Chapter Text
“I’m gonna quit,” Trevor announced as he walked into the small apartment. His roommate and honorary best friend Annie Twilloil sat on their old beat-up couch in the living room. The TV played in front of her, she kindly muted it upon his arrival.
The whole society had had rehearsal that day but Chris had felt it necessary to keep only Trevor after everyone else had left. Chris often raised the issue that Trevor handled his job as stage manager very poorly given the number of technical incidents that arose during their productions. Trevor always countered that he did a damn well fantastic job. Arguing that on more than one occasion he had gone above and beyond his duties as stage manager to try and make Chris’ insane visions come to life. Sure a lot of the stuff Trevor came up with was faulty but he was working with practically no budget and Chris’ utter refusal to compromise. So Trevor did his best to make it all come together as best he could. And yeah sometimes people got hurt from what Trevor came up with but more often than not Trevor was included in those casualties so he figured from a karma standpoint it all worked out well enough.
At the end of it all that was Chris’ real problem. He was a pessimist, always focused on what went wrong, and never seemed to appreciate all the fires (both figurative and literal) that Trevor at least tried to put out. Hell Chris didn’t seem bothered to be grateful that the cast made it through the shows alive most days.
To put it in its simplest terms Trevor always tried his best, it was just a simple matter the Trevor’s best, most days just wasn’t very good. Chris despite all the years of knowing Trevor had never come to appreciate that fact.
“After getting on my case about how I’m not doing my job properly he says he wants me to hand bedazzle Dorothy’s slippers,” Trevor exclaimed heading toward the fridge taking out a beer and promptly slamming the top against the kitchen counter. The cap flew off with a metallic clang and landed with a dull thud somewhere in their apartment.
Trevor flopped on the couch next to Annie, his limbs sprawling as he did. At rehearsal, Annie had felt the sparks between Trevor and Chris burning especially hot that day and could tell a storm was brewing between the two men. Upon returning to the apartment she had poured herself a generous glass of wine as she waited for Trevor and the inevitable bitch session that would follow. Annie sipped her wine well aware that Trevor wasn’t done yet.
“Can you believe that?” He paused to take a sip of his beer. “Does he think that just because I’m a fag that I’m gonna be good at that sort of thing?” Trevor asked incredulously. He gestured wildly to his all black attire “I mean look at me clearly I’m not that kind of fag.”
He looked to his friend for agreement but instead, he found her laughing at him. She shook her head lovingly the way she usually did when Trevor was being particularly stupid and gay.
“What?” He asked annoyedly. The beer tasted good against his tongue but he longed more for its effect to smooth out the remaining tension from his fight with Chris.
Annie fixed him with a bemused tired sort of look.
“Just you and Chris.” She said, her eyes rolling playfully like the two of them were simply exhausting. “The whole thing you two have got going.” She finished with a small smile.
Trevor’s eyebrows furrowed.
“What you mean?” He asked sitting a little forward on the couch
Annie raised an eyebrow in a way that was meant to ask if Trevor was being thick on purpose. Trevor offered her no rebuttal. Annie took a long suffering sigh and took a long sip of wine.
“Why did you start working with Chris?” She asked with a patient smile.
“It was back at Uni. We were sort of mates at the time and helping him out with his shows would help me with my credits.” Trevor explained and was beginning to think that Annie was the thick one. Surely she had heard this story before.
“Right.” She replied with the same patient smile still in place. “And how many credits do you get for helping Chris now?”
Trevor scoffed.
“None. We’re not at university anymore Annie.” He was about to ask her just how much wine she had had but she interrupted him before he could.
“Exactly.” She said with a wave of her hand as to illustrate the obviousness of it all. Trevor merely stared at her. She saw that he still didn’t get it and a look of pity crossed her face. Gently she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You said it yourself Trev you’re not here for credits anymore. For all your talk of quitting and how insufferable working with Chris you’re still here. Day after day. And as much as I know that our friendship is one of the reasons you stick around. I don’t think it’s the only reason.” She explained and something mischievous glinted in her lovely brown eyes.
Finally, it clicked in Trevor’s mind what she was implying.
“Nothing is going on between me and Chris,” Trevor said bluntly not hiding the irritation that dripped from his tone at the accusation.
“I wouldn’t say nothing.” Annie began but Trevor cut her off again.
“Well, I would,” Trevor said starkly now completely convinced that Annie had in fact lost her mind.
“What of the rest of you lot then? Chris treats everyone like shit does the whole cast have secret feelings for him?” Trevor countered hotly, more hotly really than seemed appropriate or warranted for as silly discussion as this.
Annie was nonplussed at Trevor’s reaction and merely shrugged.
“No, no we’re actors. We’re half out of our minds already and unfortunately working with Chris is the best we can get so we have to put up with it. But you.” Here she tilted her head at him in a way that made his skin itch. “You could walk away anytime you like.”
Trevor felt his cheeks heat up but chalked it up to the alcohol entering his bloodstream.
“I stick around because this is the best job I can get with my arrest record and the only place where I can tell my coworkers to fuck off,” Trevor said simply and Annie chuckled at that. He took a hearty swig from his bottle. From the way this conversation was going, he was going to need a couple tonight. He held up a finger as he swallowed.
“Not to mention Chris doesn’t suck cock and that is something I refuse to live without,” Trevor said as if that would be enough to put this absurd conversation out of its misery.
To Trevor’s annoyance, Annie merely pulled a face.
“Listen, I don't say who's gay or what makes someone gay.” Annie paused, swishing the wine in her glass elegantly. “But Chris did slap your naked ass that one time. I mean yeah the script called for him to smack the table and your ass was very much in the way but I feel like he could have just moved his hand a little to the left and y’know…(Here she gestured vaguely) not smacked your ass. That seemed pretty gay to me.” She said with a tilt of her head.
“Hardly something worth building a relationship on,” Trevor muttered.
Annie’s eyebrows arched in an infuriating manner and Trevor knew that she was actively fucking with him now.
“So you would consider a relationship with Chris if he was queer?” Annie purred. Trevor refused to dignify that question with a response. He opted instead to throw a couch pillow at her head.
“Bastard.” She laughed as she tried to protect herself without spilling too much of her wine. She had only mild success.
“That is enough of that,” Trevor said pointedly and Annie merely raised her hands in a playful gesture of surrender. She had had her fun. Trevor turned his attention to the small TV in front of them, still flickering silently.
“You recorded Wonka yeah? Let’s get pissed and watch Wonka.” Trevor said, grabbing the remote and ignoring the fact that they had another long day of rehearsal tomorrow. Annie let out an excited squeal and quickly downed the small amount of wine left in her glass and quickly went to pour herself another.
Trevor had hoped that the resulting night of binge drinking would eradicate Annie’s ridiculous claim from his mind but he wasn’t so lucky. Perhaps the conversation itself did disappear from the forefront of his mind but the idea, the idea remained. Trevor couldn’t see it head-on, he’d be surprised to know it was there at all. But if he squinted at the splinters of the idea maybe he could begin to glean their meaning. And maybe even one day through everything and all of it and if he was feeling particularly brave he would allow himself to see the whole picture.