Thespians

                                        

                                              
There is something humbling about waking up on the couch of your parents after visiting a man you once could not stand. Nathaniel felt older and a bit heavier; unsurprising since he’d broken the paradigm his world had once followed. And even though he was dreadfully hung over, he also felt strangely clear minded now.  He’d told Grace the truth, the absolute and complete truth, and even if he didn’t know where they would go from here, it had irrevocably broken the stalemate their relationship had gotten into.
                              
He still felt the sharp stab of guilt on his mind and in his heart, for both the betrayal he did towards his best friend and the role he had to play in the encroaching suicide of her aunt, but it felt good to have stated out loud how he felt for Grace. And it had also felt fantastic to tell Colby off. He wasn’t an all that bad a guy, at the end of things. A bit arrogant and condescending, but still decent and smart. Nate could only hope that the moron would be able to keep up with Ophelia and have the balls to make whatever was left of her life the best time of her life. 
                              
“Here, this should help with well….everything.” Malcolm stated and thrust a scalding hot coffee into Nate’s hands. Nate grunted at his father and sipped the molten lava, flinching at its painful heat. “Nathaniel… I don’t know what’s going on with you. I don’t know the things that are driving you to and it’s hard to let you live your life while I watch you self destruct like you are. But my father allowed me to learn my ways and earn my mistakes and I am trying to be as good a father to you.” Nathaniel’s dad started to say solemnly. “But no matter what it is you’re going through, you can tell me. You’ve heard all the horrible secrets from my past and your mother’s. We will love you no matter what it is you’ve done or think you can’t be forgiven for.” 
                              
Nate looked at his father and nodded. “I know dad. I really do. And I’m going to need that assurance in the future. But I’ve made a promise to someone and I just can’t talk about it yet.” Nathaniel would love to spill the truth out to his dad, someone who had done horrendous things and yet was a good man. But he knew he couldn’t. His father was as much Malcolm as he was Reaper now, and that could make him rather hard to predict. Malcolm might be appalled at Nate’s actions whereas Reaper would understand the pragmatics of the situation. So it was best to stay as silent on the matter as possible. Still tempting to share it though.
                              
Malcolm just gave Nathaniel a look though, as if he could understand so much more of what Nathaniel was thinking than Nate really wanted his father to know. “Alright then. Well, you get another five minutes of sympathy for your hang over before your mother comes home. I’m all for entertainment and hearing her scold you, but if you wanted to take off before she gets here, I’ll understand.” Malcolm warned. 
                              
Nate felt his eyes go big. No, he really didn’t want to hear his mom’s lecture right now. Not that she would be terrible, but he always hated the sense that he had disappointed her somehow, or even worse, that she was somehow laughing at his ‘rebellious’ nature. “No, I need to get some photos taken anyways. You know life or death kind of thing.” Nate blurted out and jumped to his feet, suddenly not caring that his brain was trying to broil inside his skull with the hangover. His father laughed as Nate bolted out the door, not at all realizing just how honest Nate was being. 
                              
He was planning on getting Ophelia to pose for a picture, an image in his head that he knew she needed to see for herself to understand. It wasn’t even something he could explain to most people, so that they could picture it too. He could only set up the moment and add the right muse to it and suddenly they would all realize the image in his head. Of course, getting Ophelia to agree to pose for this specific picture might be harder than splitting an atom with a butter knife, but Nate was up for a challenge. Hell, he needed one, something to keep his brain busy now that he had to wait for Grace to…do whatever it was she chose to do next. It could be forgiveness, but that seemed impossible to Nate. It was far more likely to be some kind of painful sundering of their lifelong friendship and he was more than a little terrified of that prospect.