❝ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ 𝓯𝓸𝓸𝓵,

the mood feels weird to jason. even as someone who’s normally adaptable in most situations, he can’t help but feel a little uneasy. and he can’t quite put his finger on it. he figures it was because of nate’s mood shift, that’s what’s putting him off. hes’ so used to seeing his brother crack jokes and be the life of the party, but this mood on him was seldom something jason saw. he wonders if it’s a mood that nate keeps hidden from others, kind of like how jason keeps parts of himself hidden to certain people. jason tries to focus on the lake, rather than how creepy everything is. he remembers his therapist telling him focusing on one thing can help alleviate anxiety. he’s not sure if it’s working or not. he hears what nate says. so he settles on: not. 

“i only told them stuff i thought was relevant to the case. i mostly told them that i didn’t think anyone here is capable of something like that but they kind of pressed me so i did say someone’s name but it was more like just a theory, you know?” a couple moments pass before what nate had said really sunk in for jason. he was mostly talking about the police investigation and didn’t even register that nate had said he was trying to keep the cops from suspecting jason. “wait…why would you want to keep them from looking in my direction?” he gulps. because deep down, he knows the answer. but he can’t tell nate what happened that night. how he laughed in the face of orson as he bled out, how he liked seeing him suffer. the guilt of his actions and of keeping this from nate have been heavy on jason, but not as heavy as knowing that his brother would never look at him the same again. “nate, i…don’t know what you’re talking about.” his voice was unconvincing to even an ordinary person, so it certainly wouldn’t be enough to convince his brother. but he couldn’t, he couldn’t let nate see that side of him. the side that got lost in the shadows and became the darkness within them. 

.

nate winces at jason’s words. for so long, he had tried to be the best brother - or at least, the best brother he knew how to be. in their household, nate had learned specific lessons about patience, kindness, and empathy. all of which he never had to really use with jason, because things had been easy for them for a long time. now in hindsight, while trying to analyze his brother, nate felt that familiar pang of guilt he always managed to push down. had things only been easy because nate didn’t try to work on their relationship? how much was there that they hadn’t talked about, simply because they didn’t think it was necessary? had nate pushed jason away, somehow? the answers to those questions were hard to think about. 

but he couldn’t let jason shut down on him this time; the stakes were too high. “who’s name did you say? is that so much of a secret you can’t even tell me?” nate looks out past jason, out towards the rest of the campus through the thick of the trees. he thinks about the police, about the investigation, about orson’s body and - “jason...i love you, okay? i’d gladly give you a kidney, a lung, a part of my pancreas - if they were healthy, that is.” nate steps closer to him, “my point is that i’d do just about anything for you. but i need you to trust me.” nate knows he’s handled jason with kid gloves practically their whole life, so this feels especially weird for them, but he has to see this through. no matter what the answer might turn out to be.

“tell me the truth”, nate signs with a mixture of nostalgia for their ‘secret’ language as kids and fear of what jason might actually reveal to him. “did you kill o-r-s-o-n?”

“oh,” chandler uttered, taken aback by his request. it was so much…simpler than she had imagined. she burst into laughter as she heard his cackle, impressed with his commitment to his characterization, even if it was an unorthodox one. “good, very good,” she laughed, nodding her head as she slid into the seat across from him after deciding it was safe enough to do so. “ah, the old de niro method,” she chuckled, unsure how serious nate was about losing his mind - ideally, not very, but with nate, you never really knew.  

chandler took a sip of her coffee as she readied herself to answer nate’s question, “mhm, yeah, i’m really excited, actually. i’ve never played a woman on stage before, and i mean, it can’t be that different, but…” she trailed off, thinking of what josie said earlier. maybe chandler wasn’t cut out for the role of lady macbeth – macduff or king duncan would have been a far easier choice, and likely the role orson would have given her. “i guess i am kind of nervous,” she mumbled as she ran a hand through her hair, letting out a sigh, “but lady macbeth is a complex character, so it’ll at least be fun. hopefully no descent into madness, though.” 

.

nate smiles back at chandler, and for a moment, it’s easy to ignore the weird feeling he gets while talking to her. “i hate to break it to you, but playing the lady of the hour almost guarantees some sort of descent into madness will be happening. i hope you’re strapped in for a wild ride of rehearsals,” he laughs. nate realizes that this very brief conversation might be the longest they’ve had in a while; especially since everything went to shit last semester. would it be weird to ask her how she was doing? if she was having nightmares? if she was a little freaked out the events from the winter masque just like he was? a little heavy for small talk around the lunch table, maybe. but while he thinks of more small talk, he studies chandler for a second and can’t help but see orson. it was hard not to, as much as nate wanted to admit otherwise. 

“you’re totally gonna kill it, chandler. i hope you don’t let some of our idiotic classmates get to you. personally, i love that shit’s changed around here. feels lighter.” nate has a second thought on that comment, so he quickly adds before picking up his tea: “in like, the social dynamics of our class, i mean.”

DATE & TIME: around twilight….u know for the Ambiance LOCATION:Outside the FAB AVAILABILITY: Taken @aldysfool​

Jonah hated rehearsals with everything in him this semester. Hated being relegated to the background, hated watching other people twirl through the spotlight, hated that he would never again feel the golden hue grace his face at Alderidge. He’d snuck out early for a smoke, knowing that he wouldn’t be in anymore scenes, but he turned, surprised, when he heard the doors of the FAB swing open behind him, feeling a certain awkwardness when he realized it was Nate coming out to break his solitude. Because living with Nate, he could avoid him easily, had mastered the art of hiding in plain sight from both of his roommates, but out here, in the open, he couldn’t avoid him… and he was even more surprised to find he didn’t want to.

There was a surprising amount of discomfort when his desire to stay brushed up against his instinct to run, and it made Jonah irritable when he didn’t want to be. He caught himself, thankfully, before he lashed out and said something he didn’t mean, but he did say, brusquely, without looking at Nate, “I hope you didn’t come out here because of me. I was fine before, and I’ll keep being fine after you’re gone, so… there’s no need to check on me. And if you didn’t follow me out here, well, great, but there’s plenty of space that you can occupy that’s not also in my space. So.”

.

rehearsal nate is a different kind of nate; less partying, less recreational drug usage, less deviant behavior. except on the weekends. and yeah, macbeth is fun and he’s actually not hating rehearsal. even being onstage with grace isn’t the total soul sucker it used to be when orson was around. heidi felt different as a director, and nate appreciated her willingness to play along with his antics — to some degree, at least. there came a point in rehearsal when he wouldn’t be needed for a while, and while nate normally loved to sit in the back of the rehearsal space and doodle in his script while watching his fellow thespians work on stage, his phone buzzes and he doesn’t even look at it to know what time it is. he grabs his backpack and heads towards the doors. 

when he opens them and sees jonah, nate smiles for only a moment before it’s replaced by a raised eyebrow. the moodiness on this one. nate rolls his eyes, “somebody’s in a good mood. ...anyway, you don’t own the sidewalk and secretly we both know you enjoy my company, so there’s that. now if you’ll excuse me,” he looks around, “i have a date.” the lights around the FAB aren’t bright enough to completely illuminate the surrounding grounds, but nate is sure that he’ll find what he’s looking for if he stands here long enough. 

“quick, random question: you allergic to small, furry animals?”

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.” 

hudson wished things weren’t weird between the two, but he couldn’t help it. it was his fault after all, not nate’s. hudson knew he really had no right to be distant considering he and zahra had pretty much the same sort of set up nate and teddy had, but…well, he was jealous, okay? he was, even if he would never admit it to anyone else. most days he wouldn’t even admit it to himself. and then there was the fact that hudson and jason hated one another; that certainly kept the two from being close. it was hudson’s fault that he and nate weren’t friends anymore, and as much as he wanted to fix that…he wasn’t sure he could. 

laughing awkwardly, hudson set the rest of the books in his hands down. “thank you. and congrats to you, being a witch sounds awesome.” that would certainly be a fun role, and he had no doubt nate would crush it. that was the sort of role he was born for, honestly. “uh, sort of. julian and i went out to get drinks. that’s really it, though,” hudson said, leaning against the bookshelf. this was probably the longest conversation they’d had in months, and it was going…not terrible? that had to count for something, right?

.

.

holy shit, this was probably the longest conversation they’d had in months, and it wasn’t crashing and burning. nate didn’t know what to do with himself. a part of him wanted to skip over the small talk and get straight to the elephant in the room, but he also wasn’t entirely stupid and he knew that his recent hooking up with teddy definitely had something to do with it. did hudson think nate was taking advantage of his best friend, or something? either way, he didn’t feel like explaining himself. or didn’t seem a reason to explain anything, actually. but what if hudson felt weird because of jason? suddenly nate wondered if he should even be trying to salvage what bit of friendship they might’ve still had. he was definitely overthinking this, right? 

“oh, nice - where to? the anchor? teddy and i were just there...!” truthfully, the words came out before he even knew what he was saying. nate’s gaze falls down to the table as he peels back the hard cover of a book that’s thick and smells like it hasn’t been opened in at least a decade. “so, uh...i’m doing some creepy dramaturgical work on witches and rituals. what brings you in here? shit, don’t tell me we have a text study paper due.”

date & time: after rehearsals/whenever mads’ half bday is (i can’t do math) location: the castle (kitchen) availability: closed @aldysfool​​

“this was sweet of you to do,” julian said as he whisked together the dry ingredients, knowing his best friend could use a pick-me-up since the detectives released their statement. despite only becoming friends the start of their third year, he couldn’t imagine a future without mads in it. after all, he was already looking at apartments for their post-graduation plans. “i just hope nobody tries to kill the mood,” he added, unable to maintain his usual pep. he firmly believed none of them were killers, but he started to wonder if his peers knew more than they were letting on.

the countertops in the kitchen looked a complete mess, and they had only been in the kitchen for less than half an hour — nate had spilled a cup of sugar, dropped two eggs, broken a saucer, and now something was sticky under his shoe. he was just trying to make a sheet birthday cake. while baking was always a chaotic experience, nate loved every second of it, and glad that julian agreed to help him this time around. after measuring a tablespoon of vanilla, nate whisks the wet ingredients. “well, i kinda spread the word that i’d put a hex on people if they came in here while we were working, so maybe somebody will take me seriously for once.” nate plugs in the hand mixer and slides it over to julian. “but then again, someone’s an actual killer around here, so i wouldn’t be surprised. ...speaking of which,” nate pauses the hand whisking because fuck he should’ve just gone with the cheesecake factory gift card and been done with it. mads’ half-birthday had already passed anyway, but something about birthdays always cheered nate up — and honestly, he was sort of freaked about where they would all be in just a few months. nate leans over in a low, half-joking tone, “if it comes down to it, i’ve got a hundred on mads’ bail money.” 

Matching his smile with one of her own, Helen laughs gently. “Hell, for sure. I have a feeling that Abigail Williams would have fit snugly in one of Shakespeare’s plays.” Probably played by Zahra. If Orson had his way. If Heidi was casting - who knew? The uncertainty of Alderidge, which had always been such a constant, made her anxious. Nudging gently into him, she nodded in thanks. “I don’t deserve you.”  She wasn’t sure any of them deserved Nate. Had she followed that thought through to its completion, she might have felt guilt that they were the one forced to witness her witchcraft…but as it was, she dropped it; distracted by the mention of Jonah. “No?” Puzzled, she knotted her eyebrows. “Did he…did he do something?”

it was one thing to banter with helen about heidi or the play, but then just like that, nate decides to switch up the conversation on her - a part of him wondered if it was the right time. but when would this opportunity come up again? he raises an eyebrow for a moment at helen’s response  - did jonah do something? well, damn. it’s not like it’s any of his business, but in nate’s experience, that kind of question only came from someone who, even in the slightest way, had already assumed he was guilty. it was a nicer way of saying ‘what did you do?’ and - shit, now he’s definitely reading too much into it. nate shakes his head, “nah, he didn’t do anything. it’s just the week of auditions he had a really...rough morning, and i might’ve cried and tried stuffing his face with waffles, and i was just curious if you had heard from him. that’s all.” nate shrugs and then tries to offer helen another smile to diffuse any of her worries. “even though we live together, i feel like we’ve been like two ships passing in the night.”

“badass is one word for it,” harry grins. she just can’t get used to the idea that half the school, maybe more, considers all of them to be murderers. as hilarious as it would be to watch josie throw a tantrum and get kicked out of the show, as nate suggested, everyone’s usual antics feel rather tainted by that fact. harry doesn’t know how nate does it, putting on a joking front like this when he was the one to find orson laying there, bled-out and lifeless. he’s got to be a far better actor than her, just for that. “hopefully she’s just really into the irony of it, and not playing some kind of sick joke on us. that would put a serious damper the inevitable rehearsal storm-outs from… josie, you said? my money’s on mathias first.”

nate laughs as he considers the idea that heidi would be capable of putting the fourth years through a psychological thriller like macbeth only to get them busted for actual murder when it was all said and done. “nah, heidi doesn’t seem like the type to put that much effort into a long, convoluted plan like that. ...oh shit, unless she was orson’s other lover and this is her revenge....! dun dun dun!” nate laughs and shakes his head, trying his best to keep a light disposition about the possibility of what any of them could be facing. was there any other choice? after a moment, nate’s mind drifts back to the whole ‘co-conspirators’ angle, and he looks over at harry. he wonders about how much she knows, but more importantly, how much she’s willing to share. “but hey, you’re easily one of the smartest people in this bunch. ...i wanna know what you really think.” nate looks around to make sure no one else might be around, “it’s still wild to even say out loud, but there can’t be an actual murderer among us, right?”

nate was sure he was about to lose it. sure, when he had gotten pulled away for a moment to chat with the detectives some time ago, he had convinced himself that everything would be fine. but now, sitting at the edge of the lake, nate did not feel the same way. like suddenly with that statement, everything was that much more real and it scared him. but not just for his sake. jason. nate had called him earlier and told him they needed to meet, but didn’t say for what. he just knew it was about time they talked. about everything. with thoughts burning a hole in his head, nate glances back when he hears footsteps approaching. he throws another stone across the lake. it goes right in. “i swear i’m better at this. at least, i used to be.”

nate’s social media  — twitter

jason: aren't what?? nate you know i don't understand your memes i don't know what "yknow....👀" means

jason: i mean he's arrogant and i have to leave every time he rehearses because it gets under my skin but he's not /terrible/. unlike josephine.

jason: honestly, yeah i'm down. parents will be very disappointed in our sacrilege but whatever

nate: it's not a meme, GRANDPA! i was just trying to have some couth and double check that you & mathias aren't doing the horizontal tango? ....taking a trip to pound town? .......playin hide the sausage?

nate: fucking, jason

jason: thanks bro.

jason: i mean, he's not as bad as josephine or hudson and he seemed pretty upset about it the other day.

jason: but yeah you're right.

jason: what does getting spooky entail? but it's not like i have anything else planned so sure.

nate: not as /bad/? i love u, but clearly i've left you with matty for way too long. WAIT. ....ya'll aren't...? yknow....👀

nate: i mean no judgment, i just think u can do better

Matching Nate’s light tone with her own japes (or at least, passable attempt at a joke - humour was never something that came easily), Helen’s expression wrinkled into an easy smile. “All those heretical dances in the woods? Or is that too The Crucible for Shakespeare?” She thought about telling him how the notion of running away felt appealing to her sometimes too - how dancing barefoot under moonlight felt like solace. Was it fear or bravery that kept her anchored? “Me…neither. I hope Heidi knows what she’s doing - I’m not sure she does…maybe I should offer to swap with someone? Like Jonah?”

.

nate laughs and makes a mental note about asking heidi her particular thoughts concerning the witches. suddenly, the idea of dancing barefoot onstage along with saffi and grace is hilarious, and he definitely wants it to happen. “oh please, i’m sure willy would’ve loved the crucible. fear, lies, hysteria, and witchcraft are the exact words i’d use to describe the scottish play, y’know? a match made in...purgatory? hell?” nate shakes his head at her response, “helen, it’s literally going to be fine. try not to worry so much about it. i’ll keep you entertained from the wings when you’re onstage, or whatever, until you’re comfortable. it’s our last show. we’ve gotta give it our best shot.” nate smiles at her, but hearing jonah’s name makes him a little anxious, so he backs up for as second. 

“but uh, speaking of jonah....have you talked to him lately?”

hudson’s first love in life was reading. it was his safe haven, the thing he turned to when the rest of the world didn’t make any sense to him. books were an escape - and right now, that’s just what he needed. he was thrilled to be macbeth, of course, but he was still a bit stuck in his own head over jonah’s words. he knew he needed to let them go; they were the petty words of a jealous asshole who just wanted to make him miserable. and by being upset, hudson was letting jonah win. still, he needed some time to clear his head, and the best place to do that was the library. as he entered the room, he paused as books began falling all around nate. “shit,” he murmured, leaping to action and picking a few up off the ground. “you sure? that looked pretty rough.” hudson winced, putting a book back on the shelf. he wasn’t entirely sure how to act around nate these days; things were a bit strained. 

.

nate hears hudson before he sees him, and in this moment, he kinda wishes it was someone else who was there to witness his clumsiness. there were no hard feelings on nate’s part when it came to hudson, but yeah, they hadn’t been the closest of friends in a while. and for once, nate didn’t want to be the one to bring it up. instead, he did what he was always good at, which was redirecting. “seriously, i’m fine. but for you,” nate stands up to curtsy in hudson’s direction, “hail to thee, thane of glamis. a congratulations are in order.” nate puts the rest of the books back except for one and offers his most genuine smile, “you’re gonna kill it, obviously.” nate moves to a nearby table where he’s set up, a small stack of books already there, each focused on the supernatural world. nate glances at hudson. “have you had a chance to celebrate yet?” as long as they kept the conversation light, this would be easy. right? 

Jonah’s eyes flickered to Nate, and he looked at his roommate, really looked at his roommate, for what felt like the first time. When he thought of Nate, he thought of lightness and air, of loud bravado and effortless friendliness. He almost wanted to fight Nate, wanted to argue with him and insist, no, you’ve never felt like this, no, there’s no way you know what this is like, and yet, he found himself believing Nate completely, without a shadow of a doubt.

It was… surprising, to say the least. That perhaps the feeling in his chest, of waves threatening to overwhelm him, of that not-so-gentle hum of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, maybe he didn’t have to explain them to Nate. Maybe Nate knew already.

“How do you… let them?” he asked, quiet, sincere. Because this, this was the hardest part for him. Somehow, he’d managed to convince two people, Helen and Harry, that he wasn’t just this shitty black hole that consumed and consumed and never gave anything back, and they were there. They wanted to help, and Jonah could not, for the life of him, figure out how to let them.

He wanted to be saved. He wanted to be saved so badly it was killing him. And then, the words were leaving his lips before he could stop them, pure terror infused into every breath, because this was his greatest fear, and he didn’t know why he was asking Nate, didn’t know how he’d allowed himself to trust in less than thirty seconds, but here he was, spilling over and spilling out, and god he just hoped Nate would understand. “What if I let them… what if they try to save me and they can’t? What if every good thing about me has rotted away and when they try to peel back all the bad and find what’s left, there’s just… nothing? What then?”

Jonah had lost his appetite completely, the banana set aside and forgotten. There was no humor that was going to penetrate this, now that Nate had dredged it all up to the surface, like pulling some great shipwreck up from the bottom of the ocean. He was the wreck, and he was somehow also the storm.

“Don’t give me the same bullshit everyone else does,” he said sharply. “The whole everyone can be saved, nobody is too broken crap. Because there are people who are just… born wrong. There are people where no matter how hard you try to be good, it doesn’t take. What are those people supposed to do?” What am I supposed to do?

.

nate hears jonah, and he can’t help but hear the voice of someone who’s clearly wrestling with a lot of heartache and unresolved trauma. while nate’s first instinct is to make jokes or run away from most (emotional) situations, he chooses to sit in it this time. and it’s hard, because it reminds him of some dark places he pulled himself out from. places he wanted to forget about. nate tries to remember that there isn’t any shame in that  — in fact, there’s a pride he can take in looking back at all the things he’s been through. what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and all that cheesy shit.

but nate doesn’t say any of that, because again, jonah isn’t in the space to hear it; in this moment when his roommate is being his most vulnerable, nate wants to help him however he can. not because it’s a good thing to do. because he wants to. even if it might not be what jonah wants to hear.

“now, you’re smart enough to know that life isn’t that cut and dry. it’d be boring if it was. there isn’t just good and bad in the world — this shit is complicated and messy and...sometimes it doesn’t feel like it’s worth the trouble.” nate moves to sit at the edge of jonah’s bed and faces him. it was time they got on the same level. “but let’s say you’re right. let’s say...there are some people who are born wrong and have no chance of being ‘saved’, whatever that means. why, then, consider the possibility of opening yourself up to being rescued? that’s some self-fulfilling prophecy bullshit that i don’t agree with. holding the people you love to unrealistic expectations is the quickest way to fuck things for them and for yourself. but if you were honest, you’d admit that you don’t want to push them out. because you hope, at some point, that their kindness will rub off on you.” 

nate sighs, because he realizes he’s gone deeper than he’d like on a post-breakfast conversation, but it’s too late to turn back now. at least they’re talking. “jonah, i’ve been where you are. hell, depending on the day, i’ve been a skip away from spending all day in the bed myself. but expecting to be ‘saved’ is not the answer. you know who needs saving? kittens in trees. princesses in fairy tales. babies, like literally all the time.” nate leans forward as if he’s telling jonah as secret.

“unfortunately, you and i are none of those things. there is no saving us, because life just doesn’t happen to us. we have the means to change things, to work towards something different for ourselves. and guess what? sometimes, we gotta get down and just fight for it. so do yourself a favor, do those people who love you a favor, and fucking fight for y-ourself, man.” his voice cracks for a second, but he doesn’t care.

it’s then that nate realizes his eyes are wet. he wipes them dry with the back of his hands. 

“....shit.”

chandler walked into the refectory, copy of macbeth in tow, in search of a cup of coffee. their first read-through was coming up soon and she had to make positive she was prepared. eyes would be on her, and many of her peers could smell fear and insecurity, and wouldn’t hesitate to capitalize on it. grabbing her coffee, she headed for a table near the window to read in peace, when she noticed someone was trying to get her attention. “oh, hello,” she said coolly, smiling a bit when he called her ‘lady ‘beth,’ reminding her of her latest success, “congratulations, by the way, i can’t wait to see you as a witch. i’m sure you’ll make it your own!” looking around the refectory as if expecting heidi to come and scold her for not spending every waking moment poring over the play, she turned her attention back to nate, “sure, nate,” she said hesitantly, sitting across from him with her cup of coffee. chandler was preparing for the worst; though nate was mostly harmless, he had a tendency to say whatever was on his mind, regardless of how it would be received. which is quite admirable, in a sense, but often got on chandler’s nerves, especially in moments when she was particularly vulnerable and emotional. still, he had a good sense of humor, and chandler appreciated about seventy percent of the things that came out of his mouth. “what is it?”

to be honest, nate hadn’t had much personal interaction with chandler. he knew her well enough to understand that she had obviously been through some shit these past couple of months, probably tenfold since she actually still, uh, cared - or cares - about orson. nate had thought about reaching out, but he didn’t know if that would’ve just been weird or if chandler wanted to even be around him. but there she was, sitting down at the table. and now nate didn’t know if he’d have the nerve to say what had originally been on his mind. he stalls for half a moment, hopefully not long enough to notice. “...i just wanted to get your quick opinion on something, actually. take a listen.” he lets out his best cackle, trying to embody the crones and hags of generations before. it’s loud, but just when other students start to turn and look their way, nate stops. he grins, “not bad for an amateur try, huh? it’s all part of my plan to slowly submerge myself in the role until i’ve lost my mind and i don’t know who am i anymore. ugh, can’t wait.”