Tragedy

Meeting Frank at the beach had been easier in former times. A few weeks ago, Nathan could've just driven to his car, giving him some stash and getting his weekly dope, but now, they needed to meet near the forest.

"Is the mutt gone?" Nathan asked, and Frank was giving him a vicious look. – "His name is Pompidou and it's not his fault that you've got a fucking allergy to dogs," he hissed, "… but yes, he's in my RV." Frank scrutinized Nathan for a second, and Nathan was glad that this dumbass believed him saying that he was allergic to dogs, when these animals actually freaked the shit out of him. As a little kid, Sean's coworker had visited once, bringing his huge German Sheppard who had almost attacked him. Since this day, Nathan couldn't stand these huge mutts.

"Man, you look like shit," Frank said, frowning, while his eyebrows formed a weird shape. Why did everybody have to emphasize that?! Nathan wanted to answer that Frank needed to look at himself in the mirror, since he was the one walking around like a junkie, but Nathan had already fucked up some deals that way. Frank clearly wasn't pleased to see him, but Nathan wasn't as well, so he liked to think of them as business partner, that's all. – Nathan gave him his stash, and Frank provided him with his stuff.

"I'm serious, Rott, you should go see a doctor or something, your eyes are bloodshot and you're pale as fuck," Frank said, scratching one of his neck tattoos. He was so disgusting, Nathan needed to try hard not to puke. How the fuck did he think that Rachel was really interested in him?

"Not that I care about you in person, but you're my client and I don't want anyone to think that I'm thinning down that crap. My stuff is absolutely clean and trustwo–"

"Whatthefuckever," Nathan said, fishing out some bills without looking, starting not to care anymore, "enough?"

Frank took the money, hesitated for a second, then he took out 50 bucks and gave it to him. "I'll take the rest. Peruvian flake, as requested." Nathan took the white powder that came in a tiny sack, wanting to put it in his jacket, when he realized that he had forgotten it in the Dark Room. He let the cocaine glide into his pants pocket, then he started walking off, when Frank suddenly said, "Hey Rott, you know what?"

Nathan turned around, and Frank grinned like an idiot. "Guess who I just talked to an hour ago," he said, and Nathan didn't have to think hard.

"That girl with the tatts and the blue hair, and her friend, how was her name …"

"Max."

"Oh, you know her," Frank smiled innocently, "ha, they play investigators, have been pretty sure about finding Rachel. They, uhm, they wanted my client list. … Can you imagine that? I don't think that, you know, they'll solve the case, but …"

Frank paused for a second, then he looked on the ground, and his look got soft. He smiled lightly, "But what if they will? … Nathan?"

Frank watched Nathan suddenly walking of, making his through to his car. He felt his heart racing. He fished out his phone, then he typed in Mark's number; his hands were sweaty and shaky. Mark didn't answer the phone, and after the third try Nathan spoke panically, "Mark! I've talked to Frank, he said Max and Chloe were close to find Rachel! Shit! Mark, what do we do? If, if they're gonna find her, I will go to … FUCK! Mark, answer that fucking phone!"

Nathan threw the phone on the seat, then he concentrated on driving again, even though his head felt like it was spinning, and he couldn't keep his thoughts still. Frank seemed pretty sure about the two girls finding Rachel. Nathan didn't want to think about what would happen if they'd find her corpse. Maybe the junkyard was too obvious. But then again, it was just right – most of the time, people didn't see the demons when they were right in front of them. … Or they didn't want to. Ignorance is the parent of fear.

Rachel … Nathan thought about Frank again. Of course Rachel didn't love Frank. Rachel loved someone completely different.

"Sorry girl, not my type of model. Try again, Rach." Nathan said, lifting his camera and looking at the monochrome of the deer skull he had just made. Rachel tilted her blonde head, peeping at Nathan's camera. "Pretty dope cam. How much grands? Two, or three?"

Nathan sighed, trying to focus on that photo. Why was everybody so obsessed with how much money his father made? "Dunno, could be about right."

"I wish I was that rich. 3 grands, and you fuckers would never see me again," Rachel said, lighting a cig. Her red lips stained her cig, and Nathan thought of Vic. Then she laughed, in a mixture of amusement and bitterness, "… Your life must be easy."

"Not in a million fucking years, sister," Nathan said, sniffing, "try growing up with an asshole, who prefers your perfect sister over you and not canceling a meeting even if you're laying in hospital with three broken rips because some bullies–"

Nathan silenced, and Rachel gave him her cig; he took a deep drag, then he stared at the deer skull, laying in the forest.

"Why don't you wanna frame me? Or are you more into like, y'know, male models?"

Nathan blushed, then he raised his head, and he glanced at her brown eyes. Some long blond lashes were surrounding them; Rachel's ones were different than the other eyes he had seen. They somehow seemed … wiser. Like she knew a lot more things than most of the people did, saw things from a different perspective. He opened his mouth, trying to talk his way out, but the moment he had formed the first word, he knew that it didn't matter what he said. Rachel already knew.

He turned his head, making sure nobody would see them. "H-How did you–"

"That was easy. No guy dresses as well as you do, even if your closet consists of Ralph Lauren and Abercrombie & Fitch . Oh, and you never stared at my tits – ever," she winked at him, and Nathan blushed again; then she smiled tenderly, and in her eyes Nathan could see that in this moment, she was somewhere else, "… and, well, you feel when someone's, you know … jusr the way you are."

Rachel and his eyes met, and Nathan understood.

Rachel Amber. The first girl Nathan had kissed, and she hadn't even been aware of it.

While driving, Nathan got another headache attack, but instead of taking a pause, he continued until he arrived at Blackwell again. He slowly got the feeling that he didn't care about anything anymore. He was pissed that he hadn't got any pills, and the throbbing pain in his head didn't go away. It accompanied him every step that he took, like a demon in his neck, stabbing him when he didn't think about it, a shadow following him, crawling up his spine. Nathan felt like he was getting weaker every day. His body felt heavier than ever and his heart was racing in the most random moments. He wanted to knock back some pills, but for getting some he needed an appointment with Dr. Bill, whom he hated more than anyone. But at least he had his cocaine, which turned off his senses, made him … numb, anesthetized his feelings and thoughts, made him forget about the horrible picture of Kate's head splattering, which had burned into his mind.

For one second, Nathan thought about turning back, driving home and ringing the bell of Sean's door and his new wive who was some years older than Nathan. But then he thought about the last time he had done that, which had ended up in Sean yelling at him for not being at school and disturbing him with his work, giving him some extra pocket money and telling him to fuck off and "buy something nice".

He arrived at the school's lot, then he parked his car when he saw a blonde pixie cut next to a silver Lexus with the license plate "GSSPGRL". Vic and Courtney were about to drive off, but before they did so, Vic noticed him, running over to him.

"Vic!" Nathan yelled, and he felt his heart lifted up as he saw his Queen Bee. Her smile was so damn cute and sassy, and Nathan sensed her perfume – this time, it was Prada's "Candy". Nathan already knew that one.

"I don't have much time," Vic said excitedly, "I'm gonna go shopping, Courts and I need some new shoes for the party, and we're gonna look for some party supplies. Where you from?"

"Got some dope for the party tonight," Nathan said, and he took a look at his SUV. Vic nodded, taking out her black Gucci sunglasses she had bought during a shopping trip with Nathan last summer.

"Very nice," Vic smiled, and her pink lipgloss was shining in the sun, "have you talked to your father about the alcohol? Anyway, remember the trip to Paris I told you about? I talked to daddy, and he said that he'd be glad if you'd join us like last time, Christmas in France with my best friend would be amazing. Oh, yeah, and he's still sorry for the crappy airline, next time he'll take his private jet."

"Oh, great," Nathan said, but he hadn't really listened to Vic and what she had said about the trip, since he had been stuck on her question about Sean. He looked at her with a gloomy look, then he blinked some times.

"I … I don't remember the last time I've really talked to him."

Silence. Vic stared at him for some time, then he smiled uneasily. "You don't look good, Nate, and you've been acting … strange lately. Maybe you get some rest before the party."

Then she looked at his car, and she laughed, "I can't believe you're still driving around in that junker. You're so weird, I love it."

"It's the one Sean gave me some years ago," Nathan said, and suddenly, he sensed a warm feeling in his stomach, and a faint nostalgic smile played about his lips. Then he looked on his brown leather shoes, feeling a lump in his throat. "… Vic, can I ask you something?"

Vic looked up, and Nathan's gaze remained averted. "Is it wrong, that … I sometimes wish not to be a Prescott, not being like us? … Like this?" His voice was deep and quiet, and he swallowed the sadness which was rising up in his stomach.

Was it wrong, wishing to be born in another family? Not having a burden like the last name, laying on his shoulders, just being free? When Nathan had been younger, he had thought that money had been able to buy everything, and he was still absolutely convinced that money could make happy. His six grands monochrome camera mad him happy as fuck.

But it didn't make these voices stop.

"Don't be ridiculous, Nathan," Vic smiled lightly, putting on her black sunglasses, and defined lips were showing her white teeth. Then she lifted her hand and put it on Nathan's cheeks, covering his scratch marks.

"Everybody wants to be us."

Nathan watched her and Courtney driving off, seeing the sun beams shining on the silver hood; shortly after, the car disappeared behind the trees of Blackwell's avenue, leaving Nathan in the lot, staring at ground and noticing his tears wetting the paving stone.

Nathan walked across the campus, noticing Mark's old photos hanging everywhere. Back when he hadn't used drugs, when he had thought that the girls would manage to create photos as authentic as he wanted. Initially, he had wanted to fake the innocence, but then he had gotten tired of the girls failing this specific facial expression, and photographing them while sleeping hadn't been as good as it could've been, too

So he had needed to get creative.

Nathan saw the birds and squirrels laying around, and Samuel having a hard time picking them all up. Nathan knew the look on his face too well; a mixture of bitter sadness and resignation about what was awaiting them. Nathan had experienced the same feeling when seeing the most majestic creatures of the sea, laying on the beach like some trash which had gotten washed up. Maybe Samuel's right, Nathan thought for the first time, while secretly observing him picking up the birds, I sure don't believe in this spirit-animal-bullshit, but if this was true … then seeing these squirrels must suck ass. Maybe Samuel's the only person who believes that there's some shit going on as well. The snow, then the eclipse, and then the dying animals … that must've been nature trying to warn us all. For the first time, Nathan swallowed thinking about the name of their next club party. End of the World, what an irony. Who had come up with this retarded name?

… Oh, well. None other than the club president in person.

Nathan was heading to the dormitories, when he stopped as he saw this specific brown fuzzy hair he loved so much. Nathan held his breath and creeped to the entrance, trying not to be seen by Warren and the girl he was talking to. Nathan wasn't sure, but he believed it was Stella, the girl with the drone. Nathan sucked with names. While sneaking to the door and avoiding Warren seeing him, he observed him talking to this girl. She seemed to be upset, and Nathan believed that Warren was trying to apologize for not going ape with her. Nathan remembered Max pissing Warren off, and he immediately got angry again; the classics were the best movies, and Max needed to get her shit together concerning Cannibal Holocaust.

Nathan loved these films, and there was no universe where Warren would've asked him to go watch them with him, but if he would've asked him, Nathan would've said yes the second he had asked.

Nathan, frustrated and downcast, entered his dorm, when suddenly blue hair flashed for a second. Nathan didn't have the time to wonder who this blue hair was belonging to, since he suddenly got another head attack. This time, it was a hard one. Where were his fucking pills when he needed them?! He put a hand on his forehead, contorting his face with pain, but he comforted himself, saying that he could take a sniff the second he entered his room.

But this should wait.

He opened the door to his dorm, standing in front of Max and Chloe, who were holding something in their hand. For a split second, Max's and his eyes met, and they were staring at each other, equally surprised at seeing the other one. His eyes widened in anger.

"What are you doing in my dorm?" he snarled. Why was it so un-fucking-believably difficult to have one's fucking privacy without some noisy dykes sniffing around in his life?!

Chloe, cowed and caught off-guard, took a step back, and Max followed, hiding whatever they had found behind their back. Now you're not so strong, you stupid ho.

"You are such a nosy bitch, Max," Nathan yelled as he was walking toward her, oh how he enjoyed seeing her fearful face. That's right, you slut – you better fear me, or you get in hella trouble. Nathan couldn't lie, he hadn't felt this superior in ages, and it was satisfying as fuck. It reminded him of holding that gun against Chloe's stomach.

Finally, he had been feared, respected. If none of his friends did, he needed to command respect himself.

"Stop right there, Nathan!"

"Make me, ho." What a cute thought of Max, thinking she was able to intimidate him, and how little she knew that Mark was actually planning on drugging her, the teacher she had probably a huge crush on, the one she trusted. How innocent, almost endearing.

Nathan, still struggling with getting the attack of the day, sensed Chloe pushing him away, triggering another strike into his head. He tried not to pull a face, while he was in inner turmoil, remembering the last time having an attack and awaking to Kate Marsh's voice. Nathan's cheeks were burning with rage, and he clenched his fists, taking a swing.

Why can't they just leave me alone?! Why do they need to find Rachel, sniffing around in my things? I just want everything to be normal.

It had been, when Max hadn't arrived yet, when there wasn't a stupid Max trying everything to piss him off and a Warren fucking around with his emotions, giving him the hardest time of his life while showing him what a stupid faggot he was.

Why couldn't everything be just–

"Max, I got this!"

Nathan gasped, as he realized who was standing in front of him, glaring at him like a warrior; dark red skin was framing his brown eye, a brown shirt showing the most epic emoji Nathan had ever seen. Nathan stared at Warren, and his stern look was burning in Nathan's eyes, torching his internal and his heart, and in this moment, Nathan would've rather grabbed it and teared it out, instead of enduring this pain while seeing him defending the girl Nathan threatened. The girl he loved.

Nathan looked at Warren's red full lips, and he would've given anything to … He looked into his eyes, and if Warren would've looked closely, he could've seen Nathan's heart, writhing in pain, screaming his name. It was so obvious, and yet nobody noticed.

But Nathan had a role he needed to play, had to hide his secret from the others, and from himself, and that's when love turned to frustration and frustration turned to hate. Hate against Max, hate against Warren's feelings for her, and hate against himself.

"Get the fuck out of my face."

But this time, Warren had changed, and Nathan knew what was coming the second he had screamed his last words, had seen Warren gnashing his teeth. He widened his eyes with shock, the next second he felt a blunt pain on his forehead, and he fell on the ground. A female scream sounded, and Nathan realized that Warren had smashed his head on Nathan's.

Nathan, paralyzed with shock, stared at Warren, who was moaning as he felt his head. He gasped, not being able to move. You hurt yourself in order to hurt me, trying to protect Max. You … you must really hate me. I am the reason for you to be … a man. To stand up against your bullies.

Alright, Nathan thought when looking into Max's eyes, seeing the mixture of dark fascination and blank horror she experienced while seeing the guy she thought she had known, I will play along. I'm the bully, the weird rich kid, the role I have played my whole life. I'm used to it. I will do you this one favor. I will put on the mask you gave me, and I will wear it with the same passion you want from me. I will take a role in your play, and it will be the best performance you'll ever see. Now see, you fuckers, better be glad for the Nathan Prescott you pretend to know.

Nathan held his breath while blank rage was rising up his spine, if you all want me this way …

Then you get me this way.

"You are so fucking dead!" Nathan yelled, outraged and frustrated, grabbing his gun when suddenly, it was the main actor who broke out of his role. Nathan sensed a sharp pain in his hand, then he heard his gun falling on the ground. Seconds later, Warren and his roles had gotten completely exchanged. The pain was drilling its way into his stomach, which felt like it was shattering.

"Get off me, brah!" Nathan screamed, but Warren didn't stop. He gasped, struggling to breath, as he sensed the burning pain in his rips getting stronger. He wanted to scream, but no words left his mouth. His body felt like it got ripped apart, and Nathan started to sense blood. He couldn't move; all he could do was looking at Warren, seeing his face, so full of hate, so beautiful that he wanted to cry. Nathan wanted to scream, but another kick into his stomach took away his breath, and he was writhing in pain while begging Warren to stop.

It had been ages since Nathan had felt this much pain, since he had begged for some help, and it had been ages since he had been this ashamed of himself. There he was, his love, the guy who lifted his heart, whose sight was making Nathan's day a hundred times better, the little nerd he loved and desired. There he was, beating him up for a girl.

At this moment, Nathan had never felt this alone, and there was a voice telling him that Warren wouldn't stop, and why? The realization burned into his mind like his regular head attacks: because there was no one left Nathan hadn't pissed off, who had one single fuck to give about him, no relationship left Nathan hadn't fucked up. Nathan hoped Max enjoyed this performance, because this was the real Nathan Prescott. Somebody no one cared about.

"Warren, stop it! Come on!"

The words were shooting through the corridors of his head, and Nathan looked up, seeing Max who was dragging Warren away from him, and he could't believe what he had just witnessed.

… Max had protected him from Warren. Max, the one Warren had saved from Nathan, twice. The girl who had gotten bullied and texted by him, had gotten threatened and insulted … this girl had more decency than his friends.

Nathan swallowed, feeling the burning shame like a wave, making his back sweat and his heart race. He looked into her frightened face; this couldn't be …!

"Ow … my head," Nathan said, astonished and in pain, seeing the shocked eyes of Chloe and Warren, and feeling like a tiny wounded rat laying on the dirty floor, "why are you looking at me like that, huh? You … and you … you're all dead!"

He stood up and grabbed his gun, then he held his stomach, holding back a scream because of the pain. He flushed with embarrassment, seeing their looks. He had never felt this vulnerable and pathetic in his whole life.

"Plus my dad is on his way! You're all fucked," he screamed, coughing because his stomach felt like it had gotten twisted, "he … he owns you!"

But the three ignored his pathetic attempt of threatening them, and Nathan somehow made his way to his room. Then he fell on his bed, sobbing and whimpering while holding his stomach. It hurt more with every pant and he tried to hold his breath in order not to vomit because of the pain.

Nathan hoped that this would be the climax of this fucking play he was tired of playing. His role had changed, but in a way that couldn't be worse. He wanted it all to stop, Nathan couldn't stand everybody staring at him, like an audience, fascinated by the recent outcome, hoping for an end that suited Nathan the best.

Nathan, the most hated character. The antagonist, who wanted nothing more than not being part of the play.

He took out his black American Express, his Peruvian flake, and the curtain fell.