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Chapter Text

The stage light was blinding them but even then they were aware of the stares. One wrong move and the disapproval will drown out the applause. One wrong choice and the king would loose his head.

John Richard Papen.

Classical Major. 19 years old. Student from CAL University.

What do you want to be?

“Not like Icarus who flew too close to the sun,” Richard continued for Filippa. The cousins have been interpreting the Greek stories in their spare time and they had yet to grow bored. The masculine one spoke about Icarus and Orpheus, two different characters with no tales that featured both at the same time, but even there was a connection.

“Yes, indeed. Icarus fell from the sky, wings melting and no hand to hold. It's a tragic story for that boy who wanted freedom, a tragic ending especially with the illusion of choice.”

Filippa continued on.

“Orpheus had a choice. A choice he regretted.”

Despite being the man, Richard was not the masculine one between the two. He nodded at times while Filippa retell the story of the two characters, remembering it all with great detail even when he had just changed majors to Classics.

He briefly wondered which choice Filippa meant – Him looking back at Eurydice or even before that? The times when he hadn't looked at her at all?

Richard cared a great deal. He always did when it comes to myths such as these even when his interests lies deeply in French history than the Ancient times. Still, he listened attentively and Filippa felt grateful for that.

“So which tale are you playing, Pip?” Richard asked at last. “For the festival?”

“Icarus,” she replied with a hint of disappointment.

“Who are you playing?”

“I'm not sure right now,” Filippa said with a shrug. She looked down with deep concentration.

Richard wondered if that was it –the end of her story – but she looked up again with a guess in her tongue's tip.

“I hope I play Ariadne.”

Richard tilted his head in confusion. “Her? What part does she play in the story?”

“Nothing much but then again we're shifting the story a bit to include more characters in the play-” Filippa explained, regaining her smile,“- and Ariadne was just as rebellious like Icarus. They both fell in their own ways.

Plus, she's a girl.”

“Do you had to add the last part?” Richard chuckled for a moment before sending a side glance at her.

“Of course, it's my first reason,” she spoke with a dead-panned face, shifting the atmosphere to a dull state. No one here knew better than Filippa what it was like to act as a male side character – unimportant to the plot and unlike her gender – it was hardly a light matter for her.

Richard caught on quickly of her sour mood and spoke nothing about it, only because he had heard this rant before. Instead, he swiftly changed the topic to the other plans CAL University had for them –the festival, the advertisement, and the parade.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” Filippa interrupted Richard with a knowing glance.

“I'm listing only the important ones,” he hastily replied. Ignoring Filippa's gaze, he went on about the festival theme and the time of the parade.

Filippa aimed for his shoulder and gave him a smack, interrupting once again his explanation. “Proved my point. You missed one.”

His shoulders didn't hurt much but it was enough to cast a glare for.

“Seriously, Pip?”

“My bad,” she shrugged with a faux apologetic tone. 

“Can't return the favor by staying silent as well?”

“I'm doomed by the judges and you as well, Richard. You can't keep running away from it.”

“I'm not running. I'm also not playing. The competition they'll host in the festival has nothing to do with me,” he retorted before marching away from his cousin.

“Oh it surely does, Richard!” Filippa called out for him but her voice was drowned out by the music he started playing in his earphones.

CAL University only ranked higher than Hampden and that university alone. It wasn't interesting as the others nor provided any better scholarships or opportunities to their students, it was merely a university that provided the same purpose with Hampden – a diploma.

As insignificant as it was, it still housed students willing to learn and had learned. The professors never failed to enter their classes and the events were still up and ongoing. For Richard, it was enough.

It wasn't like he wasn't ambitious as the rest. The quality just wasn't his top priority. It was the experience.

He yearned for the feeling of staying up late in the library, the smell of coffee in the hallways, and the comfort of his dorm. It wasn't a want; it was a need, a life support.

Medals and diplomas meant nothing to him if the yard wasn't a mix of orange and brown. The best part of CAL University was its architecture after all.

Imagine a cathedral in the middle of a cemetery with ghosts that lurked the hallways and a bell that rang for unknown reasons every 3 A.M. without a hunchback to perform the task. The mystery was intriguing, the aesthetic was pleasing.

Richard yearned for that.

He chased it in his nightmares, he embraced it in his dreams – and now he was finally living in it. He was awake for the first time and he busied himself just so he would never fall into a deep slumber.

Photography became his job, editing became his hobby, representing became a routine, and sculpting had been his secret. Every day he walked the halls with a camera that was a part of school's property and each day he would take a photo and submit it to the newspaper club.

That made him famous. That gave him a face. Now he was a key competitor on the battle between CAL and Hampden.

He did not enjoy it.

The conflict had nothing to do with him and he wanted anything but stick his nose on it. It was interesting in the beginning of his first semester but even that can get boring. No one in Hampden threatened him and so there was no reason for him to fight.

That prompted Richard's avoidance on any students from Hampden, never from disgust but a sign of ignorance. He wasn't a symbol of peace, he was merely an unwilling pawn to the king's game. He acted not out of rebellion but still it sparked the same light. Small and dull as it was, it became noticeable to his peers and a confusion to the rivals.

There was only one way to remain unseen for Richard – by playing their game.

But Richard had only one characteristic in him – prideful.

He wanted not the inevitable conflict but the idea did not scare him at the slightest. Filippa can warn him out of concern but there was no other game Richard would rather play other than chances and faith.

Unpredictable, wavering, outcomes. The thrill of surprises.

The day was ending for him. Orange hues reflected on the pond and the birds returned to their nests. Richard finished editing his recent photo collections and was about to leave the school's library so he could moved into a larger library with various books, neither worn or torn. When he submitted the photos to the club leader, he left in a haste.

The walk to the town's library was an exhausting trip for the building was located at the top of a hill. It stayed there for centuries and the town mayor had no plans in changing it's location or building a new library closer to the bustling streets. Richard praised him for that.

Usually, the library tended to be empty for not everyone was willing to hike up such path. The librarian and the assistants often complained about the lack of visitors but secretly relished on the quiet atmosphere and the familiar faces. They knew the readers names well to the point Richard too had made an effort in knowing theirs.

The entrance was close to him now at the 15 minute count and relief flooded his system. Although before he went in, he took a right turn and began inspecting the bulletin board standing a few feet away.

Sculpt the Best

Contest held at All That Jazz Studio on May 20 (7 P.M)

Deadline of enter submissions on May 15 (10 P.M)

Hope to meet extraordinary sculptors soon!

Interesting, Richard noted as he grabbed his phone in his pocket and took a photo of the flyer. He pocketed it once again and finally entered the building with anticipation and a knowing feeling that he'll be meeting that man again.

It seemed as if the library was busy today, not bustling but nevertheless filled with energy. The assistants were busy stacking up newly delivered books and were unable to greet Richard. He didn't mind of course, he was too busy searching for a black overcoat to care.

“Richard,” a voice called out for him.

He looked sidewards where he was sure the voice had came from but was greeted by a book blocking his sight.

“I'm over here,” the man said in the opposite side.

Richard bit his bottom lip in petty frustration but fixed his expression before turning his head to face the man.

“Henry Winter, how long have you been here?”

The words came out friendly and so did the face he pulled but even then the eyes of Henry remained glum and dark, never hinting any sign of delight at seeing Richard once again.

He tried daily to coax out a smile from the man but weeks had passed and no progress was made. Richard did everything in his power not to falter his own smile as Henry stared at him without moving.

“I was wondering whether you'd be coming,” he answered at last prompting a noise of confusion from the brunette.

“Why wouldn't I come?” Richard laughed even when Henry's face remained grave. He would always come, in fact, he'd been visiting this place since the first day he moved to Hampden. There was no question of his arrival.

“Bunny said that Marion said that you haven't been answering her calls or texts. She thought you were busy with a competition in some other place,” Henry explained before he turned his back on Richard and walked to his table, leaving the brunette to hastily reach for his phone and scroll down in his apps to find his contacts.

Sure enough he missed 10 calls from Marion and 1 call from Bunny. Richard was about to hit the call button until he remembered he was in the library, prompting him to search for his messages instead.

Boss

Richard

Richard

Richard Papen

John Richard Papen!

Jesus what's the point of your phone if you won't even check your messages?!

I have a favor Richard so if you receive this message then come to Hampden ASAP.

But if you're already in the library when you read this, then forget it.

Find time to meet me tomorrow.

It's important.

Marion

Marion

I'm sorry I'm already in the library when I checked my messages.

Let's meet up at All That Jazz studio at 9 A.M. tomorrow, okay?

Richard sent the messages with growing fear in his nerves. Marion was terrifying when she's angry and worse when she's disappointed. He shut his phone with acceptance at the lecture he'd be receiving tomorrow and searched one more time for Henry.

“What did she wanted?” Henry asked when Richard sat down at the chair facing him.

“I'm not sure yet,” he replied, “Could be about anything. Hell maybe something that involves James again.”

Henry stilled at the mention of James' name but regained his posture quickly. Richard expected it though since he was well acquainted with the tense relationship Winter and Farrow shared.

“Why are you involved with Farrow, anyways?” Henry asked with a curious tone. “He's a performing arts student. You don't share anything in common with him.”

That's true, Richard pondered. James and he weren't even friends despite all their interactions. Although Henry was also wrong, James shared Richard's extreme distaste on the Hampden vs. CAL battle.

Richard chose to remain silent though for he knew there was no point in correcting Henry. Bringing up James had been a fault of his to begin with, he can't worsen his already sour mood if he wanted to gain Henry's trust. When Richard was sure there was nothing else they could talk about, he picked up one of Henry's books and began reading, content with the fact they could exist together in silence.

*click*

It was rare to see a Hampden student interacting with a CAL student even if it was merely a polite conversation. Meredith was sure that was how it should it go --riled up schools and forbidden bonds-- yet those men never failed to surprise her every time they meet up, talking like there were no boundaries separating their two worlds. 

She find it confusing yet still rather amusing. She, unlike her friends, participated a lot on the battle between the two universities, not because of some undeserved discrimination but due to a rivalry between her and the 6ft tall villainous actor residing in CAL's walls.

Alexander the Worse

*sent image*

tell your friend to join in already

is that Henry and Richard?

yup

HHAHAHHAA why are they so close with each other???

don't ask me

cmooonnn just tell Richard to join in the battle. it's funner when he's around.

give up on that Meri. he won't ever. just wait 'till the festival arrives

what's with the festival?

Vermont is gonna host lots of contests. we can host a competition when that happens.

EYYYY i like the way you're thinking kid.

don't call me that.

smart ideas doesn't come naturally to you. stole that from ur tuesday bf?

wednesday. he's the smart one.

shaiit whatever fuck boy

whore.

This semester was going to be fun, Meredith can tell. She looked over at the two men again and snickered softly to herself.

Alexander can feel it too.

Merideath

btw

guess what?

what?

we're playing icarus for the festival remember?

duh

this play might actually go smoothly for oliver

Oliver? Merideth's eyes widen with interest.

sure?

oh yeah definitely

i thought he quit? didn't he chose to be part of the instrumentals?

he's an actor through and through, Meri

sides James wont let him go that easily

oh no

oh no no no

do not bring up james to me

oh girl

CAL is so winning this play contest

especially since u have a lover boy as ur male lead

Chapter Text

James did not care as well of the competition between the two universities, he has his own to worry about after all.

Last evening, all the performance arts students were gathered in the cafeteria to wait for the results of the role distribution for the upcoming play, Orpheus and Eurydice. Last night, James could only grip his spoon in frustration after reading his name written in the first line with bold letters.

James Farrow as Orpheus

Orpheus was a man he admired and his favorite amongst the rest yet he knew full well he could never do the man justice.

"I don't get your worries, James," Meredith commented while sipping a glass of wine she sneaked in from the dormitory's hidden stash. "Everyone knows you can act any male lead roles with perfection."

"Not precisely male leads, Meri," Wren chimed in, giving a brief sympathetic stare at James before facing Meredith completely. "He knows how to play the prince. Orpheus may seem like a prince but he is still a poet."

"So? I know princes and poets aren't the same but why can't James play as a poet too? He can be a hopeless romantic if he sets his mind to it," Meredith shrugged before scrolling down her phone to reread everyone's role in the play. She read hers multiple of times and briefly wondered what the professors expected from her once she played the role.

Wren shook her head in a tired manner which Meredith caught and glared at her for.

"C'mon tell me the difference!"

James looked at Wren as she took a deep breath before proceeding with her explanation. He noticed how she closed her eyes as she began talking and the uncomfortable expression that briefly passed in her face for having to use her voice.

"For one, we often describe any prince as chivalrous, brave, and have a sense of purpose. They represent a kingdom by wearing a crown, they gain hearts by showing off their sword. They rule, they fight and defend, and they are to be expected in every story. Like James who we can already tell from the start will be playing someone important.

A poet, on the other hand, tends to be the narrator. They describe the surroundings in an outside perspective, they blend in at first and show off later on. Their songs should captivate you, not their face or qualities–in a play at least. You can be attracted by the poet but you're not seeing the glimpse of their soul but instead a glimpse of their muse. Orpheus may be the main lead but you see Persephone or Eurydice in his songs."

When Wren was done, both her listeners stayed still in their table. James bit his lips in frustration at the implications of Wren's words while Meredith looked at her phone with fleeting excitement.

"But the story revolves around Orpheus getting back Eurydice in the Underworld, no?" she began asking again. "They'll be focusing on his determination and love. James always acted those qualities."

"Oliver played those roles better," James muttered.

"Oliver indeed was a better poet than all of us." Wren agreed which made James felt even more down.

"If he was here, he would play as Orpheus and I as-"

"Eurydice?" Meredith cut James off with a pointed look. "Be fucking for real with me man. If Oliver was here, you'd still play as Orpheus unless you lick the boots of Frederick."

"Meredith!" Wren raised her voice in offense. "Frederick knows how to pick our roles efficiently. He won't fall for bias and prejudice, it would be a fair distribution of roles."

"Alright alright," Meredith raised her hand in mocked surrender. "Look I'm just trying to say that James shouldn't worry much because Orpheus is one hell of a lucky role to have and he has his charisma!"

James faced away immediately, no longer wanting to continue with the discussion. He imagined playing as anyone else instead– hell even as Hades. Oliver would sing the song of love in front of him, make him be moved by his smoothing vocals and the sounds of the lyre dripping in every string he pulled. He wondered what role Oliver will play in his play. Icarus, wasn't it? He wished him only the best.

Imagine how bummed he was when he heard Oliver chose to play instrumentals instead. Filippa had mentioned the possibility of it before the festival became the biggest priority of both schools but even then James couldn't picture Oliver leaving his role as an actor.

He ran immediately to CAL University even when he knew they wouldn't allow him in. He could have texted Oliver instead but he always preferred seeing his face rather than his tortoise profile.

Olive

Two days ago

Why did you changed your pfp to a tortoise?

is it not cute?

It's adorable

But it's so random

it won't be if you change yours to a hare

Another reference?

yup

He did change it but he still preferred the picture of him staring at Oliver who was playing with the ducks, the picture Alexander took and teased him for.

It's cute though when he thought about it hard. He didn't get the appeal of matching until he and Oliver matched for the first time.

A tortoise and a hare. He wondered what they're racing for.

All he knew was that he was tired and breathless when he reached the entrance gate of CAL University. He still felt intimidated of it all – the way the buildings stretched to the sky, the ominous bell tower, and the all black attire the students like to wear.

He always wondered why Oliver went here instead of following him to Hampden. Was he tired of him? Oliver never answered the question and silence often meant yes.

James was about to fetch for his phone to send a quick text to Oliver when he caught a lively blonde girl chatting loudly with her friends. She wore a style completely different from the people around her, colorful but not eye-straining. For a second, James thought he saw Meredith but it was clear the lady in front of him was her own person, a muse instead of a copy.

Beside her was a man he was familiar with. Dark curls and a terrifying body frame, wicked eyes and a sly smile – he knew immediately who he was.

"Alexander!" he called, waving his hand frantically. "Alexander! Over here!"

The man heard him in his third call and was pleasantly surprised to see his old friend.

"James? What timing to see you!" he responded with a shout as he made his way to James' side, leaving behind the unusual lady and the more reserved one with a confused but intrigued face.

"What do you mean?" James asked, slightly worried about Alexander's frenzied hair.

"You probably already know about Oliver's current state right? That's why you're here I bet," Alexander smirked at guessing it right when James' opened his mouth in defense. "Nuh uh! Don't deny it I can read you well Principe!" he cut him off before he could speak and continued on with his news, "Listen, I hooked something up so you won't have to worry about it." he stopped with a proud smile but apparently was not done.

"Wait! Keep it to yourself first! There's more I have to to say."

"Alexander! Just tell me what you did!"

"I'm getting there now shush!" he covered James mouth with his hand and ignored the frustrated noises of his friend.

"He is going to audition for the role of Icarus – no buts! Although, you have to participate in this year's festival competitions!"

James mouth went slack behind Alexander's hand which felt safe for the latter to retrieve his hand back and wipe it in his jacket.

"How does that work?" James asked when he regained himself. "He agreed in auditioning for Icarus if I compete in the festival?"

His friend laughed at his question before answering with a quivering voice.

"Oh no no no! He doesn't know anything about that, it's a deal struck between you and me!"

"A deal? Vass I don't want to strike a deal with you! I could have handled this by myself!" James argued with frustration and fleeting patience.

"Oh yeah?" Alexander taunted, "I think I did you a huge favor."

"You absolutely did not!" he retorted with a finger pressed into his friend's chest. "I don't need you interfering with Oliver's choices."

The words came out with a harsher tone than he expected which caught Alexander off-guard. His friend's smile was no longer filled with jest as he stepped back from James with a sigh.

"What's done is done now, James. Had I acted any later, he would have already committed to becoming an instrumentalist.”

"Oliver loves acting," James reminded Alexander.

"Past tense, James." Alexander retorted. "It's all in the past."

Icarus was a man who fell from the sky. A metaphor for the people who fell from grace.

To understand Icarus, you have to know what it's like to reach for the stars, to step in the cage and show off your best self.

An actor can be like Icarus in the middle of their peak moments, not when they're still stuck in their nest, unsure whether they want to take the leap or not. Oliver can't be Icarus because he's afraid.

Richard doesn't know what it's like to fear falling. As far as he was concerned, he hadn't once fell from grace.

He wasn't the Richard who came from the bottom – the pauper or the pawn to a game. He was the Richard that controlled the scene, the puppeteer. He knew others like he knew himself. He set the standard, he gave others their identity.

He was the man behind every music sheets, every order, and every fire that drove the characters in the play.

He was the boyfriend of Meredith, the villain in James' story, and the guide for Oliver's success.

"I'm not Richard Papen, Oliver. Though I believe I can still be of use for you," Richard responded to Oliver's request of meeting the man behind the photographs in the school paper.

"Richard Stirling? What are you doing in the newspaper club?" Oliver smiled in disbelief at seeing his friend.

"I'm submitting an article for the editorial page," he replied broadly.

Oliver nodded as he took small steps towards Richard.

"Where did your twin go?"

"In the library if I'm right," Richard replied. "He left moments ago, it's a shame you weren't able to bump into him."

A laugh echoed in room which startled the speaking man momentarily. He raised a brow at Oliver's joyful expression but the response came later with the muffled giggles he had to contain.

"Bumping into Papen? You know damn well it takes a miracle to do that!"

"You're being dramatic, Oliver," he rolled his eyes. He never really understood how Papen could be mystery to his folks.

"Isn't that how we should be, my friend?" Oliver jested.

"To actors, yes. But you quit, didn't you?"

The silence prolonged after Richard dropped the question. Oliver's eyes wavered and no longer felt confident to maintain the eye contact both of them once shared. When it became deafening to Richard as well, he cleared his throat and began talking like how he usually do when around the insecure boy.

Fierce but motivating.

A splitting image of their director, Gwendolyn Oswald.

"You shouldn't be afraid to act, Oliver. You have the talent when you don't overthink it."

"You make it sound so easy," Oliver laughed drily.

"Because it is." he shrugged. "James is no longer with you yet you're still here as an important set in the play. You can be captivating if you don't let him steal all the spotlight."

"Don't say that like James means unwell to me," Oliver snapped, not loud or with rage, but offended and slightly nervous.

Richard stayed silent for a few minutes to observe the furrowed brows and the clenched jaw of Oliver's. He wondered why the man was obsessed with his bestfriend. He once believed that the shy and reserved man cracked the moment he applied in CAL University instead of Hampden. He thought Oliver had seen James for who he truly was yet the man in front of him still defended the fraud with his life, an annoying tendency to Richard who regretted keeping his hopes high up.

"Just what reason did you have for enrolling in CAL anyways, Oliver?" he asked at last despite knowing full well he wouldn't be getting a straight answer.

"I wanted to. As simple as that," Oliver replied, proving Richard right.

"How about why you came here looking for Papen then?" he asked instead.

When the answer came a minute late, Richard perked his eyes up with curiosity.

"Oliver?"

The man in front of him began biting his lips like he always do when nervous. His hands fidget in his sides as he scanned in his surroundings like an alert animal who sensed a predator lurking in the grass. If he spoke his reason, then they would charge. "I wanted to ask if there's a way for me to switch majors like he did," he said at last with a weak but resigned voice.

The confession managed to keep Richard stunned for a long while. His mind was still processing how bad Oliver was feeling and for once, managed to actually take pity on his friend.

"You don't have to do that, Oliver." he said with genuine sadness of the idea of Oliver gone from Theatre Arts. "You should talk to James about this first."

"James?" he asked offended. "Why? I thought you said I'm my own person, Richard. Why do I have to tell him about everything I want to do?"

"Because-" Richard started but didn't know how to end it. Oliver scoffed before marching out the door, rightfully angry this time. In a hurry, Richard followed him out as he worked his tongue for a reason.

"You started this with him, didn't you? You were content with being his sidekick."

"Content? I was fine but I wanted more than that too," Oliver corrected as he fastened his pace.

"Okay then so maybe you weren't content but you were his partner in all these! Isn't it only right to warn you partner about leaving before you actually do? You know damn well I would also tell you if ever I decided to call quits in acting and we aren't that close!"

"He won't let me," Oliver responded but his voice was too weak to hear. The moment he descended the stairs, Richard stopped in his chase and contemplated whether he should watch him go or continue to persuade him from leaving.

"Fuck it," he ultimately decided as he skipped two steps just to catch up with Oliver. "C'mon man don't be a quitter! The festival is coming soon and the professors were finally seeing your worth while they were scrolling at the list of potentials casts!"

"Did Gwendolyn told you that? Or was it the other way around?" Oliver snapped unknowingly, making Richard stopped in his tracks when realization finally hit him.

"Oh no wonder you left James side," he smiled wildly. "James made everything easy for you which only widen your insecurities of your own talent!"

His voice echoed through hallways, making Oliver whip his head around. His eyes no longer masked the rage and humiliation buried in him as he faced Richard like he could punch him any time.

Richard looked into those eyes and saw potential.

"Don't quit Oliver."

The determination in his voice made Oliver slightly waver but he held a strong grip in his decision.

"You'd want to quit if you were in my shoes, Richard."

"No I wouldn't" he spoke with confidence. "I would prove them wrong if I were walking in your shoes."

"How?" Oliver asked almost begging even.

"By auditioning as Icarus."

"I can't." Oliver shook his head in despair.

"Yes you can," Richard remained convinced, "We can ask Alexander to help you. He'll help."

"It's pointless," Oliver muttered but he couldn't fight the hand that gripped his. Richard pulled Oliver back to the theater, back to his domain.

Alexander received the text first before Oliver asked him for help him. It was a desperate text in his end, a text that confused him immensely but was not something he was willing to decline.

Caesar

just help him Vass

why not james?

James this james that

even i'm getting tired of hearing his name

just do it

you can probably use this as an opportunity

opportunity?

use your mind you sneaky villain

imagine what outcome we'll have once oliver plays as icarus

The plot twist of the story, Alexander hadn't thought about that yet. When he looked at James, he realized that the twist might affect their friendship.

But the festival was coming and the competition was on.

"Why don't you text Oliver instead, James?" he offered, "You look like a worried boyfriend if you enter the campus like that."

James looked at Alexander with a hint of anger but decided to grab his phone either ways.

Olive

Oliver

How are you doing?

The response didn't came immediately like it always did

I heard you're auditioning as Icarus

Did it go well?

Oliver didn't seen the message at all.

Tell me if everything is alright.

Please?

Alexander didn't wait for James to finish texting him for him to leave. The strange lady had been waiting for him the entire time and they began talking and taking few side glances at James.

The response of Oliver only came when James finally reached his apartment.

Olive

Please?

Why wouldn't it be?

I'm fine, James.

Worry about your ownplay

The festival is coming up and we both know how competitive our schools can be.

Reading the message made James realized just how bad the relationship between CAL and Hampden was. He didn't expect Oliver to care about it, he always thought it wouldn't get between their friendship.

Except maybe this wasn't Oliver's way in saying he was fed up with James. Maybe he hadn't placed much importance in the festival than he should be. Everyone was working hard while he was carelessly going through his routine. He wished he was more like Oliver, no, he wished he could be with Oliver while doing all this. He would have reminded him of the importance of the plays. His passionate movements would inspire James to fulfill his role with perfection.

James couldn't be his best without Oliver. He knew that as a fact when he scrolled down his contacts and saw ten missed calls and five unread messages from Marion.

Marion

You skipped practice

Remember you have the leading role

They said you were caught in CAL's premise

They're not going to react to that well and you know that. Just focus on our school before you go on butting on the business of others.

I'm calling Richard.

Chapter Text

Vermont are you ready🗣?‼ 𝔽𝔼𝕊𝕋𝕀𝕍𝔸𝕃 𝕆𝔽 𝕋𝔸𝕃𝔼ℕ𝕋𝕊 will soon begin in the the last week of May📅. Get ready your skills, your 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘺✦, and the 𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒾𝒻𝒾𝒸 faces fitting for this year's theme – ᴛʀᴀɢᴇᴅʏ!

#festivaloftalents #vermontnews

💬150k ♡ㅤ 79k ⎙ㅤ 20k⌲

Streets were bustling with energy and the preparation has finally begun. Chatters of excitement and curiosity lingered in every sidewalk as each and every resident of Vermont wondered what the others have in store. But aware as they were about the determination of every acquaintance in this year's festival, they were not one to tone down their own competitive spirits as they decorate their front yard and their offices in hopes of surpassing their neighbors. As contests continued to roll in from one right after another, everyone applied in hopes the trophy would land in their cabinets at last.

For a moment, people managed to forget about the ongoing drama between two certain universities. Indeed, for once, the battle of high intellect or amazing physique was not exclusive to just young adults who had yet to step out from the comfort of their campus' gates. The time was coming when age doesn't determine who'll wore the laurel crown. An old man or a college student – the victor could be anyone.

The festival of talents officially starts when nights no longer pass in eerie silence and hushed tones, it starts when the competitive roars and drunken songs deafen the people's ears and liven the atmosphere of the once dull and empty streets of Vermont. It will continue in consecutive days with boastful celebration and adrenaline spiking to everyone as they drown in the festivity and embrace the theme of the night.

Ironic, in every sense, that laughter drowned out the usual empty noise when the people were dressed as fallen heroes and lost lovers. Tragedy played out in every corner of the street, a memory or what could've been told through songs and acts.

Vermont was celebrating despair.

"Feels like Halloween season already," Judy commented as she watched people hang skeleton in their doorways and decorate their yard with graveyards and wilted flowers.

"Certainly," Richard agreed for once with slight distaste of the sight of the state. "It's still May."

"Then again, why on earth did we chose 'Tragedy' as our theme?"

"It's not so bad," he replied earning a knowing smile from Judy who sensed his disagreement miles away.

"'Course you'd say that, misery boy!"

"Whatever Judy,"he muttered as he fastened his pace. Both of them passed the bakery they used to used to determine their 10km walk which reminded Richard immediately of the errand he had to attend if he didn't want to lose his life in the hands of his friend's girlfriend.

"Where are you going, Richard?" Judy asked when he turned to crossed the road.

"I forgot to do something," he answered back broadly, never really forgetting but merely delaying the moment he had to meet Marion. When he reached the other end of the road, Judy was no longer there to wave him goodbye.

I wonder how we managed to tolerate each other, he thought briefly but ignored it in favor of checking his vibrating phone.

Boss is calling you

"Well shit it's not even 10 AM yet." Richard, not wanting to be scolded while out of breath, placed his phone back in his pocket before making a run towards All That Jazz Studio.

The studio was cramped by people when he entered at precisely ten in the morning. He looked left and right for either an intimidating woman with glasses or wearing all red – those were the only noticeable feature Marion wore. Unfortunately, not a single person match the description which made Richard wonder if he should have picked up the phone in case Marion had called to cancel their meeting.

How troublesome, Richard sighed as he looked for his phone.

Boss

Let's meet up at All That Jazz studio at 9 A.M. tomorrow, okay?

May 13 10:05

Richard

I'll be running late

The preparations are coming early and I have no idea how to manage things out

How long would that take?

No answer.

Well knowing Marion she'd hurry things up, Richard assured himself as he fell in line along with the other people in the room. He had many things to do and he might as well start checking his list now.

"Hey," a voice called him from behind. Richard surprised himself for immediately recognizing the amused voice that smelled like cigarettes even from where he was standing.

It was Francis.

"Oh hey," Richard answered, seemingly unable to match the energy of his friend.

"Are you also signing up on the sculpting contest?" he asked with a teasing voice, a tone almost always directed to Richard no matter what he was doing or the circumstances of the situation.

A nod was all Richard could handle before he went back to focusing on the line.

"Any ideas in your mind?" Francis asked anyways knowing full well he cannot be easily ignored by the man. The redhead was a real work, no one can find themselves drowning his sultry words and expectant eyes– Richard tried all the time and he failed every attempt.

"For the sculpture, I mean."

His smile revealed two dimples which Richard noticed first once he turned around.

He pondered for a moment, contemplating hard on how much information he should give away or if there was even an answer to that question. Francis, not knowing his friend had taken him seriously, chattered away of his plan – vague but lengthy due to his way in speaking. Sarcastic, humorous, and descriptive.

"You'd be surprise how helpful history is when giving inspiration to us. Tragedy, it's not a brand new concept, isn't it? We find it in wars or in ballrooms –"

"Ballrooms? Are you talking about Romeo and Juliet?" Richard smiled uncontrollably. Speaking about Shakespeare made him envision Henry's disapproving glare.

"Oh sure," Francis responded, slightly annoyed at being interrupted. "There are a lot of tragedies back then – fictional or not. I think Greek tragedies would look fitting this festival."

"Is that your inspirational? Are you going to sculpt Orpheus and Eurydice?"

"Only if you sculpt Icarus."

"No I don't think I will," Richard replied. "I'm not sure if I'll take any inspiration from the Greek tales."

"Why not?"

"Marion might kill me for one," he laughed. She never told him yet but it was obvious from the start that Hampden was following their own specific theme this festival. A theme she and Henry agreed on after a long evening of disagreeing with each other. "If I do Greek tragedies, I'll lose my place in the contest for sure with all the complaints."

"We don't own Greece," Francis said with a shrug.

"Still, there are other tragedies to look back on."

Francis didn't know what Richard could be referring to but he nodded along knowing his friend always had his ways. When their turn was up, Richard wrote his name in his messy handwriting, although, as he double checked the log book, he noticed a familiar name he didn't expect.

"Since when was Camilla interested in sculpting? She never talked about it," he asked Francis while he wrote his name.

"Camilla? How strange," was all Francis replied. There was no betrayal of surprise which made Richard curious just what the Greeks were planning.

"Well Richard, I won't linger. I'll see you soon," he straightened his body and shot Richard a charming smile before making his way out the door.

He didn't see the waving hand but he did saw Richard awkwardly push his way away from the crowd to settle on the dark corner of the room where chairs were stacking up each other in a disorderly method. The brunette tried to look busy afterwards as he scroll endlessly on the phone he knew was quick to drain it's battery.

He received a call from Marion after an hour and a half saying in a breathless voice, "I'm outside with coffee for the both of us."

"It's a good thing you brought coffee. I was close to sulking, you know?" Richard jested when he finally faced Marion. He grabbed his cup from her and wasted no time downing the contents which earned him an irritated eye roll.

"You can't sulk," Marion reminded him, "We are at least even now."

"Alright," he shrugged.

"No seriously I too was fed up by your late replies but you don't see me whining like a baby."

"Alright alright," he raised his hands in mock surrender. "C'mon Marion, I don't use my phone that much."

"Well I can't just write letters to you like a lovesick teenager now, can't I?" she raised her brow in challenge. "The world keeps changing, Richard. Don't be so outdated. Besides, I won't risk shit just to keep contact with you."

Biggest tragedy, he muttered to himself with great annoyance. He knew what Marion meant though, knew too well in fact that even a small note for a Papen with her signature in it could cause rumors – love rumors specifically. It would sound hysterical to him but the others? Especially Bunny? Hell. That would sound like absolutely terrifying hell.

He didn't bothered looking offended, he knew Marion was no longer paying attention to him but had instead settled to staring ahead at the people coming and leaving the bar in front of them. Her thoughts were working inside her brain as she wondered how long had it been since she had a drink. A flash of a relaxing alternative of her life disturbed her. The unsettling question of wether the taxing part of leading her fellow colleagues was because of the unnecessary conflict between Hampden and CAL.

Except it shouldn't really matter to her, shouldn't it? Even if it was due to that, the battle was the only thing keeping the spirits up between them and that was the best thing that had happen since having to endure gossip of their pointless efforts and the dirt they bring to their family's reputation.

It was taxing, yes, but worth it. The question that should bother her was how the other team was holding up.

"Well, lets catch up for a moment, shall we?" she eased her face with a smile. "How are things going in your end?"

"Alright I suppose. I'm not that up to date with what's going on in my campus," Richard said with disinterest.

"How does that work? You contributed a lot in there."

"For my own benefit," he answered with finality.

Silence overcame them and as confusing Richard can get, Marion expected such answer from him.

"Well then," she said as she scratched off the icebreaker questions in her head, "–about what I was planning to tell you about, I wondered if you could do me a favor?"

"What is it now?"

"I wondered if you could stop James from distracting himself in your campus."

At hearing the request, Richard froze for a minute before bursting into a fit of laughter. "Stop him?" he was breathless but still went on. "How on earth do you expect me to do that?"

"I don't know," she pouted. "Just tell him to mind his damn business!"

"Seriously what's up with both of you? You know James never slacked off so why so concerned now?"

Marion didn't reply even when Richard repeated his question. She looked away, disturbed.

"Seriously shouldn't we be in a festive mood?" Richard sighed, rubbing his temple in exasperation.

"Well we shouldn't forget our responsibilities!" she answered quite defensively. "James… He was picked as Orpheus in our play but he skipped practice yesterday."

"Skipping practice?" Richard repeated doubtfully. "What for now?"

"If he's coming to CAL, it's probably because of Oliver," she replied with slight distaste. "Like before."

Despite wanting to laugh uncontrollably once more, Richard tried to suppress the laughter as to not be the outlet of Marion's distress. But the problem was still on the table, Richard didn't know how he could possibly stop James from bring distracted by Oliver when he, himself, wouldn't listen to a lengthy lecture of prioritizing one's responsibilities and all that talk. He wasn't like Marion in any account. In fact, he was just as guilty as James with all his after class hangouts with Henry and the rest.

Well maybe Oliver needs help that I can take care of, he thought. Or maybe this is not of my business.

"Do what you can, Richard," Marion begged. "Just tell him anything!"

"Alright alright!" he raised his hands in surrender. "Although this really shouldn't bother you. James has his own priorities and we all know acting is one of them. Trust him, Marion."

She weakly nodded and for once Richard let out a relieved sigh.

"I have to go now. I should prepare for my own troubles," Richard said as he stood up. His coffee was done minutes ago but he took his final sip before he shoot it on the trashcan a few feet away from him.

"The sculpting contest?" Marion asked.

"Yeah that."

The talk of inspirations with Francis made Richard acutely aware that he hadn't thought about it much. There was an idea when he first read the flyer but his mind has covered it with random facts he read from Tumblr and prompts he remembered in Pinterest. It was a jumbled place – his mind – and if he doesn't work on his sculpture now, then he might never find himself time.

"Ah well I wanted to ask you first!" Marion's voice called him just when he was about to make a turn towards his campus. He looked back with an impatient expression but Marion wasn't moved.

"What theme would your university follow?"

"Tragedy obviously," he scoffed.

"Nothing specific?" she tilted her head, unconvinced.

"Shakespearean or Victorian, take your pick."

If Richard was given a nickle every time Judy complained or jested about tragedy, he would be like Gatsby - earning his money fast. She would always wonder endlessly of what fun could spark from acting as fallen heroes or mourn about unrequited love.

"Is that tragedy? Unrequited love?" she asked to both Richard and Sophie when they gathered in the cafeteria one time.

It really depends.

"It could have been just heartbreak," Sophie answered her, "Or it could be tragic like Nana I guess."

"That should be our theme!" Judy exclaimed in all seriousness. "Tragic yuri!"

"Thought yuri was toxic? Tragic yaoi, you mean," Richard corrected which surprised him slightly that he was actually entertaining Judy's foolery.

"Ah who cares about men?"

"Careful–" Sophie jabbed Judy in her waist, "–we have a raging misogynist in our midst."

Richard glared at them and ultimately ignored their chatter.

Judy wasn't treating anything seriously. Richard at least knew the importance of the festival but Judy? She was doing anything but help out the rest in decorating or preparing for team-based competitions. Hell she hadn't even started sketching her costume design for her contest.

He wondered if she was serious with her suggestion – if the models she picked would be making out in the stage before one of them has to ultimately leave the other and 'Good Luck Babe' would start playing in the background as every queer people weep and collapse in despair in where they're seated. That's a new kind of low, he complained.

She could pull stunts that could ruin the entire festival for him. She would probably make fun of his sculpture just as she made fun of his Victorian tragedies.

"There are a lot of tragedies in history, Judy. You don't have to look that far."

"Yeah I'm not. I'm looking at the tragedy that happened in yesterday's lunch. Poor Coke dropped the pizza he saved for his lady just after their argument now look at them! Distant and unloved like your classical soap opera tale!"

"That is not tragedy. Coke could avoid all that if he didn't forget about the date they planned all week – I mean she planned since he couldn't use his mouth if it isn't for talking bullshit."

"You got a huge problem," she shook her head in disapproval.

"You need to think of a real tragedy! How about fall from grace? Or 'What was it all for'?"

"Would my grades dropping fall under fall from grace?"

"Fuck off Judy."

Judy was the problem not Richard. For her, the idea of stepping beyond the gate that added academic despair to one's economic struggles was suffering itself and could make a perfect competition to any Greek tragedies.

"You must be insane," she complained at the lack of agreement from her companion.

"How could studying be any worse than losing a lover from illness or war?" Richard retorted, his humor never aligning hers.

"Because one ended up losing themselves from unpaid tuition and failed exams. That's why."

He rolled his eyes at her answer especially when he knew full well how effortless her last exams went. It was true that college brought out everyone's urge to choke themselves with a sock but Richard couldn't exactly carry out the deed when he can think of better reasons to take his life for.

One, finishing the story of 'The Outsiders' would be more understandable. Two, stories from the hopeless romantic poets were worth killing others and themselves for.

Poetry.

That was CAL University's idea. Poetry written on the years when homophobia killed every person who wanted to identify themselves differently than what was socially acceptable, when wars took out 'cowardly' men who had families to take care of, and when love could only be written in letters and not spoken in political gatherings or theatrical plays in fear that they would lose their head.

He knew both schools would be taking inspiration from the past but Richard knew that one doesn't have to look that far to see the worst tragedies in Earth.

Gwendolyn was pleased by his suggestion. He should've expected it though.

Shakespeare tragedies were her ideas and although he was a Renaissance man, Richard thought their ideas aligned. He was leaning Victorian but why does the time period matter? Even now tragedies occurred after all.

"Listen I don't want to argue about suffering I mean who are we to rate how worst can one suffering be compared to the other, you get me?" Judy sighed in exasperation, clearly over with the misery talk.

He nodded in defeat and said with determination that Judy hadn't heard for a long time, "As long as we win this year's contests, then everything would be fine."

"I thought you weren't all that interested with the battle?" 

"It's unnecessary and a waste of time if there is no prize–" Richard pointed out which Judy found herself agreeing to, "–Plus I never specified any battles, Hampden isn't our only opponent in the festival games hell we aren't even a team."

"Oh shit you're not wrong. Thanks for reminding me Papen." He yelped when Judy's punched his elbow with laughter but couldn't help the smile in his lips as they continue walking.

"Whatever Judy,"

"So that's her name!" James exclaimed as he scrolled through Richard's Instagram posts.

"Who are we talking about?" Wren asked as she peeked in James' phone. "Is that Richard?"

"With a girl named Judy," he pointed at the ecstatic lady in the screen making silly poses in the background while wearing a colorful attire that needed three sets of clothes to accomplish. 

He's been wondering who she was ever since he saw her hanging out with Alexander yesterday. There was something familiar about her and that feeling was about to be confirmed in every posts he scrolled on Richard's feed.

Surprisingly enough, there were many selfies to scroll pass from. He knew Richard was a photographer but he associated that man as the type of person who was obsessed with the idea of a muse. Never did he considered the idea of him posting selfies in his instagram account. It was embarrassing to find him good-looking although he could always blame it on Richard's incredible angle ideas and lighting effects.

There could be ten million filters in this photo, the petty thought tempted him to send accusations in the comment section.

"Are they dating?" Wren asked when they stumbled on a confusing selfie of both of them with matching bracelets and drinks.

I don't think so, James thought but was too afraid to be corrected.

Before James could scroll pass that too, Wren tapped the captions with unfaltering interest.

Not my fault we outsold the Iliad ✌️

Judy posting! Richard doesn't want to admit it but he loves Gracie Adams as much as I do. We make the best duo don't we? See you next time in her next concert!

#datenight #gracieconcert #fanboy

"The fuck," both said in synchronization.

"Oh it's a tagged post!" Wren realized when both profiles were under the post. "Check the comments."

"On it."

richardkawaii: this was not a gracie adams concert stop spreading fake news

   -> thebadassgirlie: he did not deny his a fanboy chat.

   ->richardkawaii: @thebadassgirlie stfu

"Did not expect that honestly," Wren said at last after scrolling deeper into the comment section. "I always thought Richard has this unspoken hatred against pop."

"I think we are feeding his inner misteryoso," James sighed and finally closed his phone.

"You shouldn't have stalked him."

I was trying to find out who Judy was, he sulkily replied in his head. I didn't expect both of them to be close friends.

"Richard seems to be friends with everyone at this point, don't you think? I mean Judy and Henry? I vaguely heard both of them had a conflict once at a bar," Wren looked up at the ceiling as she tried to recall it, a habit she shared with Richard Sterling that had became the sole similarity both cousins have. She was telling it the way she remembered it but James was only half-listening. He looked at the blank screen and pondered deeply about Wren's observation of Richard.

He might even be friends with Oliver.

He never thought about that.

"I feel kind of bad for Spike honestly but then again I'm not entirely sure what happened. I forgot who was fist fighting the other. Did Charles acted first? Was it Spike? When Charles fall back, was that when Henry attacked?"

Registering Henry's name, James bristled unknowingly. "It was probably a pointless fight. It shouldn't have escalated."

"That's what they said!" Wren perked up at James comment. "You must've known about it. I didn't expect it to be that famous."

I don't, James sighed, but I also don't care.

"Do you think Richard is a people pleaser?" James asked Wren which she chuckled at, her facing shifting to a confused expression while still maintaining her awkward smile.

"I think he's an asslicker to certain, incredibly specific people."

Wren laughed at the grimace James showed as he listened to her answer.

"That sounds true enough," he cleared his throat awkwardly before facing Wren with a troubled face. "Do you think he befriended Oliver too?"

She looked at him skeptically before facing the roof once more. "Sure I guess. I won't be surprised knowing Richard is a cousin of Pip and a friend of Alexander. Both of them probably introduced Richard to him or something."

The answer was left with a questioning undertone which James caught like a hawk. He probed Wren with the desperation of a predator who knew how high of a competition Richard could be if he let him stay familiar with his closest friend.

"Is there any reason for them not to be in good terms?"

"I wouldn't know. They're kind of smiliar in an unsettling way. I don't think they'd want to be so close with each other."

"It's probably for the best that they aren't close friends," James commented which earned a raised brow from Wren. 

"We'll see about that, James," she smiled knowingly.