?

[ sent, 7:55 a.m. ] : sorry, i was definitely KIDDING. .....................unless????

📱

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.

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.”

what's your dream role?

“fuck me, this is a hard one. let’s keep this strictly shakespeare, ‘cause i could riff all day on contemporary theatre and how much tragicomedies speak to me on a spiritual level. so yeah, the dream role would have to go to everybody’s super problematic fave, iago. he’s an enigma of a character - with unpredictable emotions, motives, tactics, and some of the best soliloquys willy ever wrote. he’s fucked up in so many ways, and i wanna sink my teeth into him and take him on. i’ve been craving a puzzle.”

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 chorus for sure.

What contact photo my muse has set for yours: 

What my muse thinks of the way yours texts:

nate’s kryptonite is a lame convo, so as long as julian keeps it fun, nate doesn’t really care about how he texts. because, let’s be real, nate is in the emoji using-lowercase writing-triple texting-five exclamation points gang. he would have no room to complain.

How quickly my muse responds to your texts:

pretty quickly. mostly because nate’s phone is an extension of his hand; he’ll respond between scene run-throughs, in class, during a presentation, showering, and sleeping (it happened once). it doesn’t really matter.

How often our muses text:

since they’re roomies, i imagine they text pretty regularly. if not for nate to talk shit about everything going on, then to send julian funny memes.

How often our muses call:

exposing nate in the worst way right now: he hates phone calls, but loves using facetime/video chats. it’s kinda his thing. he just likes looking at people’s faces when they talk, okay? and yes, he will call at the worst times.

Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours:

uh, i don’t see why he would. if julian’s calling, nate’s picking up the damn phone.

Last text(s) sent from my muse to yours:

[ sent, 3:28 a.m. ] : uhhhh i just tried humming while plugging my nose - almost blew my brains out? i think i popped a blood vessel??? my feet are numb????? am i dying??????????

[ sent, 4:52 a.m. ] : hey thx again for not makin me in2 a nate kabob the othr night during the r&j scene. ur a professional & i <3 u

[ sent, 7:24 a.m. ] : breakfast run, buckaroo!!!! u want anything? if jonah doesn’t txt me back in 10 min i’m bringing him burnt toast & a lemon wedge.

@juliansbennet

fmk the rest of the fourth years

"am i making this complicated on purpose? nah. but i’ve got opinions.”

fuck: 3some w/ hudson + teddy (texting them both after this, actually); zahra, only because we would tear each other apart if we got married; jonah, because he is tense as fuck; chandler, because i like their vibe + the whole affair with orson was kinda hot, not gonna lie.

marry: hmm, well harry, but then i’d divorce her so she & mads can be endgame; mads, but then she’d divorce me so she & harry can be endgame; lexie, because she kinda scares me and i like that; helen, even though we’d probably be better as besties; julian, because duh, who wouldn’t marry julian?

kill: well grace, but only in self-defense (even though we all know it’s coming); mathias, because no one should be allowed to be that pretty and that self-centered. it’s unfair.

+

k(iss) on the forehead, because he’s my lil’ bean: jason.

Send 📱 To Find Out About My Muse's Phone

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:

the most honest day(s) of them all! 

let’s get weird.

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.”

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.”