In Only Seven Minutes (Nateiplier AU)

"Time is money."

"Nate, seriously you're fucking killing me today."

The frown on Bob's lips was usually one that could chill any actor's blood to ice, but the way that his rounded face was glaring at the slender man on the stage was exceptionally terrifying.

"It's not my fault that Mark can't act dead," Nate grumbles back, his dark brown eyes glaring back. "He's breathing so hard that even the people in the back of the theater could see that he's still alive."

Bob pulls off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

"What do you want me to do," Mark hisses, lifting himself off of the ground, his face covered in fake blood. "Hold my god damned breath for the rest of the scene?"

"How about you do that for a couple of rehearsals and we see how things go?" Nate sneers back, his face lifting up in a smirk.

"Both of you need to fucking stop," Bob shouts as Mark begins to talk again. "This whole play will be a disaster if the two of you don't start getting along. This entire thing was so much easier when you two will still fucking each other."

Nate gives a loud huff as he stomps off the stage and towards the back area of the theater, and with a quick turn he almost crashes into Ethan who is carrying a case of water bottles to the kitchen area.

"Sorry, Eth. In a hurry, and really pissed off."

"Yeah, I can see that," Ethan chuckles. "About Mark, I assume?"

"When isn't it about Mark?"

With a sigh Nate takes a hold of one end of the case of water and helps Ethan carry it to the kitchen, then he sits down at the small table as Ethan begins to put the water in the refrigerator.

"You'd think by now we'd stop snapping at each other about everything," Nate mutters as he leans his head onto his tattooed forearm. "It's been two fucking months."

"You guys really loved each other," Ethan answers, his blue eyes looking sympathetically. "Healing takes a long time, and it's even harder when you still have to work with your ex practically every day. It's something that Tyler and I have discussed ourselves, if we ever break up."

"Glad to see that Mark and I being used as an example of what not to do," Nate grumbles back, and Ethan squeaks.

"Oh, god I didn't mean it like - "

"I know that you didn't mean it the way that it sounded," Nate says as he runs long fingers through his thick black hair. "I'm just tired of still loving a guy who I can't stand being near anymore. It's fucking up our minds and doing worse things for the play."

Ethan gives the other man a bottle of water and sits down next to him, his brain working overtime to find encouraging words or ideas to help both Nate and Mark. The off Broadway play would be starting in less than two months, and they were still not anywhere near ready, even if the two leading actors were still getting along.

"How's the new lighting guy doing?" Nate asks to try to break the still silence. "Jacob is his name, right?"

"Jack," the younger man corrects him, and Nate nods his head. "He's doing great, actually. Felix is showing him the ropes before he heads back to do the other behind the scene work. We still are looking for a couple more stagehands but otherwise we're doing good."

Nate gives a dark chuckles as he opens up the bottle and take a large gulp of water.

"Bob's going to end up having a stroke if we don't start getting this play together, isn't he?"

Ethan pauses a moment before he answers.

"He is taking a lot of antacids lately."

On the other side of the building Mark is pacing back and forth, trying to find the best way of approaching Bob about everything. This latest outburst between Nate and himself was just one more reason why something needed to change.

"You're going to wear a groove in the entrance way of my office, Mark," Bob calls from inside the closed door. "Either come inside or leave, but fucking pick one, ok?"

Mark opens the door and starts to speak, but is stopped by Bob's raised hand, and then pointing at his cell phone, motioning for the other man to sit until he was finished with his phone call.

"I know that we are behind, Robin," Bob grunts into the phone. "Just keep our producters at bay for a while longer, please? We can't keep stagehands to save our life, and you know about the issue I'm having with the ex lovebirds."

Bob's blue eyes dart over to Mark, who looks uncomfortable now in his seat.

"I promise that we will get all of this shit figured out within the next few weeks, and we will get back on schedule. Yes, seriously I mean it."

Bob hangs up the phone with a flick of his thumb and then buries his head in his large hands, groaning loudly into his palms.

"Before you say anything, Mark," Bob says, his words slightly muffled from his hands. "The answer is no."

"No, to what?"

"To you resigning from the show," Bob replies, lifting his face up to meet the slender brown gaze. "You're too talented to be replaced, as is Nate. Plus even if I wanted to get rid of either or both of you, I couldn't. We are way too far in production and over budget, and the producers specifically wanted the two of you in the lead roles. So, the answer is 'no' to you leaving."

Mark's face fell into a sharp frown at the refusal, but he wasn't giving up that easily.

"We both are miserable, Bob, and that misery is showing up in our performances. If you care about either one of us - "

"You know that I care about the both of you a lot," Bob snaps back, his plump face growing red in front of Mark's eyes. "The two of you are professionals, so you are able to act like adults whether you can fucking stand each other off the stage or not, right?"

Mark scowls at the director, his mind pushing forwards with really nasty things to say, but all of them melt away at the other man's face.

"Yes, I guess that we can."

"Good," Bob says, his glasses back off of his face and sighing deeply as he picks up the phone again. "Then it's reasonable for me to think that we won't need to have another talk about this subject then?"

Mark gets to his feet and looks back over to Bob as he leaves his office.

"No, we won't. We'll figure out a way to get along, one way or another."