GOLDEN AGE

If Sebastian could see Julian right now, the instructor would be disappointed. If picking fights with his peers wasn’t enough a offense, he was also about to start sparring after pulling an all-nighter. Having spent the previous hours doing research into mobile security and tor browsers, he would say he came to this meeting prepared even if he could feel fatigue coming for him.

Obviously, neither he or Zahra could pretend things were normal between them, but he familiarity of their usual spot provided the strength he needed. How many memories and bruises had been born here? Entitlement flourished at Alderidge, people who felt like they were owed praise simply because of their last names. That was the thing about him and Zahra, they pushed and motivated each other to never settle for less. They fought for where they were now, they rightfully earned the respect (or fear depending on who you ask).

“And risk you returning the favor?” he said in the middle of doing his stretches. Despite his vague text message, she had understood the message which brought a small sense of relief to him. At least that hadn’t changed.

♡

Would he have still kept quiet about the notebook if Zahra hadn’t found the phone? Zahra would’ve liked to think that he would have, regardless. It would’ve been nice if she could be the kind of person who trusted him that much. But she’d searched Julian’s dorm for a reason, sought out leverage because she needed a safety net stronger than faith.

Zahra watched him carefully, taking him in. It was... nice, to see him in such a familiar setting. She could almost pretend that they were wide-eyed second-years again, discovering more about each other with each match. Before bloodshed and stolen artifacts got in the way of everything. This room was once their self-made sanctuary, and it still held some comforting magic despite all that had changed in the world outside.

“You look like shit.” To anyone else, anyone who hadn’t spent the past two years practicing in close proximity to him, Julian would’ve appeared just as sharp as ever. But Zahra knows what Julian is like when he’s at the top of his game, and this was not it. “You need a nap before we get started?”

It was hard to feel guilty about naming Mads (and Josephine, and Mathias...) when Zahra’s own ass was on the line. If taking the heat off of her meant placing on someone else, then fine, that’s what she had to do. And besides, it’s not as if Zahra lied told any lies about Mads. It was out of Zahra’s hand if the detectives thought that her expulsion made her a person of interest.

Maybe if Zahra continued telling herself all of that, she’d eventually believe it.

“Hey, killer.” The younger students at the table nearby didn’t stop gawking even as Zahra shot them a withering glare. Seemed like the theatre students’ infamy wasn’t going to die down any time soon. Dropping names in the police report definitely didn’t help. “Can I buy you a drink?” It was the least she could do, after all. “You can give me a peek at that oh-so-exclusive POI group chat in return.”

“We need to have a little chat.” Zahra sits down right on top of the desk Helen was occupying, commanding all of her attention. Out of all the people Zahra expected to screw her over, Helen was at the very bottom of the list. Thanks to Helen’s “slip-up” with the detectives, there was a chance that the police could discover that Zahra had lied about where she had been the night of Orson’s death. There was no way she was going to let that happen — this was the one time the spotlight couldn’t be on her. “What exactly did you say to the detectives? Because they clearly got two different versions of that night from us.” Because unlike Helen, Zahra actually stuck with the version they all agreed to tell.

The Macbeth script in front of her is covered in blocking notes and highlighter, but Zahra struggles to focus on any of it. Because they know. The cops know about the after-party at Orson’s, and soon they’ll figure out that Zahra lied about where she was that night. Some would call it karmic retribution for throwing her colleagues under the bus, but Zahra was now only more motivated to do whatever she had to do in order to save herself.

Usually Jonah’s presence sparked all the wrong wires. But his arrival in the Castle was, surprisingly, a welcome distraction. The glorious thought of him getting his ass served by Julian managed to get her mind off of everything else. “You really going to go head-to-head with Julian?” she projecting more mirth in her voice than she actually had. “Any chance I can get a front row seat to the show?”

[ julian: meet me at hq ]

Ominous, yet somehow endearingly dorky. Julian’s signature quirks did little to ease the way her stomach flip-flopped as she made her way to the practice room. Zahra wasn’t too eager to see him again after their last... illuminating encounter. How was it that they revealed so much about each other, yet Zahra was still uncertain about where they stood? They didn’t rat each other out to the detectives when given the chance, a fact that made Zahra feel secure and unsteady all at once.

Julian was already in their usual practice room when she arrived with her cheeks flushed red by the bitter cold. Zahra dumped her worn out winter jacket on the floor, revealing the exercise leggings and workout tank that’d been hiding underneath it. She was never unprepared for a challenge, or whatever Julian had up his sleeve. “I supposed I should thank you for not ratting me out to the detectives,” she says in lieu of a greeting. She doesn’t mention how she’s the one who turned the detectives in Mads’s direction, and how she feels less guilty about it knowing that they’re both in the clear. For now.

ZAHRA: stop giving chandler shit about orson.

ZAHRA: & now that that's out of the way

ZAHRA: i've got an hour free before rehearsal tomorrow, do you mind going over scenes with me?

“Mathias and Josephine are so full of shit,” Zahra spat as she scrolled through the group chat. The fucking audacity of trying to shame Chandler when they were the ones who were being shady as hell. “Don’t stress over what they’re saying about you — they’re just trying to cover their own asses.” And it was all thanks to Zahra, who had no qualms about throwing the two of them under the bus if it meant throwing suspicion off of her own misdeeds. Seeing the way they attacked Chandler made her lose whatever leftover guilt she may have had about bringing their names up to the detectives.

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗: a couple days after the cast list was announced, probs. 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎: the refectory. 𝚠𝚑𝚘: @zahramalik​.

teddy makes his way over to their usual table at the back of the refectory. he is starving after a long day of classes and rehearsals. it’s nice to be able to just focus on being a normal university student. at last, he doesn’t feel like he has to worry about anyone finding out his little secret. the calm before the storm. probably.

the pasta on his plate is making his mouth water as he takes a seat right across from zahra. teddy feels like they’re spending much more time together lately. their semester as costars, her relationship with hudson. not that he minds having her around. teddy likes zahra, and he would probably like her a lot better if she wasn’t sleeping with the guy teddy was in love with.

“bon appetite,” he tells her with a little smile as a way of greeting. and then he adds, “congratulations on banquo, it’s might not be the lead, but it’s still a great role, and a damn good warrior.”

.

The chicken on Zahra’s plate, which had been carefully prepared by the Refectory cooks, has been shredded to oblivion and smothered in hot sauce. Just the way she likes it. It looks absolutely revolting at first glance and there’s not much nuance in the flavors, but it’s not unlike the makeshift dinners she made for her sister growing up. Even Zahra’s soft enough to give into nostalgia now and then, though her peers would probably think she just had unrefined tastes. 

Teddy’s greeting prompts her to raise her fork in response before taking a bite of her dinner. “Thanks,” she said, talking while chewing her food but having the decency to cover her mouth with her hand. “You’re right, it’s not the lead, but I’m happy with how everything turned out. Hudson is going to be a great Macbeth. I don’t care what anyone says, Heidi actually has taste. I’m sure Jonah and Mads will have fun murdering me.” 

A couple of third-year philosophy students at the table beside them shot her a dirty look, clearly having overheard the joke. And Zahra was cruelly reminded that a good percentage of the school still hadn’t forgotten what went down at the the Winter Masque. It was ridiculous, how a bunch of overdramatic saboteurs could so easily sway people’s opinion, when it wasn’t even true. Zahra glanced away at them and refocused her attention on Teddy. “How do you feel about Malcolm?” she asked, curious about his answer and prepared for some sad lamenting on Teddy’s part. After all, Malcolm was a long fall from a leading role like Troilus. But Zahra knew that Teddy was never destined for another lead role, anyway. Not that he would’ve known that.

After waking up nursing a serious headache from her post-cast list drinks with Jonah the night before, Harry decided to limit herself to just one beer tonight. When the bartender mentioned it had been paid for, Harry looked over with pleasant surprise, expecting Mads — and found herself met instead with one of the last people she ever wanted buying her a drink. Her patience was incredibly thin, tonight; she didn’t want to give Zahra the satisfaction of knowing she was jealous, but that wasn’t going to stop her from letting the girl know what she thought. “Does this work for you? The passive aggressive, backhanded bullshit? Make you a lot of friends?”

No good deed... Zahra sighed, disappointed at how predictable Harry was, though it was to be expected after Zahra goaded her first. Zahra was almost half-tempted to reply with her own clichéd retort: ‘I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to win.’ And she’d won, hadn’t she? There were no more roles for her to compete against Harry for now that Zahra cinched Banquo. Harry was no longer a threat, so what did that make her now? “I get by,” Zahra said simply, and clinked her glass to Harry’s. “I’m not trying to be your friend.” Yeah, no shit. “But I also have no reason to be a bitch to you anymore. I know a drink isn’t going to make up for nearly four years of animosity, but... Well, I’m willing to move past it if you are.”

class today had been difficult, to say the least. hudson hadn’t slept much - jonah’s texts had been on his mind for most of the night, making him toss and turn. on one hand, he was pissed off. how fucking dare jonah say that shit? how dare he make hudson doubt his own abilities? heidi must have seen something in him; she wouldn’t have given macbeth to him otherwise. plus, orson had intended for him to be the lead this semester too. hudson had earned the role twice, in a way. 

but…well, a part of him felt like maybe jonah was right. after all, all of the things he said were things hudson was already insecure about. he knew he lacked mathias’ charm, teddy’s looks, and jonah’s…well, not wit. but still. the biggest thing hudson had going for him was his dedication. his work ethic surpassed all three of them. he just wasn’t sure that that was enough. 

as he entered the common room, he was surprised by zahra hugging him. zahra. how had he forgotten zahra? she had wanted macbeth. was she really okay with him getting it over her? “thanks,” hudson replied, stiffly wrapping his arms around her. did he really deserve this, though? “congrats on banquo, you’re going to be amazing.” he told her honestly, pulling away to offer her a small smile. 

Something was... off. Zahra immediately chalked the slightly awkward greeting up to him being caught by surprised. After all, it’s not as if she regularly played the role of “cheerleader.” But shouldn’t he have been more enthusiastic about her support, or at least relieved? After all, a lesser actor would have been bitter about the outcome. 

Zahra pulled away slightly to properly look at him. “I’m glad we both got what we wanted,” she said confidently, wanting to erase any doubt he might’ve had that she was less than satisfied with their roles. Of course Zahra wanted the lead, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t glad that it was Hudson’s. Orson’s will somehow outlived him, and the fact that two completely different directors saw Hudson as the lead meant that he truly deserved the role. Not even Zahra could get in the way of that, even if she wanted to.

“If you’re worried that my feelings are hurt, don’t be,” she said with an encouraging smile. The last thing she wanted was for him to suppress his happiness around her. Zahra wanted all of him. “Not that I’m saying I want you to start acting like a diva, but you’re acting a lot more gracious than I would’ve been in your shoes. Or has it just not sunk in yet that you’re Macbeth?”

helen: thanks zahra! 😘😘😘 i'm literally so shocked!!

helen: but omg BIG CONGRATS TO YOU!!! 🥳🥳🥳 you're gonna kill it!

helen: get the pun? because banquo dies? ☠️☠️☠️

zahra: ❤️

zahra: you're very clever, it's adorable

Julian had long since forgotten his initial shame for his work study, but allowing Zahra to believe they were the same was easier than letting her know the truth. Would she think less of him if she knew? Or would she still claim to understand? “For what it’s worth, I never thought you would tell anyone,” he confessed, an admission of his former trust in her. Things with his sparring partner was more often than not unspoken, because she was one of the people he was most comfortable around. Even in beginning before they talked, he had found comfort in the familiarity he saw in her. With Zahra, Julian didn’t feel like he needed to fill up space to prove himself.

He listened to her explanation, studying her face for any indications she was lying. Not knowing how much he could trust her anymore sucked, but what hurt most was the realization that their predicament was exactly what Orson wanted. “Well, it looks like we’re in the same boat,” he commented cheekily,  a subtle reminder her leverage meant nothing more than mutually assured destruction for them both. If only he could laugh at the situation at hand, because of course Zahra would have the notebook, the very item he needed to crack the cellphone. “I took a photo of the notebook in your room. Do what you will with that information,” he shared. At the time, he had taken a picture to confirm his suspicions later. Orson had particular taste, which no doubt included stationary.

When it was his turn to tell his story, he glanced at the phone in her hands, his  personal reminder of that night. “I want you to know I can understand why you did this so I don’t blame you,” he started. He could forgive, but he would never forget. It had always been easy to understand her, he thought. Sometimes too easy, almost like that’s what she wanted from him. Yet, a part of him hoped that wasn’t true. “Remember how I was late for the cast party last semester? I was cleaning The Castle and that was where I found his phone. I didn’t think much of it then, but I guess he left it here after seeing Chandler - ew. When I arrived at the party, we started doing shots so I forgot about the phone in my pocket. Giving Orson back his phone didn’t seem like a big deal, because I thought I could just give it to him later, you know?” Now, the real challenge approached - why? Why did he still have the phone? “Then he died, and I had to think about how it would look from the police’s perspective. I found his phone the night he was murdered and forgot about it till I was doing laundry a week later? Who would believe that? Now, I’m stuck with it until I can think of how to get rid of it. Even turning it on might risk alerting the police.”

I never thought you would tell anyone. Did he intend to hurt her this much? It was surprising how much that admission meant to her, whether it was true or not. She wanted it to be the truth, wanted to believe that Julian still thought of her as someone worth trusting even after discovering something so unseemly about her. It’d be something for her to hold onto, proof that he saw something good in her before she showed him how wrong he was. Maybe she ruined it all, maybe they could never go back to how they were before, but at least she had those seven words.

One thing that hadn’t changed: Julian was forever a worthy opponent. Taking a photo of the notebook complicated things further. Even if Zahra finally decided to get rid of it, there’d still be tangible proof that it existed at all, and that it was located in the Castle after Orson’s death. Fuck. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t believe you, but I do.” Julian’s story complicated things, too. Just like hers, it’s too convenient — how he just happened upon one of Orson’s possessions right before the director died. And like Zahra, Julian’s had time to come up with a story to cover her tracks. Zahra has no reason to believe him any more than he does with her. But Zahra still believes him, because this was Julian. The man who saw her skill when everyone else saw her pretty face. Even now, as she held the weapon of his demise in her hands, he still said I can understand why you did this. 

It truly would be a tragedy to have him out of her life. Zahra decided then that she’d rather have him as her adversary than not have him at all. But he said, I don’t blame you. Did that mean they didn’t have to be enemies? Zahra wouldn’t allow herself to get her hopes up, but that didn’t stop her traitorous heart from pounding furiously. 

“So you haven’t even turned it on?” That’s what she should be focusing on, instead of her own foolish desires to stay friends. As if it were even possible, right? “You’ve had it this whole time and you didn’t even check to see what’s on it? You have some self-control — I wouldn’t have been able to resist.” Her finger hovers over the power button, but she doesn’t press it. Did Julian even know that Orson wrote every single one of his passwords down in his notebook? Did he discover that while tucking in her sheets? Or was he completely in the dark to Orson’s secrets, while Zahra only knew a fraction of them? The rest of it had to be on the phone. "If you’re going to risk everything holding onto this, wouldn’t you want to know what you’ve got?” With that said, she drops the phone back on top of the suitcase and stands up to properly face Julian. “But that’s your problem to deal with, I guess. Because I won’t say anything about this if you won’t.”

Gaining his composure, Mathias waves a hand dismissively at the reminder that others were auditioning for his role. Of course they were. Every year, every play, several of his classmates went up against him for the leading role – some loud about it, some quiet and embarrassed. Either way, they never beat him for it, and he would love to say that that was the reason that he never seemed so bothered, but the truth is is that he knows how others act. He knows how he acts. It’s never been a competition if you always come first, right? “Everyone thinks they want to be Macbeth. He’s the play’s namesake.”

“You don’t think Orson let us audition for who we wanted?” Mathias throws back, a little demanding, a little defensive. He doesn’t understand the praise for Heidi and contempt for Orson these days, doesn’t understand the snide remarks from his classmates’ lips. “He just wanted what’s best for us. He put us in the roles that were best for us.” With a swig from his glass, he adds, “But I wish I was there for your audition. No one’s disputing your talent here, but I would’ve loved to see your Macbeth.”

“I don’t doubt that Orson put us in the roles he thought were best for us,” Zahra replies carefully, her words deliberate. That meaning, Orson was a prick who thought Zahra’s greatest asset was her looks and thought she was only suited for roles that relied on it. Not like Mathias would understand, when he only benefitted from Orson’s biases. But oh, how delicious it would be to reveal that Orson planned on giving Hudson the lead this semester. Such a shame that Orson only figured out what was best right before dying.

“Thanks, and right back at ‘cha. I’m sure your audition was nothing less than spectacular.” Thank the cruel God watching over her that Mathias was not present for her mess of an audition. The more Zahra remembered what a force Mathias was on stage, the less confident she felt about her chances. Still, her pride wouldn’t let her reveal any of those doubts to Mathias, who undoubtedly didn’t think of her as much of a threat. “Don’t worry, though, I think you’ll have plenty of chances to see me as Macbeth real soon,” she said lightly, with a smile that made it obvious she was only teasing.

nate: fuck yeahhh! hey congrats to YOU btw - how ya feel about banquo?

nate: lmao i mean, did i lie?????

nate: also, what do u think about macbeth as a crime noir? a 60s psychedelic trip? a pirate fantasy? cause i have FEELINGS

zahra: thank you ❤️ i'm really happy. it's not macbeth but it's still better than i would've expected tbh

zahra: i would've killed to be a fly on her wall when she read your text

zahra: sorry, is it still too soon to use that expression? fuck, i would've *loved to be a fly on her wall