moitmiller:

“I have a different journey.” –Zachary Quinto

Zach’s eyes flicked briefly around the table then back to his script. He’d gotten it a few months ago, but this was the first time they were all sitting down to read it with Justin. The gang was back together without actually being back together, but it felt good enough. Anton’s absence was keenly felt, and Zach appreciated that his loss was acknowledged both in the letter he received with the script and in the script itself.

Amidst contract negotiations, none of the original—imperative—cast would have agreed to come back had they simply written Chekov out of the story. He deserved, and was given, an appropriate end to his arc, as short and bright as it had been.

The read-through took the better part of the afternoon. There were still changes to make—so many changes between now and post-production. God, it was going to take forever.

“That’s it for today, guys. Thanks for coming.”

Zoe laid a hand on Zach’s arm. “I’m so glad to have you back in town. I feel like I never got to see you in New York.”

“I know. Life is just … “ Zach lifted his hands in wordless expression. “Anyway, you’ll have to come over and see my new condo.”

“You’re living downtown, right? Just can’t give up that East coast lifestyle?”

“Can you blame me?”

“Hey Zach,” said a voice behind him.

Zach stiffened. They hadn’t seen one another since Chris got shitfaced the night he presented Zach with his Oscar Wilde Award. Pasting a smile on his face, Zach turned around.

Sofia was attached to Chris’s side. His arm rested across her shoulders and they were holding hands. Zach’s eyes flicked to their entwined fingers. Chris flushed pink across the bridge of his nose. He shook his hand free and side-stepped to leave enough room for the Holy Spirit between he and Sofia.

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