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For her fourth year in the Canaan University Theater Program, Gideon Nav was supposed to write, produce, and perform an original play in exactly ten weeks. As she had never been one for playwriting, she didn’t care much when she missed the third meeting for an eye appointment, the fourth for her weekly ballet class, the fifth after she accidentally set a fire in her dorm building, forcing everyone and Harrow to evacuate, the sixth spent pranking Harrow’s dorm room, and the seventh, eight, ninth, having explosive and repetitive arguments with Harrow herself. When she showed up to the tenth meeting, she was only partly shocked when a freshly printed script was thrown her way.
Gideon riffled through the warm packet, eyebrows raised. “What’s up with the self insert?”
They had booked one of the dressing rooms for their meeting, so her group was spread out across couches and on tables. She had a lot of good memories in this room from the numerous plays she had been in over the past four years. Sophomore year, she’d partaken in a very sexy makeout session against one of the mirrors in this room. Last year, during Much aDo About Nothing, she had taken part in a very deep conversation with Cam and Dulcie on the floor. There were also dozens of memories of eating greasy fast food french fries between scenes, cramming as many people as possible onto the couches, and laughing over that production’s inside jokes.
“I thought it would differentiate us from the others,” Said Corona, bringing her out of her reverie.
“Collaboration.” Cam said from Palamedes’s side.
“Riight.”
Gideon flipped through a couple of the pages, not really reading, but taking in the warmth of a new script, and the varying lengths of sentences. She was satisfied to see that there were a decent amount of monologues.
“You would know that already if you had actually shown up at any of the meetings.” Grumbled Naberius Tern.
“Oh do shut up, Babs.” Said a twin warmly.
He made a face but stuck his nose back into his own script.
Gideon leaned against a counter. “Soo what did we end up writing this baby about? Please don’t tell me we landed on the sinking submarine idea.”
Palamedes pushed up his glasses and huffed. “No, Gideon, we didn’t. After what happened, we decided to go in a different direction.”
Gideon didn’t know what “What happened” meant, but with the theater people, it could be anything. Maybe Ianthe told everyone she had a blood kink, and they decided to do it about vampires, or maybe Judith finally asked Corona out and it was about repressed lesbians. Who knew. Gideon had muted the discord a week ago, which had conveniently allowed her to skip almost every playwriting session. She’d put her all into acting anyways.
She flipped to the first page again. She vaguely remembered everyone agreeing to skip auditions and just write themselves roles they could commit to and succeed in. When she found the pagecast list, her eyes zeroed in on her name, and she grinned.
“Ah sick, you made me the protag.”
Gideon had only gotten a taste at being the lead, but she was gearing up to dominate the theater this year. This, obviously, would be the beginning of her tirade.
“Yes and-” Started Corona, but then the door burst open.
“Sextus!” Yelled Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Nemesis and Drama Queen, slamming the door open in a flurry of black fabric and chains. “This is NOT what we agreed upon!”
It seemed that Harrow had gotten to the script before her. Gideon leaned back and watched the room with the cool interest of a bystander.
Palamedes sighed and started wiping his glasses on his shirt. “It has the same themes, and takes place in the same world, but yes, I will admit to changing character dynamics.”
Harrow was positively fuming as she paced around the dressing room. “Changing?! Character Dynamics?!” She said, thumping the script into the air at every word, “You have turned my commentary on imperialism and abuse into… into a cliche teen romance novel!”
Gideon glanced back at her script, amused. Harrow was probably mad about Gideon being the lead and having a hot love inter…
Right under ‘Gideon Nav as swordswoman Gideon Nav,’ was ‘Harrowhark Nonagesimus as necromancer, scion, and love interest Harrowhark Nonagesimus.’
She gave herself three seconds to decide whether to take Harrow’s side and be angry about their pairing up, or to give Harrow a big ‘fuck you’ and choose Palamedes, even though it would inevitably screw her over in the end.
It wasn’t a hard choice.
“What’s the problem, Nonagesimus?” She crooned. “Scared of what being my love interest will do to you?”
Harrow shot her a heated, angry look, then turned back to Palamedes. “It’s not even about you casting us as… romantic interests,” She said through gritted teeth, in a tone that made it obvious it was exactly about that. “It’s about you… mangling my creative vision and turning it into something more mainstream and consumable! It’s supposed to be a heavy and dark piece about sacrifice, loss of childhood, religious brainwashing, and fighting against imperialist empires! Your romance sullies my themes!”
Palamades slipped his glasses back on, then turned to face the rest of the room, which had been watching with a mixture of uncomfort, annoyance, and amusement. “We all decided this story served our interests best. If you had been at the last five meetings,” He said, looking at both Harrow and Gideon, “Then you would have been able to partake in the discussion. Unfortunately, it’s too late for that. Camilla, schedule?”
Cam, who had been hovering at his side, took out an intense and color coded schedule. “The first nine days were allocated to brainstorming and writing of said script.” She read monotonously. “The next five will be focused on memorization and finalizing the songs with the help of Magnus Quinn,” Gideon, who had been attentively listening for once, startled at her father’s name. She hadn’t known he was helping write songs for her senior project. Fuck, she hadn’t even known it was a musical. She probably shouldn’t have skipped so many meetings. “Who will also be performing in our play, along with Dulcie’s caretaker Protesilaus Ebdoma, Gideon’s mother Abigail Pent, and freshmen Isaac Tettares and Jeannemary Chatur. We have also asked the President of the University to step in as God for the final scene, but he has not gotten back to us yet.”
Gideon really needed to read the script. God?
“Today will be a read through, and the next four days will be either spent memorizing, or working with Magnus and Palamedes to finalize tunes. Any deviation from the schedule will result in a shortened tech week.” Camilla said. “We don’t want that.” She made sure to look everyone in the eyes, with a hard, cold look.
“So there isn’t any time to change anything.” Palamedes said with a note of finality. “Let's take five, then we can get back on track and read through.”
Gideon funneled out of the room with everyone else, until she felt a sharp tug on her sleeve.
“You cannot be okay with this.” Enunciated Harrowhark, pulling her away from the crowd. Gideon looked wildly back at it, she could have sworn she saw Silas approaching Palamedes and wanted desperately to eavesdrop on that conversation. But, alas, there was a small goth bat attached to her sleeve.
“What? Me being the main character? Nah, I’m totally cool with that.”
Harrowhark hissed, see bat, and flipped through her script wildly. “The romance plotline! Palamedes is pulling something on us, I swear. No one writes an enemies to lovers plotline for two real life nemeses if they aren’t trying something.”
Gideon warmed at the idea of Harrow also considering them nemeses. “Isn’t it nemesi?” She asked, just to be a bitch.
Harrow ignored her and started ranting. Again, she was pacing, which was making Gideon vaguely dizzy. “We’re going to have to spend the next eight and a half weeks slowly falling in love again and again. I don’t know how I’m going to handle not pulverizing you.”
Gideon leaned back on the counter. “You said it was enemies to lovers right? So just channel that energy into the enemies portion. If you can’t pretend to like me for a couple of scenes, then you really shouldn’t call yourself an actor, Harrow.” She said, then booped her enemy with her rolled up script and left the room.
Nothing was more satisfying than the frustrated growl that followed her wake.
Gideon waved to Corona, who was holding court with Judith, Marta, Ianthe and Babs, but didn’t go over to join them. Instead she found a bench in the lobby and started reading.
Gideon the Ninth: The Musical
Set in the world of the hit series, The Locked Tomb, Gideon the Ninth addresses what happens ten thousand years into God and his Lyctor’s (which The Locked Tomb series focuses on) reign. The story follows two enemies, the devout Reverend Daughter and necromancratic heir of the Ninth House (If you haven’t read the series, you’ll pick up terminology eventually) and the sole other child of her generation, an outsider since birth, Gideon Nav, who’s goals consist of getting away from the Ninth, fighting with her two hander, and meeting hot women. All three will be achieved in the course of this play.
While the story alludes to prior events of the hit series, it’s a complete standalone and the themes of imperialism, faith, classism, sacrifice, and love will hopefully be discernible without prior knowledge of the series. The story is part social commentary, part badass sword fighting (note to self, get Gideon and Cam to teach the ‘cavaliers’ to fight), part unabashed queerness, part creepy gross weird horror in the form of necromancy. It is fully about love and it’s different forms and how it can save and doom us.
Hope you enjoy, class of ‘21 seniors
Cast List:
Gideon Nav as swordswoman, Gideon Nav
Harrowhark Nonagesimus as necromancer, scion, and love interest Harrowhark Nonagesimus
The Theater Teacher as Teacher
(note to self, ask if he can)
Judith Deuteros as scion of the 2nd, Judith Dueteros
Marta Dyas as cavalier Marta Dyas
Cornabeth Tridentarius as scion of the 3rd, Cornabeth Tridentarius
Ianthe Tridentariusscion of the 3rd, Ianthe Tridentarius
Naberius Tern as cavalier Naberius Tern
Isaac Tettares as scion of the 4th, Isaac Tettares
Jeannemary Chatur as cavalier Jeannemary Chatur
Abigail Pent as scion of the 5th, Abigail Pent
Magnus Quinn as cavalier Magnus Quinn
Palamades Sextus as scion of the 6th, Palamades Sextus
Camilla Hect as cavalier Camilla Hect
Dulcinea Septimus as Lyctor Cytherea
(If you have read the series, I hope you’re gasping at this moment)
Protesilaus Ebdoma as cavalier Protesilaus Ebdoma
Silas Octakiseron as scion of the 8th Silas Octakiseron
(note to self, find backup in case he gets too offended)
Colum Asht as cavalier Colum Asht
God as President John Gaius
(note to self, send someone to go bother him about this)
Song list (not final):
Attempt Number 87: Gideon
Completely Fucking Hate You: Gideon/Harrow
Lyctorhood!: All
Inside You: Harrow ft Gideon
Someone’s Dead: Necromancers
Let Me, Let You, Use Me: Gideon
Stay with Me: ‘Dulcinea’
I Need You: Ianthe/Corona
Stay Alive: Jeannemary/Isaac
Turning points (remix of 3 previous songs): Mixed cast
Completely Fucking Hate You (reprise): Gideon/Harrow
INTERMISSION
The Tale of the Ninth: Silas
A Dying Woman's Confession: ‘Dulcinea’ ft everyone
Tale of the Ninth (reprise): Harrow
One Flesh One End: Gideon/Harrow
Lyctorhood! (reprise): Ianthe ft everyone
What Had To Be Done: Judith
A Dying Woman's Confession (reprise): Cytherea
Go Loud: Camilla/Palamedes
Let Me, Let You, Use Me (reprise): Gideon
One Flesh One End (reprise): Gideon/Harrow
10,000 Years: Harrow/God
Gideon got as far as the song list, which she stared at for probably three minutes after counting 8 solos and duets, before Camilla called everyone back into the dressing room.
This time, everyone settled in for the long run, including Harrow, though she still looked incredibly against the whole production. Well too bad for her. Gideon finally got her main role, with 8 fucking solos and duets!, so she wasn’t letting anything, or anyone, ruin that.
“Let’s start at the beginning.” Said Palamades, with the self satisfied smile of someone who had written an incredibly complex musical/work of fanfiction in the span of less than ten days.
Week Two (continued)
Gideon Nav woke up genuinely excited.
They hadn’t been able to finish the read through before half of the cast had to leave for various other engagements (not to mention how six members of their cast weren’t even there), but what they had read was exciting. Her character was witty, she was funny, she was so fucking gay. Not saying that she had only played straight characters over her University career, but she had only played straight characters. For an industry that was supposedly so queer, most plays were incredibly straight and boring. She had to hand it to Palamedes, he had really peaked her interest.
They had decided that, since she had the most scenes and songs, they’d try to get everyone else’s songs over with first, leaving her ample time to memorize. And when everyone else’s songs were done, there would be lots of time left to work on her tunes.
She wasn’t super looking forward to spending hours at a time in her father’s choir room with only Harrow for company, but as long as she put it out of her mind, there was a lot to be excited for.
Next week was mostly blocking and trying to get the characters down, but then she’d start choreographing sword fights with Cam, and then they should be in the swing of things. Rehearsals would be hours upon hours, but as long as everyone was a good sport about it, and was having fun, it should be a breeze.
Of course, at this point, she remembered that Harrowhark Nonagesimus existed and all of her optimism went out the window. To put her mind off of it, she decided to start memorizing.
Two hours into pacing her dorm room, repeating her lines, Gideon’s phone buzzed.
“What is it.” She droned. The only person who ever called her was Ianthe. Apparently texting was below her. That made the time Gideon had glanced at Harrow’s phone and saw two dozen texts from Ianthe highly questionable, though.
“We’re getting pancakes and my good sister wanted to include you.” Ianthe said breezily. “We’re outside your dorm, so get out here or don’t.”
Gideon sighed, but slipped into her crocs and grabbed her wallet. “Be down in five.”
“You better.” Said Ianthe and hung up.
Gideon raced down the stairs so fast, that she barely noticed Harrow before bulldozing right into her.
Unfortunately, they had both been assigned to the same student housing building their first year, and neither of them had the funds to find student housing elsewhere. It made fucking with Harrow easier, but then moments like these happened and she wished she had gotten on Dulcie, Pal, and Cam’s lease, no matter how weird sexual tension was there.
“Idiot.” Was all Harrow said, as she seperated herself from Gideon. “You never look where you're going.” She scowled.
Gideon just kinda shrugged, not confirming or denying, then said, “Hey, a bunch of us are getting pancakes. I bet Palamedes will like it if we do some ‘co-lead bonding’ or whatever.”
Harrow dusted herself off then said, “Ianthe already invited me.”
“Oh. Right.” She rubbed her neck. “After you then?”
Harrow walked out of the doors, and Gideon followed her. It was all so incredibly awkward.
Outside, Corona was blasting the radio and was wearing a tank top that showed off her beautifully toned arms and her full package. Gideon knew better than to get into that mess again, but she couldn’t help winking at her as she passed the driver’s window.
“Gideon you flirt,” Said Corona, turning around to assess their seatbelts. Gideon had been unfortunately smacked right between Babs and Harrow. When everyone had buckled, Corona grinned and accelerated out of the parking lot.
Gideon was too cheap to own a car, but she loved the thrill of blasting music and going seventy in a fifty zone. She loved Corona’s erratic driving, the wide open windows, the faint smell of sweat, weed, and perfume. She wished she was in the passenger seat, sticking her head out of the window like a dog, but she could still appreciate the light breeze playing with her hair from the back.
“Can you put down the music!” Yelled Babs over whatever banging rock Corona was playing. “I’m trying to memorize my lines!”
Ianthe made eye contact with him in the rearview mirror, and turned it up.
Babs probably cursed something under his breath, but really, it served him right.
They got to the pancake place in no time, and unloaded like the college students they were. Everyone, with the exception of Harrow, was dressed like they were clinging to the last scraps of summer. Gideon had her sunglasses on her head, her cut up jean shorts, and a tank top with a skull on it that had gaping arm holes. Corona had a giant ponytail of blonde hair, a neon pink tank top that matched Ianthe’s unseemly neon yellow one, and a small tennis skirt. Ianthe wore the same getup, but worse. Even Babs wore flip flops, jean shorts, and a terrible crop top. In comparison Harrow looked like she was a nun from a bad film. Or a nun from their play. Palamedes had done a great job with his type casting.
They all slid into a sticky vinyl booth and immediately ordered a round of coffee and house speciality pancakes. Naberius was somehow smacked between the twins, which meant they took every chance they could to disturb his memorization. Harrow and Gideon had ended up on the same side, but Harrow had pressed herself against the wall. So much for coc-lead bonding.
“Soo, how are your lines going?” Asked Corona, attempting a sugar packet pyramid on Babs’ script.
Gideon shrugged. “Not bad. I think I have the first few scenes half memorized. I can’t get them all the way down till I start working with Harrow though.”
She gave Harrow a look, and was met with a frown.
“I’m already halfway memorized.” Announced Harrow. “I could perform the first act with Griddle now, but of course, she’d have to use her script.”
Okay if that was how it was going to be. Gideon had tried playing nice, but if Harrow wouldn’t cooperate, then she could give up the act.
“Yeah well you’ll probably have a terrible time with the second half. You have to pretend to be in love, you see, and I don’t think you’ve ever loved anyone in your life.” Someone sharply inhaled, but all Gideon could do was focus on Harrow’s dark, terrible eyes. “You don’t even have to act in the beginning, you’re that much of a little bitch. But the second part? Palamedes might as well replace you now.”
Harrow narrowed her eyes and straightened her back, utilizing her full height of five foot two. “You’re going to make a fool of yourself, Griddle.” She said in a quiet, calm voice. “You can’t act to save your life. Palamedes only gave you this role because you’ll never be a main character ever again, and he wants to mend your heart before it breaks into a million pieces.” She sniffed. “Or maybe he just wants us to resolve our conflict so I can reach my full potential the rest of the year.” She took a sip of her water, then looked back at Gideon. “Jokes on him.” She laughed. “You aren’t holding me back. In fact, I barely even think about you. The second you’re out of my periphery, I forget you exist.”
Then she turned to face Ianthe. Like that proved her point.
Corona gave her a little clap. “That was a wonderful Harrowhark impression.” She frowned prettily. “The character I mean. Oh, that’s going to get confusing isn’t it. I just thought it would be easier than thinking of new names. Hmph.”
“I wasn’t acting.” Harrow said, a little heated now.
Ianthe raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure you quoted the script, Harry darling.”
“I wasn’t! Nav, tell them.”
Gideon just gaped at Harrow and shook her head.
She couldn’t follow the rest of their conversation after that. Instead, she couldn’t help but think about how flustered that had made her. She had never thought that Harrow was attractive or anything but… well it had been a bit hot. Nothing got her going like a girl calmly abusing her.
Week Two (continued)
Gideon walked up to the Fine Arts building at the exact same time that Harrow got dropped off.
They didn’t acknowledge each other, just walked side by side until they got to the choir room. At a couple points, Harrow tried to speed up to lose her, but Gideon matched her speed.
You know. Nemesis things.
When they came in, Magnus greeted them with a huge grin. “Gideon! Harrow! It’s been too long.”
Gideon rolled her eyes, but let her dad hug her. “We had dinner on Friday night.” She said.
“Then I was talking to Harrow.” He said and pecked her cheek.
Harrow looked uncomfortable under his gaze. Gideon couldn’t remember the last time her father and Harrow talked, either. Maybe freshman year before their friendship ruining fight? Or twelfth grade, when they were still friends and would dream about going to University together. Thinking about it made her uncomfortable, so she stopped.
“We thought we’d start with your pivotal songs and go from there,” Magnus said, when no one said anything. “Palamedes is in the next room, let’s go join him.”
When Gideon was nine years old, she had seen her father write songs, and had decided she wanted to as well. She had enlisted her best friend Harrow to help, and they had written a ballad about their stuffed animal’s adventures. Her mother had made them perform at their annual holiday party. The next year, Gideon and Harrow had been enlisted in their school play.
Now, she felt incredibly out of her depth. Harrow had written and self published a couple of songs over the years to Spotify, and Palamedes had studied music theory since high school. She hadn’t even been in choir since her freshman year and had stopped private voice lessons long before that. She sang, sure, but it was just learning to mimic others. What they were doing here was an entirely different beast; creation, manipulation, and character exposition. This was why she had skipped the writing sessions. She felt entirely out of her depth.
Still, she sang what they gave her to sing, and commented when something wasn’t in her range. Other than that, she found herself spacing out.
For some reason, she couldn’t stop staring at Harrow. Harrow was wearing a black cardigan, dark purple dress and heavy combat boots. She had recently cut her hair, so it was curling at her neck, and she kept playing with it. She was very focused on their task, which was a nice look on her. Her eyes would lock on whoever was talking or singing, and her eyebrows would crease when she was thinking hard about something. When she figured out a line or note, her lips would part, ready to chime in, and her hands would illustrate her words. Gideon wondered where this Harrow had been all of these years.
“Gideon, are you still here with us?” Magnus asked after an indeterminate time. Gideon didn’t want to tell her dad, ‘Actually I spaced out forever ago, sorry,’ though he probably already knew. Instead she shook her head like she was clearing it and put on her ‘paying attention’ face again. Magnus just laughed and kissed her forehead. “I think that’s enough for today, don’t y’all?”
Palmades probably agreed, because the next thing she knew, she was walking next to Harrow, who was studying her intently.
“What?” She asked wearily.
“Nothing.” Harrow said quickly, then scurried off in the opposite direction, even though Gideon knew she was also going back to their dorm.
Gideon sighed and stepped out into the early September heat.
Week Three
Dulcinea picked her up for their first real rehearsal.
“How are you feeling?” She asked, passing her a cup of coffee as Gideon slid into the passenger seat.
“Too early.” She groaned and slid down her seat. When they didn’t move for a couple of minutes, she opened her eyes and asked, “What are we still doing here?”
“Waiting for Harrow.” Dulcie said, giving her a sidelong glance. “There she is!”
The backseat door opened and Harrow got in. Dulcie passed her a cup of coffee, then pulled out of the parking lot. She also had a reckless streak when it came to driving, she had once taken Gideon drag racing, but it seemed like it was too early in the morning for anything like that.
“I’m so excited to play the villain.” Dulcie said with a bright smile, changing lanes. “Especially one so sweet.”
Gideon grinned up at her. Since most of the play oriented either around Dulcie’s character, or Harrow and Gideon, they were starting with those scenes today. “I’m excited to act infatuated by you.”
“Oh will it even be acting, my dearest Gideon?”
They burst into before-eight-o'clock-giggles, and Harrow groaned from the back.
“What’s wrong Harrow?” Dulcie asked. “Anxious I’m stealing your lady love from you?”
Gideon forgot sometimes that they were friends. Dulcie was the nicest person around and Harrow was… not. Well Harrow was probably nicer than Silas, but just barely. Sometimes she wondered why Silas and Harrow weren’t friends. They were both annoying, both short, both religious fanatics, though Palamedes also added ‘reformed’ after Harrow’s fanaticism. Gideon didn’t really buy it; she still saw Harrow’s cross under her layers of clothing, still saw her mouthing prayers sometimes. Still, none of that seemed to bother Dulcie, even though she was as nonreligious as you could be.
“Shut up.” Harrow groaned. Gideon glanced back to see she was wearing sunglasses and curled up in a ball. “Shut up both of you.”
“Did someone go drinking last night?” Gideon asked, eyebrows raised. She hadn’t thought she had it in her.
Harrow glared at her. “No. I was up late last night memorizing.”
“Don’t stay up too late.” Dulcie said, her voice light, but serious. “You need to take better care of yourself.”
“Mmmhmm.” Harrow said, and pulled her legs in tighter.
“Seriously,” Dulcie said, waving a hand at Gideon. “If she starts pulling this shit again, it’s your duty as co-lead to stop her. Promise me?”
Gideon promised, but couldn’t help but be surprised. She remembered Harrow pulling all-nighters in high school, trying to get as much work done as possible, but she hadn’t realized it had continued into college. It was funny how well you could know someone for years, and how it could all disappear in the blink of an eye.
Or maybe not. She had known about Harrow’s all nighters, afterall.
Week Three (continued)
They weren’t getting anywhere.
“You have to stop making so many faces!” Palamedes yelled for the tenth time.
Gideon dropped her hands from Harrow’s face and took a step back.
“I’m not doing it.” She grumbled, wanting to be absolved of Harrow’s face crimes.
She heard Palamedes mutter something under his breath, then the sound of him running up to the stage.
“Harrow,” He said, eyebrows furrowed. “You just confessed your biggest secret to Gideon. You can’t look like you’re covered in bugs and/or constipated.”
“Shouldn’t I look uncomfortable?” Harrow said, incredibly indigent, for someone who had been failing all practice long. “Afterall, I’ve just confessed my biggest sin to my mortal enemy.”
Palamedes pressed his hands into his eyes, he must have taken his glasses off without Gideon noticing. “No. She’s not your mortal enemy right now. She’s the girl you’re in love with. You’re making that face again!”
Gideon looked over, and yeah, she was. Harrow looked immensely uncomfortable every time someone said she was in love with Gideon. Acting it out was even worse.
“How about me?” She said, to lighten the mood. “I looked perfectly lovey dovey, didn't I?”
Palamedes just groaned and walked away. “We can’t run this scene again until you can do better!” He yelled over his shoulder. “Take a break! In the meantime we’ll work on Dulcie and I’s scene.”
There was exactly one scene that barely involved Gideon and that was it. She stood, stretched out her back, then offered her hand to help Harrow up. Harrow didn’t accept it.
“This is your problem, you know.” Gideon said, once they were off the stage.
Harrow glared up at her. “What?”
“You can’t act normal around me. Like at all. I get that we hate each other,” Though Gideon wasn’t even sure if that was true on her end anymore, “But we’re doing this. We’re wayyy too deep to give up now. So you have to suck it up and act like you like me. Or else.”
Harrow sounded weary when she said. “Or else what?”
Gideon, brilliant genius, amazing brain, smartest person in the room, said, “Or else I won’t leave you alone. I’ll follow you around everywhere and annoy you into being friends with me. That’s what.”
Harrow just gave her a skeptical look.
Later, when they performed Gideon’s death scene, Harrow could barely hold back a grimace. Her voice sounded fine, but her body was stiff and her face uncomfortable.
So that was how it had to be then, Gideon thought.
She wasn’t even mad about it.
Week Four
Luckily, Gideon had already memorized Harrow’s schedule in order to both prank her room and avoid her at all costs, so it was very easy to find her first class of the day and wait outside of it.
Harrow exited with her eyes trained on her phone, barely even noticing Gideon until she bumped into her. Then she jumped, almost dropping her phone.
“Woah there!” Gideon said, catching her. Harrow flinched dramatically. “You have to stop doing that.”
“What are you doing here?” Harrow asked, looking around as if they were about to get caught doing something nefarious.
A couple people spared them a glance, one person even did a double take at Gideon and she had to restrain herself from flexing her biceps, but no one seemed to care that they were talking.
“You can’t stop acting weird around me. It’s ruining your performance. So we’re going to spend some good ol’ quality time together.” Gideon said with a grin.
Harrow frowned at her. “I thought that was a joke.”
“Nope!” Gideon said, popping the P. “You normally get lunch next, so let’s go to the caf, yeah?” She didn’t wait for Harrow to answer, instead starting towards the cafeteria, only glancing back once to see if she was following (she wasn’t; she was just standing there looking confused). After that, though, Harrow sidled up next to her and they walked in (almost) companionable silence.
In the dining hall, Gideon ate her food and watched as Harrow barely ate. She hadn’t grabbed enough to begin with, and now was pushing it around like that would fool her.
“You know I was there when you fainted in eleventh grade, right?” Gideon asked. “Eat.”
Harrow glared at her but finished most of her food.
Harrow had a meeting with her advisor next, so Gideon walked her there, opened the door, and waved her off. Then she ran off because she was already a minute late to her afternoon class.
Harrow was shocked to see her after her meeting. “How did you know when it ended?” She asked, looking at her through long lashes.
Gideon, who was pretending that staring at Harrow’s eyelashes wasn’t a thing she did now apparently, huffed. “You aren’t subtle about your schedule. You talk about literally all of your classes and meetings at rehearsal. There were a couple gaps I had to fill, but Palamedes easily did that for me.”
“Because he’s supposed to know our schedules.” She said, eyebrows furrowed. They were walking side by side now, so Gideon had to keep glancing back and forth between the path ahead of her, and at Harrow’s profile to parse out her expressions. “As our director.” Harrow finished.
“Yeah, but he doesn’t need to know every single detail. Look, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, I’m just saying it would be very easy to stalk you.”
“Oh, is that what this is?” Harrow asked dully.
“Noooo. I am simply fulfilling my duties as co-lead and trying to make things less weird at rehearsal. I wouldn’t have to do this if you stopped flinching so much.”
Harrow flinched again. “You noticed that?”
“Everyone and their mom. Yeah Harrow, it’s really obvious when your love interest actually hates being touched by you.” When she didn’t respond, Gideon started to get panicky. “Wait, do you hate being touched? I mean, we used to like… touch a lot.” She blushed. “But I haven’t seen anyone touch you in awhile. Is that because you have different boundaries now?”
Harrow stopped walking and glared at her, though it was only half heartedly. “No. It’s fine. I just need to… suppress it.”
She started walking again, quicker, and Gideon had to jog to keep up.
“Ookay. The word suppress is never good. How about, I don’t know, we talk about it instead? What is it, for starters.”
Harrow gave her side glance. “You know.”
“No, I most definitely don’t. What is it?”
Harrow kept walking. By this time they were almost at their dorm, and Gideon knew she’d lose her there.
She grabbed her arm and Harrow flinched again.
“Why do you keep doing that!” She growled.
Harrow closed her eyes and took a deep breath in. She looked resigned to her fate as she started talking. “You were right. I have a hard time coping when you touch me. Not because of any boundaries you’re crossing, though. It’s just… Ianthe!” She yelled, because of course Ianthe was driving by just then. “Ianthe, can you take me home?” She asked, like an insane person.
No matter how bad things got between them, no one should ever go to Ianthe as an escape.
Still, Ianthe stopped her car and watched with an amused expression as Harrow climbed in.
“We’re going to the same place!” Gideon yelled. “I’ll see you there!”
But when she arrived at the dorm, sweaty and tired, Harrow had locked herself in her room and, like the paranoid over-thinker she was, had put a towel in the crack of her doorway so Gideon couldn’t even slip a note underneath.
She kicked the door, then went to her room to sulk. After a bit of throwing things, she did her math homework, went over some lines, and got ready to go to ballet.
She couldn’t stop thinking about what to do about Harrow though, all through the barre, and then across the floor. She almost smacked into someone during piqués. On the bus home, she created a plan. And God, was it going to suck.
Week Four (continued)
Gideon knocked on Corona’s door. She opened it wearing a flimsy nightgown that made Gideon swallow hard.
“I need your help.” She said, staring into those lavender eyes.
Corona raised an eyebrow, a smile beginning on her lips.
Week Four (continued)
“Where is everyone else?” Harrow asked, entering the black box. They tried to practice in the theater as much as possible, but at the moment, another group was using it, and anyways this was better for her purposes.
“They aren’t coming.” Said Gideon from her chair.
Harrow dropped her bag. “Is rehearsal cancelled? We only have 63 days left.”
“Oh my God, you have a countdown?” Harrow gave her a look like ‘who doesn’t?’ or more accurately ‘and so should you’.
“Anyways, doesn’t matter, they aren’t coming, because we aren’t getting anywhere right now. We’ve had to spend the last couple days focusing on every scene that doesn’t have you in it, because newsflash, you can’t goddamn stop flinching! You’d think that would be helpful in our enemy scenes, but no, you’re supposed to be the one with power there. So I got Corona to lock us in the black box, and we aren’t leaving till you solve this problem.”
“You what?! I have an advisor meeting after rehearsal.”
“Okay one, the fact that you think it’s going to take us hours to resolve this hurts. And two, Ianthe will cancel it if we aren’t out in time. God, Harrow. I thought you wanted this to be a good play.” Gideon said, and couldn’t help the bitter disappointment that laced her voice.
Harrow did the most unexpected thing then, and collapsed to the floor crying.
It had been awhile since Gideon had dealt with a crying Harrow.
She hadn’t cried during their final fight as friends, no, she had been positively murderous then, but she had cried afterwards, when Gideon had shown up at her dorm room with all of the things Harrow had given her over the years. Gideon had cried when collecting them, but she knew it was better to get rid of Harrow’s shit then, rather than later.
When she had arrived with her things, Harrow had been so devastated that Gideon had almost thought about taking it all back. ‘I didn’t mean it’, she’d say. ‘I want to be friends again.’ But then Harrow had done what she always did, and shut down when Gideon tried to comfort her, and she had known things were never going to get better.
Now Harrow was crying in the black box and Gideon was probably the source of it.
“Um.” She said. “Okay.”
She knelt down besides Harrow and stayed there until the worst of her sobs were gone. “You have to tell me what’s bothering you. Or I can’t help you.” She said in the softest voice she could muster.
Harrow wiped away her tears and said through a snoggy throat, “You wouldn’t have happened to grab some tissues for this hellhole prison, would you?”
Gideon shook her head and Harrow pulled out an already snotty handkerchief.
“I was so close.” Harrow said after a while, in a tone that could almost be aloof, if not for the slight sob in her voice. “I was going to graduate and never see you again.”
“Harsh.” Said Gideon, but it was mostly a joke.
“Then we had to have all of those fights, when we should have been working with the others, and Palamedes had to get fed up. He called me after the third day I missed, and said that if I didn’t resolve things with you, he was going to do something drastic. I didn’t believe him of course. This play was supposed to be our baby, our legacy at Canaan. I didn’t think he’d ruin it for something so petty as… our conflict.” She paused to blow her nose. “I guess I should believe people when they give me ultimatums more often. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” She said, sounding more tired than she had any right to be.
Gideon thought about that. Sure, they were here because Gideon had promised to follow her around and Harrow hadn’t believed her, but they were also here because Gideon had given her an ultimatum three years ago and Harrow had brushed it off.
“So? What is there to resolve? Because I thought everything was fine. Bad, but fine.” Gideon said, looking up. She had been studying her jorts up until then, thinking Harrow’s wet face was too pitiful, but now she had to see what shapes her ex best friend’s expressions took on.
“Before… before the ultimatum.” Harrow said pensively. “I had something important to tell you. I had thought then, that our relationship was just going through a rocky patch. I hadn’t realized how bad it was until afterwards. Still, I thought my… confession would help. Then you gave me the ultimatum and I brushed it off. When you brought it up again, it was too late to tell you. We were already two broken things, a pottery set that couldn’t be repaired again.”
Gideon felt herself getting frustrated. “What does that mean, Harrow?”
“I loved you.” Harrow said simply. “Not just platonically, though you know I loved you like that too. No. I was in love with you. Our whole relationship was twisted, too codependent, too argumentative, too hot and cold, but I still loved you like you were the last person on a dying planet. I loved you so much that I thought it would destroy me. Then we stopped being friends, and it did destroy me.”
“So what?” Gideon said, her voice breaking slightly. They were still both on the floor, barely three inches apart. She felt like something terrible was unfurling around her, except it had always been there and she was just too dumb to notice it. “Palamedes wrote this so you could process some old feelings?”
Harrow rubbed at her eyes, and yeah, they were filled with tears. Gideon hadn’t even noticed.
“No you fucking dumbass.” She hissed. “I never stopped loving you. Not through the fights and the glitter bombs and the sabotage. I still fucking love you and it’s tearing me apart.”
Gideon stared at her for a full minute, then yelled, “Corona!”
She heard the click of the lock and ran out of there as quickly as she could.
Week Five
“Oh for fucksake!” Yelled Palamedes, to both everyone’s surprise and nonsurprise. “How are you both doing it now!”
Gideon almost yelled back, “This is your fucking fault! You should have let lying bears lie,” but then she realized that wasn’t how the expression went, and that she couldn’t remember the real expression, and that didn’t want to embarrass herself further.
Week Five (continued)
“You just left her?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Gideon you know that’s really fucking dumb, right?”
“Can you pass the ketchup?”
“Gideon.”
“Yes obviously. I fuck everything up, and I fucked up then. To think that we could have-”
“You can finish that thought.”
“Rather not.”
“Do I need to call your mom?”
“No! She already sees us struggling in rehearsal.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“Ughhh. Fine.”
Week Five (continued)
Gideon invited Dulcie, Corona, Camilla, and Marta to her parent’s house for dinner. She knew full well that it was about to become an intervention, but she also knew full well that she needed it. So she might as well schedule it in at a time that was convenient for her.
“Should I bring any food?” Asked Marta, who Gideon had gotten pretty close to after all of their fencing lessons. She had the practicality and no drama that most of their cast mates lacked.
“No, Magnus cooks way too much. Bring wine if you want, but they don’t really drink.”
“Hmm I feel like I should bring something. Oh also, are you going to Ianthe’s party Friday night? I don’t want to go if you aren’t, or else I’ll be left to third wheel Corona and Judith, which will be awkward as fuck.”
“Yeah I’ll go. Hey, don’t tell anyone else about this dinner party. I’m only inviting people I can stand right now, which is exactly what I don’t want people to know.”
“I get it, I get it.”
Later that night, they all sat around Gideon’s childhood table and ate Magnus’s home cooked food and made small talk until everyone was finished eating. Then they all discussed Harrow being in love with her, and why she freaked out so much. Gideon cried, Magnus cried, Cam looked deeply uncomfortable but hugged them both, starting a hug pile.
Afterwards, Corona stopped by the store and got them a giant tiramisu that they all then got drunk off of on Magnus and Abigail’s porch.
Gideon, Dulcie’s head on one shoulder, Corona’s on the other, watched the sunset and felt like there was one thing keeping her from being happy.
But she had always known what that was.
Week Five (continued)
Harrow didn’t show up at Ianthe’s party. Gideon wasn’t that surprised. She spent the night getting drunk and dancing with her friends. It wasn’t enough. It hadn’t been in years.
Week Six
“Harrow! Harrow let me in! Let me in!”
“Uh Gideon?” Said an underclassman, passing by Harrow’s door, and subsequently, Gideon. “She hasn’t been back here in a week.”
Gideon groaned. There was only one other place Harrow could be.
It took two buses to get to the Tridentarius’s townhouse. She had taken that route so many times her sophomore year, when she had been crushing on Corona, that it was seared into her brain. Now she didn’t even have to think about it as she switched buses.
Here’s what she knew:
They had a play to be finished in five weeks. One of those would be tech week, the other dress rehearsals. That really meant three weeks. They were mostly memorized, everything was blocked out. Sword fighting was going surprisingly well, and they had started adding other props. The only problem was Gideon and Harrow’s scenes. Which consisted of most of the play. They had a lot of scenes together.
They both knew their lines. They both knew what they needed to do. They just couldn’t fucking act because Harrowhark Nonagesimus was in love with Gideon, and Gideon-
She got off the bus and knocked, loudly, on the Tridentanias’s door.
“Babs I swear to God if you lost your keys again-” Came Ianthe’s voice. When she opened the door, her face curdled. “Oh. You.”
“I need to talk to Harrow.” Gideon said, a little out of breath.
“So?”
“She hasn’t come back to our dorm in a week.”
Ianthe just raised an eyebrow. “Not my problem.” And slammed the door on her face.
Gideon texted Corona, which she should have done in the first place, and got a speedy ‘Nope, haven't seen her outside of rehearsal!’
Which meant Harrow was somewhere else. Fuck.
Except… well there was one more place she could be.
“Oh hi!” Said Dulcinea, though she didn’t seem very excited to see her. “We haven’t seen you around here in awhile.”
“Palamedes hates the sight of me right now.” Gideon said with a shrug.
Dulcie laughed but it wasn’t very genuine.
“Look, I need to talk to her.”
“Talk to who?” She asked, eyes wide and innocent.
“Dulcie…” Gideon growled.
“Fine. She’s here, but I don’t think she wants to talk to you. She’s still recovering.”
“You were there at Abigail’s and Magnus’s. Why didn’t you tell her anything?”
Dulcinea sighed and leaned against the door. “It isn’t my place.”
“Can I talk to her then?”
Dulcie looked her up and down, then shook her head. “She needs to feel safe here. Talk to her at rehearsal tomorrow.”
Week Six (continued)
It felt like déjà vu coming to rehearsal and finding no one there but Harrow. This time though, she hadn’t been expecting it, and Harrow obviously had.
“Say your piece and get it over with.” She said, face blank.
Gideon took a deep breath in. “I’m in love with you too.”
Whatever Harrow had thought she was going to say, that wasn’t it. Her eyes widened and her breath hitched. Then she frowned and furrowed her eyebrows. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No, you don’t get to do this. What, you just realized that after a week? I’ve been in love with you since we were in middle school, Gideon. You don’t get to do this!”
Silence.
“Harrow, I’ve wanted to kiss you since you turned to me in Mrs. Danser’s class, and said that you much preferred your fanfiction outside of classical literature.” She took in a deep breath of air. “Harrow, I thought we had to be best friends. That what we had, our friendship, was too good to mess with. Then it fell apart, and I couldn’t have you in any capacity. Now? I just needed time.”
“You damn well took your time.” Harrow said quietly, fists clenched.
Gideon chuckled. “Sorry.”
Then Harrow was on her like a storm. “You idiot!” She yelled, slamming her fists into her chest. “You idiot!” She sobbed, collapsing into her chest.
Gideon held her there for a while.
Week Seven
“… do you think they are a bit too nice to each other now?” Whispered Palamedes from the audience. He had obviously forgotten he was miked, because Gideon could hear him from the stage. She also heard Camilla’s response, which was, “You can criticize them later. At least they can touch each other now.”
They were running their first big fight scene, and while they had eliminated the flinches, they couldn’t stop grinning now. One problem for another, Gideon thought.
She rather liked this problem, though.
After the scene was smooth enough for Pal’s liking, they started on their last fight scene, which was the most ambitious choreography Gideon had ever dealt with. She wasn’t even sure how they’d pull off the bone construct, but Palamedes said a story about necromancy had to have necromantic elements once and awhile. For now though, Gideon and Harrow were allowed to smile at each other all they wanted, so they did, and it was great. They moved around each other like they were two parts of a whole, a single minded body with multiple limbs. It was like dancing.
She’d have to take Harrow clubbing sometime soon. Not to get drunk, but to dance.
This kept happening. She’d think of something they could do together, something she had learned to love over the last three years and had never done with Harrow. She had a list and it grew everyday.
Again, not really a problem in her mind.
When they finished the scene, they were panting and sweating, but their bright grins were still plastered to their faces.
“Can we go?” Asked Harrow, wiping her hair out of her face.
“Sure. You did good today.” Palamades said, as kindly as someone with three weeks left to pull off a student run play.
Gideon offered Harrow her hand, she took it, and they hurried out the door.
“They’re going to fuck.” Camilla remarked behind them, picked up by Palamades’s mike.
“Shush.” Palamedes said, with a laugh.
Gideon tugged on Harrow’s hand until they were both running, the cool autumn air catching their sweat and making it obsolete. They ran out of the University’s red brick paths and onto the city’s sidewalks, just in time for a bus to pull up. When it did, Gideon tugged Harrow onto it and they both fell into a single seat, their faces bright with joy.
“Hey.” She whispered, her hands coming up to Harrow’s face. Harrow leaned into her touch, eyes closing, locks of hair falling over her forehead.
“Hi.” She whispered back.
They didn’t talk for the rest of the bus ride, instead electing to press up against each other as much as they could without breaking social taboos about public indecency. Gideon had one hand cupping Harrow’s cheek, the other wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. Harrow had both hands in Gideon’s hair, her legs tangled with Gideon’s.
When they made it to the stop near their dorm, they quickly got off the bus and ran all the way up to Gideon’s floor. She fumbled for the lock, both of them laughing at an untold joke. ‘Remember that time you thought you were locked out of your house but you just couldn’t work a key?’ Harrow might have been thinking. ‘Remember that time you threw my key down the stairs to make me mad?’ Gideon thought.
When she got the lock open, they tumbled into her room, throwing off their shoes, shirts, and belts. Gideon fell into her twin sized, then Harrow fell right on top of her.
Suddenly her entire world view was just Harrow. Harrow’s dark, but bright eyes. Harrow’s pale brown skin that Gideon colored red every other minute. Harrow’s curling hair, her black hair clips, the soft flutter of her eyelashes.
They didn’t kiss, they hadn’t yet. Nor did they start any sort of sex. They just pressed their bodies as close as they could, a leg tangled here, a hand pressed there, hips against hips, cheeks against cheeks. The end result was a pretzel of a human being. It was hard to see where Gideon started and Harrow ended.
Good.
They stayed there, not talking, just taking in each other’s body heat. Harrow had always run so hot, and Gideon had missed it. She let herself drift off, let herself imagine hours upon hours of this in their future.
At eight PM, Harrow’s alarm went off.
“I have to go.” She groaned.
“I know,” Said Gideon, petting her face.
“I’ll see you later?” Harrow asked, with the edge of uncertainty.
“Duh.” Gideon said, and kissed her forehead.
Harrow shuddered prettily, then pulled herself off of Gideon. It was like having a blanket ripped off of her in the dead of winter. She shivered, and watched Harrow put her shirt back on, rebelt her pants, and slip into her shoes. She gave Gideon a small smile, then was off.
Gideon collapsed into her pillow.
Everything was going swimmingly.
Week Seven (continued)
After their first full run through, the cast of Gideon the Ninth (The Musical) went to Dairy Queen.
“Everyone has to say one thing they did good today, and one thing they need to improve on.” Corona said. Gideon groaned. “Buyers rules.” Corona added, eyes twinkling.
Gideon picked at her burger. “If I had known you were going to pay, I would have suggested Indian.” She huffed.
Corona hummed. “Why don’t you start us off, Gid?”
Gideon sighed, but in reality, she wasn’t that bothered by Corona’s game. She had Harrow pressed to one side, Cam on the other. Magnus and Abigail had gone home after their scenes, but Isaac and Jeannemary (who were hilarious, and great backstage) had stuck around. Everyone here, Silas discluded, were her favorite people in the world. Even Babs, for all his faults. Even… well maybe not Ianthe.
They were all crammed into two booths in a dairy queen at 11:27 at night, and Gideon couldn’t think of anything better to do. Well. She could think of a couple things.
“I thought my sword fights with Magnus and Babs were good today. I think I need to improve on being silent.”
Everyone laughed at that. Despite being the main character, Gideon’s character barely talked to anyone outside of Harrow, Palamedes, and Camilla. She was supposed to spend half of the play just reacting facially and saying witty things to Harrow in private. Unfortunately, she kept making noises instead.
“That scoff during scene 11 was hilarious.” Dulcie said, thrusting her french fry like a rapier. “But I agree, a quieter Gideon makes a better play!” Gideon stuck her tongue out, and reached over Harrow to grab at one of Dulcie’s fries.
“Harrow?” Corona asked.
“I did a good job in the pool scene today.” She said, which was an understatement. Gideon had started to get heated during it, having Harrow staring at her like that. “But I need to improve on my… feralness.”
“Once we get you covered in blood,” Said Marta, a grin on her face, “I think that’ll work itself out.”
Marta normally did props, but every senior had to act in the senior play. That meant the crew was filled with Juniors and Sophomores, something that worried Palamedes to no end.
“Dulcie, how about you?” Corona asked.
“Oh! Well, I think I was just perfect.”
“I think you excelled the most during your grand reveal scene.” Harrow said, quietly.
“Oh yes, I agree! Oh, I think I could improve my coughing. I can do the mobility part well,” She said, gesturing to her wheelchair, “But my coughs are never convincing enough.”
Pal went next, talking about how his character needed to have more of a variety of emotions, but how his yelling had gotten better. Ianthe said she needed to be sexier, and that her confession song was going swimmingly. Corona liked her crying (so did Gideon, it was incredibly convincing.), she said she needed to improve on her duet with Ianthe, though. She kept missing a note, which they all acknowledged but didn’t fault her for it. She was the truest soprano of them all, baring maybe Harrow, so Magnus had tried to give her something lilting and high.
Marta needed to work on her fight with Cam, Judith wanted to improve her acting during her solo, Jeannemary liked her crying over Isaac, Isaac wanted to cry more over Magnus and Abigail. Silas wasn’t even there, Gideon hadn’t noticed that he hadn’t piled into their cars with them, and Colum liked his monster possession scene. Pro liked being dead (who didn’t) and Babs thought he nailed his death performance.
“Good fighting.” Cam said. “Bad pretending to be hurt.”
They all agreed.
“I have a special call out.” Said the buyer of their meal. “Gideon and Harrow’s final song, One Flesh, One End (reprise), was absolutely stunning today.”
“Oh yes!” “Yeah it was pretty good.” “I could have done better.”
“What’s your secret?” Corona asked, leaning in.
Gideon glanced at Harrow. “We practice it a lot.”
Corona rolled her eyes playfully, but changed the subject to their classmates' plays, which she had been sneaking in to watch.
Gideon tuned out, instead electing to stare at Harrow. The truth was, they had stayed up late discussing the piece, which was definitely the most important song of the entire play. In it, Gideon was a figment of Harrow’s imagination, and the real Gideon (which would be a stuffed doll made to look like her) was dead. Harrow had to simultaneously be crying, begging her to come back, and fighting Dulcie. They had discussed numerous times how tender they wanted it to be (very), and how Gideon should fade away (by walking backwards). They had done it dozens of times, just the two of them in their pajamas in Harrow’s cramped dorm room.
It was probably Gideon’s favorite part of the play.
“Hey,” She whispered to Harrow. “Do you want to get out of here?”
Week Seven (continued)
Gideon and Harrow walked home in the dark, their hands intertwined.
“Can I take you somewhere else?” Gideon asked.
Harrow looked up at her with bright eyes. “I’ll follow you anywhere, idiot.”
Week Seven (continued)
The rest of the night was flashes of gold, red, pink, and blue lights dancing on Harrow’s brown skin. It was their bodies pressed against each other, their hands intertwined. It was laughs between twirls, gasps when Gideon picked her up, smiles when they slow danced.
Harrow and Gideon danced until the sun came up, then they called an uber to their dorm.
“Stay with me?” Gideon asked, singing the tune of Dulcie’s haunting lullaby, slightly off key.
Harrow swallowed, and nodded.
They climbed into Gideon’s bed and fell asleep, a single breathing organism.
Week Eight
The last week before tech week was a mess of props, trying on costumes Ianthe had sewn, forgetting lines and singing the wrong notes. It was Judith being kissed by Corona in the middle of their most heated scene. It was Dulcie having a real coughing fit and Palamedes stopping everything to attend to her. It was Cam and Gideon practicing their sword fights until their arms were sore. It was Harrow sitting in Gideon’s lap at meals, Harrow’s hands in her hair, Harrow asleep next to her side. The week went by too quickly for Gideon’s liking, but it was filled with moments she’d never forget.
Week Nine
Tech week. Palamedes' worst nightmare. The most boring time to be an actor. Gideon and Harrow’s first kiss.
It hadn’t happened how Gideon had meant it to. They were practicing the avulsion trial, the lighting red and fatal. Gideon was half dead on the ground, or pretending to be, and Harrow was trying to carry her away from Dulcie. Gideon was doing her best to make it easier for Harrow, which meant holding herself up to the best of her abilities. That meant, when Harrow stopped to adjust her, Gideon smacked right into Harrow’s face.
Their lips met. It was the least sexy kiss she had ever had.
“Can we talk about it?” Gideon said that night, her hand brushing up and down Harrow’s stomach.
“I guess.” Harrow said, not at all encouragingly. Her face was buried in Gideon’s armpit.
“Do you want to kiss me?” She asked.
Harrow sat up, eyes wild. “What? Of course I do.”
Gideon let out a sigh she hadn’t realized she had been holding in. “It’s just… we never. And you don’t like…?”
Harrow sighed, melting into Gideon’s side, and nuzzling her nose into her armpit. “I don’t like kissing strangers. I want to kiss you though.”
“Can I then?” Gideon asked.
Harrow looked up. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask that for weeks, dumbass.”
Gideon took her face in her hands and kissed her as softly as she knew how. She let Harrow melt into her lips, let her mouth fill with the taste of her. Then she broke away.” How was that?” She asked.
Harrow smiled, a soft and worn thing. “Good, but could be better.” Then kissed her with a firm, undying passion, like Gideon was her entire world.
Gideon met her with the same passion. Harrow was most definitely her entire world.
Week Ten
The final week meant all props and all costumes. Costumes were easy enough, everyone only had one to three changes. Makeup was harder; Gideon had to do her skull makeup twenty times before she even got close to mastering it.
“The sloppy makeup fits your character.” Said Judith, who was trying to bloody herself appropriately. There was a lot of blood in this play. Gideon was lucky enough to not have to deal with it until the last scene.
“Thanks, Jody.” Gideon said. Judith was a lot nicer now that she was going out with Corona. Repressed lesbians, man. All they needed was a lover and then they chilled the fuck out.
“Don’t call me that.” Judith chided, and the spell was broken.
Harrow had to use so much blood that she’d come out of rehearsals stained pink. Gideon had a fun time cleaning it off of her every night.
Their biggest hurdle was the skeletons. Palamedes had gotten some freshmen to dress as skeletons, but monster bone constructs were a whole other story. In the end, they had decided to project one on the screen behind them, something that had cost Corona a pretty penny, and the actors would just have to pretend to fight it. Gideon didn’t mind it, except for when she crossed over the projection and the allusion was broken.
It was going as well, if not better, then a musical written and performed by college students in ten weeks could go.
Gideon laughed and joked all day, then got pressed into her mattress, Harrow’s lips exploring her body, all night. So yeah, she didn’t have any complaints.
Unfortunately, things took a turn for the worse when Silas arrived at rehearsal red in the face.
For a second, Gideon expected the worst. A homophobic tirade about there being, ‘Too many lesbians in this play,’ or a resignation days before the first show. Instead he said, “I fucked up.” In that terribly deep voice of his.
Palamedes, who was wearing his scholar’s robe, frowned. “What did you do?” He said, moments before the auditorium door slammed open, to reveal an incredibly angry President John Gaius.
John had never gotten back to them about his role in the play. Pal had been disappointed, but he changed Harrow’s final song to a solo, and made it a dramatic and mournful moment, instead of the beginning of something new. (In Palamedes mind there would be a sequel to the play where it was revealed that Gideon was actually God’s daughter, and couldn’t be killed. It went far above Gideon’s head, though Harrow plus the play had definitely convinced her to read the original series.) They had thought his ignorance would be the end of it. It seemed they were wrong.
John Gaius was, according to Harrow, an incredibly religious man. Apparently she and Silas had both been a part of a religious group with him their freshman year, but she had broken away from it while Silas hadn’t. Now it seemed, this would be their downfall.
“Do it.” Gaius said, his face uncomfortably calm as he stopped in front of them.
“Do… what?” Palamedes asked, ashen.
John smiled at him. It made Gideon nauseous. “Perform your play. I want to see your commentary on religion.”
“I told you, sir,” Silas said. “It takes a stand against zealousness. We are constantly taking stands against fanaticism, aren’t we?”
“Be quiet, Silas, and perform your play.”
Silas shut up. They all got into positions.
It wasn’t the best time they had ever done it. Gideon was tired from running it already that day, and she barely had time to throw on her makeup. But they’d be tired after a week of performances, and they would have to push through it then too. She sucked it up and acted her ass off.
When they were done, a nervous Junior put the house lights on, and they gathered in front of Gaius.
“So?” Palamedes asked, nose flaring. “That good enough for you?”
Gaius had been studying his nails. He looked up then, and put on that nauseous smile again. “Is it too late to join?”
Week Zero
Gideon loved the exhilaration of the stage lights, the adrenaline of her fight scenes, the loud applause after each song. She loved the gasps they got every night, whether it be when she died, or when the secret to lyctorhood was revealed. She loved putting on a story, and she loved doing it with her friends.
Most of all, she loved when they were done, panting hard, and hugging each other as the curtain fell.
“I fucking love this!” Gideon yelled over the applause, their fourth night.
“I love you too!” Harrow yelled back.
Gideon’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t correct her. Instead she pulled her into a breath stealing kiss. “I love you.” She murmured into Harrow’s lips.
Harrow laughed and wrapped her arms around Gideon’s neck. Gideon was the happiest she had ever been.
Fucking Palamedes and his schemes.