#JEEZ THAT ALARM WENT ON FOR LIKE FIFTEEN MINUTES

[oddballwriter]

Maybe a fluff oneshot where the reader can’t sleep, and it turns out Evan can’t sleep either, so when they end up running into each other in the kitchen, he suggests they sit on the couch and watch a horror movie? ^^

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦ Warnings: None that I know of

Author’s Snip: This was cute and nice to write. Notes: I hope you guys don't mind if there's errors in this, I wrote this while waiting for my professor to get to class since they were late.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request. ꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

This wasn't too much of a rare occurrence. Sometimes you just had those nights where you couldn't find the ability to sleep even though you didn't have any try of stress or worry that would keep you up. You ended up tossing and turning in bed for what turned out to be a long while. The light of the alarm clock read that it was fifteen minutes past eleven in the night. Not all that late, you know. But you felt like with the time you got into bed that you should be out of commission to the world till morning.

You decide that maybe what you need is a snack to get over this situation. You take the initiative to get out of bed and pad dawn to the kitchen using the hallway lights that you still had on for Evan's sake since he went out with the group and might have had enough festivities to make his ability to navigate his way around the house when he got back.

But once you rounded the corner that lead to the kitchen, you saw Evan there already, making you let out a flinch and a quick and quiet "Oh god" under your breath. It was enough to get Evan's attention and have him spin around to look at you.

"Oh jeez, y/n." he responded, "Sorry I didn't mean to scare you. Did I wake you up?" Evan asked as he gave you a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Hey. No, you didn't. I didn't even hear you come home." you answer while returning the gesture. "What are you doing up then? It looks like you were in bed." he questions. "Can you not sleep?" he asked, and you gave him a nod. Evan lets out a hum of understanding. "I don't think I'm going to be able to do that either." he confesses.

"You wanna watch something? Like a movie." Evan offers while he pulls away from you to look at you. You think on it for a moment before looking at him. "If you want to." you respond, "I don't have anything to really do in the morning anyways so I'm down if you're down.".

"Alright. I'll put something on while you get some snacks and stuff." Evan says while he pulls away and walks off to the living room.

#slenderverse #everymanhybrid #everymanhybrid x reader #slenderverse x reader #emh evan #emh evan x reader

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

The Broken Alarm Clock

Another short story, continuation of The Late Night Visit, chapter Two of The In-Between series and part of The Simple Case of Love fic universe. You can check the entire series out on AO3, too. Enjoy.

The Broken Alarm Clock - 1.1K

“(F/N), wake up!” a quiet but insistent voice sounded right next to your ear. You groaned unhappily. You were exhausted and you were resting so comfortably, cuddled up to something delightfully warm, the very concept of getting up seemed like a fate worse than death. The something you were leaning against moved and you heard someone take a deep breath. Suddenly, a hand touched your cheek and you leaned into it, getting even more comfortable. “Oh, you are going to be the death of me,” said the voice again, both fondness and slight exasperation could be heard within it.

 “Really, though, Bev Keanne is going to be here any minute now, looking for me, and this will be very hard to explain.” You were up at once. Your eyes snapped open and you finally realised that the warm comfy thing you were snuggling against was Father Paul Hill. The entire evening came back to you all at once; your insomnia, late night strolling and finally falling asleep with the parish priest right on his couch. “Oh my god,” you muttered, your voice still heavy with sleep which was now also mixed with panic.

 You immediately released Father Paul and jumped up from the sofa, almost falling down on your bum in the process. “Jeez, what time is it?!” “Later than would be wise,” said Father Paul, “the mass is supposed to begin in fifteen minutes, so I should really get myself ready. You might be able to still slip out unnoti-” Knock knock knock.

 Both you and Paul turned your eyes towards the door. “Father Paul? It’s Bev,” came a muffled voice from outside, “are you alright? People are entering the church already.” You looked at the father: he was still wearing his pajamas, his hair was messy and there were circles under his large dark eyes. He stood up from the couch quickly and grabbed your arm, gently but firmly guiding you towards his bedroom and mouthing a silent ‘Go!’. No sooner had you hidden inside the dim room had the front door opened.

 “Father! You’re not ready for mass!” you heard Bev’s shrill voice as you went further on to the bathroom, praying that she would stay in the main room. “Yes, I um- I’m afraid I might’ve overslept a bit. Give me five minutes, I’ll be right in the church,” said Paul apologetically. After a few moments and some muttered words from Bev, there were sounds of the front door closing again and quick steps leading into the bedroom. Father Paul came into view as you stood in the doorframe to the bathroom. He took his shirt off in a hurry and you immediately turned around in order to give him some privacy. 

You heard the rustle of clothes as Paul tried to change quickly. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, “are you very mad at me?” The rustling stopped and then a gentle hand landed on your shoulder. You turned around to look at him. He was already partly dressed, wearing a pair of those tight skinny jeans, black socks and he was in the middle of buttoning up his shirt. However, the upper part of his chest was bare and you couldn’t stop your eyes from observing it appreciatively. Remembering yourself, you gazed up and into his eyes. There was a soft smile on his lips: “I’m not mad at you at all. I should’ve woken you up earlier, to be honest, but you looked very peaceful.” Your cheeks tinted at the idea of him watching you as you slept, cuddled against him.

 He continued buttoning his shirt, searching for the white priest collar with his eyes: “Now I’m afraid though that you’ll have to wait until mass begins to, say, ‘make your escape’,” his voice was mischievous. You were mesmerised by his hands as they deftly worked up the black shirt, barely listening to him. You stepped aside to let him into the bathroom, so he could brush his teeth and tame his hair. Only then you thought about what he said.

 “I don’t get it though, it’s not like something bad happened, we just fell asleep. It happens, I mean,  I take kips at Erin’s house all the time.” He chuckled with the toothbrush in his mouth but didn’t attempt to say anything. Two minutes later, you were helping him into his green chasuble. He was unshaved from yesterday, but otherwise looked as put together and decent as he always did. “Well, I’m running late,” he said, checking his watch, “hopefully my flock won’t eat me alive.” You giggled and opted to stay in his bedroom, sitting on his bed until the coast was clear: “You didn’t answer me, though, why am I hiding?” 

 He took one last look into the mirror and went to leave, only stopping right as he reached the door. Still with the grin of his, he looked back at you. “You’ve been here on this island for quite some time now, you know how gossip spreads.” And with that, he left the rectory.

—

 You managed to slip out about half an hour later, and even made it home without bumping into anyone. After some much needed breakfast there came a knock on your door. “Hey,” said Erin with a grin once you opened. “Good morning,” you replied, still groggily, since the thrill of the morning wore off and your body just remembered you were running on barely four hours of sleep. Stepping aside you let Erin into your home. “I wanted to check up on you,” she admitted as you made your way into the living room, “you don’t usually miss Sunday mass, I was worried if you’re alright.” You offered her something to drink and she asked for a cup of ginger tea. ‘Helps with the morning sickness,’ she said. “I’m sorry to have worried you,” you apologised truthfully, your back to her as you prepared the drink, “I fell asleep late and my um-, my alarm seems to have broken and it didn’t ring.” 

You finished making Erin’s tea (and your too-strong coffee) and sat with her on the sofa. Your friend immediately took the cup you laid down onto the coffee table and blew softly on the hot liquid. “That’s funny,” she said after a while with an impish smile, “Father Paul was late this morning and he said the exact same thing!” With all the innocence you could muster you looked straight into her eyes and said: “Oh well, it seems being a God’s servant doesn’t protect your alarm clock from breaking down, doesn’t it?” 

Erin started laughing.

Thank you for reading. Please, check this story out on AO3 and if you liked it, I’ll be very happy for feedback. If you have a prompt or a fun idea for a short fic, my inbox is open. Thanksies x

#midnight mass #father paul hill #fanfiction #father paul x reader #father paul hill x reader #reader insert #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #short and sweet #father paul #erin greene #bev keane #midnight mass fanfiction

[gottagobuycheese]

Creator Wrap 2020

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

As I’m typing this it is 5:02 in the morning on the last possible day to finish during 2020 so kudos to me for being a consistent person in SOME aspect skjhfskj

Thanks for tagging me, @beingjanee! When I was looking for stuff I made this year, I was kind of surprised to realize how much stuff I’d started but never finished, or finished but never posted. Granted, some are because I am not at liberty to share them, but mostly it was just because I never got around to it. So there isn’t really much to share from this year, haha. But hey, head start on next year! 

Anyways, these are some of the few things that made it outside my brain this year, despite all the Everything™. A fair few of them are co-created, so credit where credit’s due! And thus, in no particular order: 

1. Hollow Knight OST - Greenpath (Cover): Somehow in between all the studying and discording and video gaming, I was lucky enough to join my fellow agents of chaos @imperiousheiress and @silent--sonata in making our very own cover of Greenpath from Hollow Knight! Outside of formal band class or choir, I’d never actually made music with other people before, much less online across such drastically different timezones, so this was a SUPER fun little project that came out of this year! And it sounds pretty dang good, if I do say so myself. It also made me realize that if I cannot bring a keyboard or my trumpet to whatever place I end up living/working next I might actually die 

2. [Podfic] A Portrait in Synesthesia (based on A Portrait in Synesthesia by @jessicafish): This one is also a collaboration borne of the sheer madness that comes with locking five restless creatives in a groupchat during the first few months of this ridiculous year. But this is no ordinary podfic. Voiced by @d20owlbear, @silent--sonata, @internetkatze, @imperiousheiress, and yours truly, it’s also got cover art for each chapter AND an absolutely gorgeous instrumental track that accompanies it. I remember fondly the anticipation of waiting for Jess’s birthday to come by so we could finally stop sitting on it XD (speaking of, happy very belated half-birthday Jess!!)

3. Laugh Lines and Crow’s Feet: For once I did not chicken out completely when faced with the mortifying ordeal of Making a Background, so I’m definitely proud of at least that much with this piece XD. Also I love any excuse to draw people laughing, so there’s that. 

4. Fem Crowley: What started out as an exercise in head angles quickly ended up being an exercise in color. Obviously it looks way more accurate than anything I’d’ve drawn from scratch, but as far as the coloring goes, I’m pretty happy with how it turned out! 

5. Good Omens Snake-Off: Drew almost all the line art for this entire thing on the plane ride home after being forcibly punted from the country when the world first started shutting down, so THAT was new. I’ve never drawn that much on a plane before, especially without saving references first (until we landed and I had to google Brother Francis’s face of course), so I’m very pleased with it! (Also it’s just fitting to include the very first thing that came of quarantine lol)

Running out of time to post this before midnight so I’ll edit it later lol 

(EDIT: all right it is officially the Gregorian new year and now that the fire alarm has been disarmed I can finish this in peace lol) 

And I’d be remiss if I did not at least mention the entirety of the Good Omens Big Bang! I can’t quite tell how much of the work was done in 2019 (which, wild that that was only last year — well, last last year, now), so I didn’t include it, but knowing me, I’m sure 90% of it was done in the week(s) leading up to the February deadlines. 

(It’s already 2021 for me, but that’s not the case for all of you, so it’s okay I can still tag people.) Thusly I tag everyone mentioned above and also @theoldaquarian, @runningturnip, @yeswevegotavideo, @queenerdloser, @pachelbelsheadcanon, @fremulon, and everyone else who wants to share some of the things they’ve made in the past year (but no pressure!) Making it through this year was hard enough, so even if it wasn’t a particularly creative year, that’s still plenty to be proud of. And whatever else happened, I’m glad it meant I could meet you all :D 

Here’s to a better 2021 for everyone (oh hey that rhymes)! May you and your loved ones experience much more happiness, good health, and fun than in the previous year. And, of course, HAPPY FRIDAY!! (And also New Year I guess) 

#it is 5:06 and it is getting really hot under this blanket and also I promised my housemate we'd make garlic bread today #so I must break for sleep #not that this will change anything whatsoever for whomever is reading this when it's posted #lmao okay it is now 10:40 on the last night of the year because I slept until 2:00 and then made garlic bread with my housemate #and also binged the first season of kingdom #captain's log #tag thingy #tag game #honorary mentions to all the ocarina and piano and trumpet recordings that only live on my phone or DMs #they're not posted anywhere BUT I am proud of them!! I've never bothered recording myself doing anything before #but it's definitely something I'd like to continue going forward #JEEZ THAT ALARM WENT ON FOR LIKE FIFTEEN MINUTES #MY E A R S #sure hope we never have a real fire hear because I will 100% just plunk my headphones on and ignore it #instead of figuring out where to evacuate to #ANYWAYS HAPPY NEW YEAR

[funeral-is-a-twink]

Heyyy free card! Do your favorite abnormality!

What were you thinking? You shouldn’t be doing this! It’s just too good though, you can't resist!

What are you doing exactly? You’re eating lunch, during a containment breach, that consists of Little Red, Der Freischütz, and Clouded Monk,and you’re the only one suited to take on Red. Of course, it’s not your fault. You are on lunch break, (and you can’t bring yourself to face Red) and by Sin are you going to use it. 

So here you are, chowing down on your food and idly scrolling through your phone, with the suppression alarm blaring overhead when you hear a familiar ping. You look above you, trying not to stare directly into the light above and see Red’s target above your head. Great, of course it’s her.

You would have cursed, honestly that’s what you felt like doing, because everything always goes wrong on your lunch break. Instead, you slam your head on the table and groan, because you’re better than that. You probably should have run, or grabbed your weapon, anything really, but you wanted to lament about your luck for just a tad bit longer.

Of course, saying a tad bit longer is a lie, because next thing you know Red slams open the door, which slams against the wall loud enough that you’re almost positive that it cracked. You would have said something, but you don’t trust yourself, so you stay silent.

It must have been a weird sight for her, seeing you with your head down and hand crossed over your head. She’d always said how you were so energetic and confident.

Of course, both of which go you into this situation in the first place. 

You genuinely expected her to fight you, she always did. She wanted to ‘test’ you, to make sure you were good enough to be affiliated with her. Her words, not yours. Although, you guessed that Der Freischutz taught her that not all fights are won through combat, or something like that.

Instead you hear her pull out a chair from in front of you and sit down. Now, this surprises you, how would it not? Red isn’t somebody who would just,,, sit down near you, she’d rather stand leaning on a corner menacingly, so this comes as quite the shock.

This in turn causes you to actually look up at her, unfurling your arms and lifting your head up after what felt like ages. She isn’t quite looking at you, instead staring somewhere near your shoulder. Her hands are folded between each other, and she wrings them in what you think is nervousness.

You begin to open your mouth to speak but Red beats you to it. “ Why did you stop working with me.” There’s a hint of sadness in her voice, that’s almost hidden behind her anger.

Ah, shit. The one thing you didn’t want to happen, you were so screwed. Maybe you can fix this, you have so.

“I’m sorry.” Is the only part of your long, improvised apology that makes it past your lips,.

At your very short reply, she snorts and leans back in the chair. “As if, you didn’t even come to try and suppress me. You obviously don’t care, you’re eating right now!” She broadly gestures to your lunch, which still lays half-eaten in front of you. 

You grin nervously, eyes refusing to meet her own. Instead, they dart all over the room, trying to find anything to get your mind off the current situation. Right now the Spider Lily in the corner seems like your best bet. 

You’re shaken out of your trance by Red abruptly slamming her hands on the table. Startled you eyes lurch back over to hers, and oh boy is she mad. Her eyes are blown impossibly wide, and filled with so much anger that for a split second you feel like crying.(weird, you don’t know why.) She doesn’t say anything, but she speaks just fine with her body tone alone. 

“Your-your father, umm, Der Freischütz? Yeah, yeah. Hetoldmenottotalktoyouanymore.” The words come out faster than your brain had time to process, and when you do your only response is to slam your head down onto the table. 

It hurts, yes, but it doesn’t come close to how embarrassed you felt. Oh Sin why did you say that? You don’t look up, even when Red hisses a “What?”. You do when she asks again though.

“ Ah, erm, he told me to stop talking to you during one of his breaches an-” You would have continued had Red not yelled;

“My old man did WHAT?!?”  Yikes, this isn’t good. 

Red is mad, she is furious, she is- picking you up? What? That is not something that she does when she’s mad. Oh, there she goes, she’s off, probably heading over to Der Freischutz. Jeez this is weird, why do you sound like this, is it shock? Maybe. Ah, there Der Frei is, oh and Clouded Monk as well ooh, it’s a family reunion without the reunion part.

Oh, you’ve been put down, that’s sad but you understand. Yelling with two hands is easier than yelling with one after all. You can’t hear a word that she’s saying, but she looks like she’s mad. Some time has passed, maybe about fifteen minutes or so, before Red picks you up and storms off. You don’t get to see where she went, seeing as you fell asleep before that (Later on you’d heard that it was from an abnormality in the Disciplinary team), but you guessed that it was her containment. 

Today was a very good day.

#lobotomy corporation #little red riding hooded mercenary #20/10 #heehoo prebby lady #i love her very much :) #a friend :)

[ca-8]

(Heartbreak From War)

(Fusionfall X Reader) Chapter One

    Sobbing. That was what (Y/N) heard in the darkness. Everything on her body stung and ached terribly, so she couldn't move. All she could do was listen to the cries.

    "She can't be dead!" a male voice shouted.

    "(Y/n)...sweetie, please wake up..." a female voice whispered closely.

    "Where are the paramedics?!" another female voice shouted in the distance. (Y/n) became more conscious as these familiar voices continued to shout and weep.

    'Huh...what's going...on...?' her mind mumbled. A sudden dryness entered her throat, and a blinding light drove out the darkness.

    (Y/n) gasped as she shot awake on her bed. She whipped her head around only to see that she was in her room. She turned her head towards the window to her left, and she was greeted by the moon dominating the night sky. The young woman looked over to her alarm clock, which read three o' nine.

    (Y/n) laid back down on her bed. Her (E/C) eyes stared up at the ceiling, pondering about her dream before sighing when she realized fully what it was. 'That happened four years ago. I should have gotten over it by now,' she thought. Her eyes wandered to the right side of the room when they caught sight of a (F/C) necklace on her nightstand.

    Inside of the glass case, the necklace glittered under the moonlight. Small four (F/C) gems were lined up on one chain, while the biggest spot for a missing (F/C) gem hung below them in the middle, separating the smaller ones into twos. The main spot for the larger missing gem hung like a teardrop as if it was the symbol of (Y/n)'s life: beautiful, mysterious, and despairing.

    (Y/n) sighed and turned her body towards the window. The stars that partnered the moon were glimmering over the black and white CN sign. (Y/n)'s small town was beside the logo, so her house had a perfect view of it. Slowly, (Y/n)'s lips curled into a smile.

    'I shouldn't be stuck in the past. I'm visiting someone who I haven't seen in a while today! Who knows when he's going to disappear again? And I have to meet Dexter at his lab for a surprise...Gosh, I haven't seen him in months...And Frankie asked me to come in Foster's Home...Wonder what that's all about...And Ben asked me to hang out with him and Gwen...And Blossom...' Before she knew it, (Y/n) drifted back into a peaceful sleep.

~That morning~

    Seven o'clock. The time when the sun was starting to peek over the hills that surrounded CN City. Sunlight bathed the town, and shined through the windows of the suburban houses and large buildings to awake the citizens. Past the suburbs and into the hills was a small isolated town where the sunlight hit its next house. In that house contained a not-so-human girl that once saved the planet: (Y/n) (L/n), the teenage deity.

    As the sunlight warmed her (S/C) skin, (Y/n)'s eyes fluttered open. She raised up on her bed and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, then put on a bright smile. 'Hate getting up this early, but it's going to be worth it!' she thought, then jumped out of bed.

     "First I have to drop off the cupcakes at the Powerpuff Girls' formal..." (Y/n) mumbled to herself as she got out her clothes from her closet. Once she put them on her bed, she grabbed her phone from her nightstand. With one push of a button, her phone came to life, and it displayed a message from five minutes ago.

    Ben: Good morning, beautiful~

    (Y/n) blushed and rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. Ever since the nineteen-year-old broke up with his girlfriend, Julie, he's been hitting on the superpowered woman. She hasn't really caught any feelings for him, but she thought his actions were cute! And she was sure Ben felt the same way. After giggling at the winky face sent after and replaying with a 'Morning, Tennyson', the nineteen-year-old put down her phone and put her attention on her necklace.

    Her smile slowly diminished. Subconsciously, she made her fingers lift the glass cage and graze over the gems. The same gems that saved numerous lives countless times. The same gems that turned her into unstoppable beings. The same gems that couldn't save her father-

    (Y/n) shook her head to get rid of an unpleasant memory. When her phone buzzed again, she forced her attention back to it. It was Ben again.

    Ben: You know where to meet up, right? Do I need to send you directions?

    (Y/n) snickered and began typing.

    Me: I know where to go! We're meeting up at the Townsville Park.

    Ben: Aaahn! Wrong!

    Confusion was written on her face.

    Ben: Haha, just kidding. Yeah, you're right.

    Me: Oh my gosh, Ben... See you there.

    (Y/n) smiled to herself as she headed towards the bathroom.

~

    About fifteen minutes later, (Y/n) was staring at herself dressed up in her bathroom mirror. Her (H/L) (H/C) hair was in her favorite signature style, she wore her favorite (S/F/C) shirt with the same-colored leggings and a (F/C) skirt, and a pair of (F/C) boots. To put a finishing touch, (Y/n) walked back to her room and put on the necklace. Instantly, energy surged through her body, and (Y/n) took in a deep breath as her powers settled in. Seconds later, a (F/C) light swirled around her irises before settling inside them, and her eyes returned to their (E/C) color. A confident smile was placed on her lips, and she headed downstairs.

    "Okay, green hockey cupcakes, puck fudge, chocolate chess queen cake, sugar cat cookies, blueberry puppy cake, strawberry pie in the shape of a book...Jeez, what was their theme again?" (Y/n) said as she set the containers of each dessert on the kitchen islands. She remembered when she agreed to do some of the baking for the Pokey Oats University formal to get some stress off of the girls' backs, but had forgotten again.

    Then it hit her: the deal was that Blossom, the head of the Honors Society, was originally going to host the event. However, since Buttercup and Bubbles thought it was unfair for Blossom to take the lead, the entire Powerpuff Girl Trio decided to do a theme of their interests. Buttercup represented the sports teams, Bubbles represented the local Townsville animal shelter she volunteered at, and Blossom represented the intelligence of the University.

    (Y/n) giggled to herself. "Those girls can never agree on one thing, huh? Now how am I going to carry these all the way to the University?" Her hand held her chin, and after a moment of thinking, an idea popped into her mind.

Her finger touched the gem to the far left of her necklace, and a (F/C) light surrounded her. (Y/n)'s original eye color turned back into (F/C) as (Y/n)'s body was lifted off the ground. Her hair extended to her feet as strands of (H/C) hair transformed into (S/F/C) colored ones, and it went back into her (but flashier) signature style. Her (F/C) skirt and (S/F/C) fused into a (F/C) dress with tiny (S/F/C) gems covering the bottom. (Y/n)'s necklace floated from her neck and onto the top of her head, forming a light (F/C) glowing halo. Finally, (F/C) wings sprouted from her back, and the light around her disappeared as she floated gracefully back onto the ground.

(Y/n) smirked. 'Angel Form. A little over the top for bringing sweets to a college, but hey, why not?' She held up her hands and an (F/C) glow outlined them. At the same time, another (F/C) glow outlined the sweets and they floated up in the air. "Alright, let's get going," (Y/n) said.

    She exited the front door and locked it behind her. With the desserts floating by her side, (Y/n) pushed herself up in the air and soared into the cloudless sky. 'Besides, I might run into some trouble while I'm out. It would be nice to get a little work out in the morning!'

    It was a perfect day in the heart of CN City. Humans and creatures of all kind roamed the streets as they went along with the day. Up in the sky, (Y/n) smiled down at the serene town. A couple people looked up and waved at the demi-goddess, which she returned. Once (Y/n) flew past the heart of the city, she saw the university up ahead, and she knew she was in Townsville at that point.

    The college grew larger in her view. She swung around the building and saw a separate one at the back. Her wings hung straight beside her, and (Y/n) slowly landed in front of the smaller building. Her feet gracefully touched the ground, and she walked through the opened doors.

    Immediately, she saw the honors society president in the middle of the gym. "Stephanie, go ahead and put the banner above the stage. Hannah, go check on Brian and Rosie to see if they got the balloons ready," Blossom ordered. (Y/n) grinned and approached her. "Hey, Red," she greeted.

    Blossom tensed up and turned to her with a pink tint on her cheeks. When she knew it was her friend, she immediately relaxed, but the pink tint didn't go away. "I told you not to call me that," she said, smiling. "Would you rather want me to call you Shortcake?" (Y/n) responded. Blossom's blush went deeper as she pouted and said, "Nevermind... Hey guys! Come get the desserts and store them in the refrigerators in the back, please."

    (Y/n) waved at the cakes, and they floated and rested into a couple of the students' arms. "Everything looks amazing, Blossom!" she complimented, observing the decorated gymnasium. "Thanks! We still have a few things to do, but the place should be ready for tomorrow night," Blossom informed. "Did you have to go in Angel Form just for this?"

    "No, but it was the first thing that came to mind." (Y/n) held onto her halo. After a small flash surrounded her body, she was back to her human self. "Hey, thanks, (Y/n). The desserts look awesome," Blossom said, her pink eyes softening.

    "No problem, Red," (Y/n) said. "I know how you are when you're stressed." The girls laughed.

   "So how are you and Dexter doing?" (Y/n) asked.

    Blossom's smile faltered. "Uh, fine!"

    (Y/n)'s smile faded completely as she raised an eyebrow. "I can tell something's wrong," she said. She knew that the nineteen-year-olds didn't really have a chance to interact as a couple much lately, but something else was off.

Blossom's eyes widened and she held up her hands. "N-No! Everything's cool!" she laughed. (Y/n) looked at her suspiciously and was about to press her again until a high voice called her name.

    "(Y/n)!!" Bubbles yelled, hugging the woman from behind. "AH! H-Hi, Bubbles," (Y/n) giggled, turning around to wrap her arms around the Pokey Oats cheer captain. She opened her blue eyes and gave her the kindest smile she's ever seen. "Did you bring them yet?!" she asked, bouncing. The purple octopus in her arms stared at (Y/n) with an empty smile.

    "Yep! Just like you asked," (Y/n) responded, pointing to the students who were hurrying to the back of the gym once they saw Bubbles. She squealed and ran over to them. "Ah! Bubbles, don't eat them yet!" Blossom scolded as she ran after her sister. (Y/n) laughed at her trying to hold her sister down, but as soon as she felt an unknown presence fly past her, her laughing ceased.

    She turned around, but all she saw were students carrying party objects and decorating the gym. "Hmm..." she mumbled, and her eyes widened when she sensed someone speeding right towards her. In the nick of time, (Y/n) ducked, and she only felt fabric just barely graze the back of her neck.

    Crash!

    (Y/n) stood up and almost put her hand on her necklace until she saw Buttercup rubbing her head and growling. At that moment, (Y/n) relaxed and smirked. "Hey, Buttercup," she said. The leader of the Pokey Oats hockey team looked up and scowled.

    "Don't look at me like that! The only reason you were able to dodge me was because of your stupid necklace," she snapped. (Y/n) looked down to see that one of the gems on her necklace was glowing. "Fair point," she said, snickering. Though, when she saw a red gash on Buttercup's forehead, her stomach dropped.

    "Oh my gosh!" (Y/n) said, running up to her. "Here." She kneeled down in front of her, and one of her hands held onto one of the gems while the other one hovered over her wound. "Hey, what're you-?" Buttercup started, but was cut off by (Y/n)'s hand glowing (F/C). The wound was then covered with an (F/C) coating and it closed up within a matter of seconds.

    (Y/N) grinned in relief. "You're so reckless," she acknowledged. A deep red hue covered Buttercup's pale cheeks, and she pouted while averting her green eyes. "Buttercup! What did I say about speeding inside the gym?" Blossom exclaimed. Her sister huffed as she got up and stomped off.

    "I'm so sorry about her, (Y/n). Ever since the hockey team has been threatened to shut down, she's been a little on edge," Blossom apologized. "It's no problem, really! I can take her," (Y/n) assured. Bubbles walked up to the duo while staring at Buttercup. "What's the deal with you guys anyway?" the blonde asked.

    "Buttercup wants to 'take me down', as she said in her own words. She thinks if she beats me, she'll be one of the strongest people on Earth, or something like that. I'm suprised she hasn't told you," (Y/n) explained. The two sisters exchanged confused glances.

    "THE STRONGEST!" Buttercup shouted, turning back to the trio. The girls laughed until (Y/n)'s phone buzzed. "What's wrong?" Blossom questioned. (Y/n) pulled out her phone from her pocket and saw that it was a reminder to meet with Dexter. "Crap! I forgot I had to meet Dexter at his lab. Sorry girls, I have to go."

    Bubbles whined as Blossom looked away with dejection in her eyes. (Y/n)'s eyes softened when they landed on her, and she put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll tell him you miss him," she reassured. Blossom smiled wearily, but her eyes still held sorrow.

    "And I'll miss you!" Bubbles whimpered, wrapping her arms around (Y/n) again. She smiled and ruffled her blonde hair. "I'll be back for the formal, silly," she said. Bubbles looked up at her and smiled, then flew off from the ground and to the stage. (Y/n) examined the area and saw a scowling Buttercup leaning against the wall.

    "Can't wait to see your outfit for tomorrow night," she commented. She whirled her head towards her and glared. "I'm not wearing a dress if that's what you're thinking!" she claimed, then zoomed off.

    (Y/n) laughed to herself and turned to Blossom. "Later, Red," she said, and after receiving a wave, she exited the gym.

~

    'Good thing the college isn't too far from Tech Square,' (Y/n) thought as she walked through the bustling city. Flying cars soared through the sky while colossal buildings towered the area. (Y/n) breathed in the clean urban air (thanks to a large air purifier that Dexter built a while ago), and a calming breeze flowed through her (H/L) hair. Apart from the blood-red factory building that was coming up in view, the city was as calm as ever.

    Soon, (Y/n) was in front of DexLabs. Its blue and white structure overlooked (Y/n)'s the small figure but in a comforting way. The teenager smiled as she thought of the times when the building used to be a normal house, and she and her friends would come to sleepover and look at all the inventions Dexter has made. However, thanks to them growing up, and the growing success of DexLabs, those times turned into distant memories.

    Those memories soon turned into reminders of Dexter's sister, Dee Dee. (Y/n) giggling at the times where she would constantly break his inventions, and while he was harshly scolding his sister, the younger version of (Y/n) would be laughing in the background. She remembered the day where Dee Dee had to go off to college, which was on the other side of CN City. She remembered how Dexter constantly asked her, Ben, and the PPG to come over so he wouldn't be lonely, even if he refused to admit it. She remembered how even after all that, Dexter became more reclusive and buried himself in his work instead of talking to any of his friends.

    Her smile faded. 'I'm glad that he asked me to come in today. I hope he isn't too overwhelmed with all this work,' (Y/n) thought, walking up to the glass door. She observed the many robots swarming around the place. The only thing that made her worried was that no human employees were around anywhere. 'He's getting so used to artificial life. I hope he takes a break from work and works on his human relationships.'

    Before (Y/n) walked into the building, she turned to the factory that was across Dexlabs. She held in the urge to roll her eyes at the dramatic scene: Rain clouds producing lighting, the glowing 'menacing' red lava mixed with the black paint, and the depressing background it was put in. (Y/n) stuck her tongue out at the place and went inside Dexlabs, secretly wondering what the factories' CEO was doing. 'Probably fawning over his Dee Dee shrine again.'

    "Greetings, (Y/n)." That robotic voice made (Y/n) jump and spin around. She laughed nervously at the sight of Computress, Dexter's assistant, staring at her with blank green eyes. "H-Hello, Computress," (Y/n) greeted.

    "It is nice to see you again," Computress started, smiling. "Dexter has requested your presence."

    "I'm aware of that," (Y/n) politely informed. "Do you know where he is?"

    "He is on level thirty. He will be delighted to see you."

    "Oh, really?"

    "Yes. He has been thrilled while waiting for your particular visit."

    (Y/N) beamed. "Thank you, Computress." The robotic assistant nodded and walked off. (Y/n) turned and headed towards the elevator at the end of the main room.

    She stepped in and pressed one of the buttons for level thirty. As the doors closed and the elevator lifted (Y/n) took a deep breath. 'When I see him, I'm going to give him a hug so bone-crushing so he'll feel how much I've missed him,' she planned. 'Then I'll beg him to come outside. Then I'll just drag him to the dreaded sunlight.'

    The elevator stopped and the doors opened. (Y/n)'s eyes widened at the sight of millions of machines stacked upon each other. The lights on the ceiling were mostly covered by the complex inventions, so any light barely made its way into the room. (Y/n)'s eyes narrowed angrily. 'He's been working like this for the past few months?! Ugh, I'm totally taking him home with me. He can't live like this.'

    (Y/n) traveled through the piles of impossibly possible machines. In the distance, she could see a bright light in the middle of the dull room, and she sped up. Walking around another stack, her eyes lit up when she saw the sight of her genius friend sitting at a desk piled with numerous amounts of papers.

    (Y/n) internally squealed, but instead of running up to Dexter and tackling him with a hug, she tiptoed her way up to him. On the way, she heard him mumbling something about new inventions and deadlines, and her happiness died a little inside. She stopped right behind him and leaned into his ear, thankful that he didn't notice her yet. "Hey, Einstein," she whispered.

    "GAH!" Dexter jumped up from his seat and pulled a weapon out of his lab coat, then aimed it at (Y/n). She didn't faze and only smirked deviously, watching as he caught his breath and took in who scared him. Slowly, he put the weapon down as his blue eyes softened, and he grinned at her.

    "Normally, I would have blasted your head off for doing such a malevolent act, but since I have not seen you in a while, I'll make an exception," he explained in his famous accent. (Y/n) giggled and embraced Dexter in that bone-crushing hug she planned for him. His small grin transformed into a wide smile as he wrapped his arms around her. A comforting silence was hanging in the air while they secretly recalled pleasant memories.

    (Y/n) tried to pull herself out of the hug, but the redhead's grip kept her in his embrace. "You missed me that much, dude?" she chuckled. He opened his eyes and quickly let go of her, blushing. "U-Uh! Don't get the wrong idea!" he shouted. (Y/n) laughed and ruffled his hair, but stopped when she got a good look at his face.

    Dark bags were under his eyes and the light blue in his eyes had almost turned grey. A couple of scratches covered his cheeks while a crack sat in the corner of the left lens of his glasses, and his lab coat was covered in dirt. Her eyes narrowed and Dexter noticed. "What's wrong?" he asked.

    "You," she said, and Dexter flinched, looking offended. "Have you been getting any sleep lately?" she asked.

    "Um, well..." he dragged on, and her eyes glared daggers into his soul. "Look, I'm sorry if my appearance worries you, (Y/n), but deadlines have been piling up on me," he explained, sitting back down at his desk.

    "Why don't you get Computress and your robot workers to help you with all this?" she said.

    "They do, but there are countless inventions that still need to be worked on. And those inventions are to be handled by me. No other robot or person can handle that job."

    (Y/n)'s eyes softened, and she approached him and wrapped her arms around him while putting her head on his shoulder. "I'm worried about you, Dexter," she confessed.

    Dexter tensed, and she could have seorn she saw his cheeks heat up. "(Y/n), I wanted this. The world needs me, and if this state and dependence on coffee is my price for it, then so be it." He yawned at the end of his sentence.

    (Y/N) sighed and turned Dexter around so he could face her. Her hands gripped onto his shoulders as she explained, "The world also needs you to be healthy. Sooner or later, you're going to collapse if you keep this up." Dexter frowned, averting his eyes from hers. (Y/n) wanted to smack him, but she held in the urges and gave him a smile. "Come on, a small break wouldn't hurt. You said you had a surprise for me, didn't you?"

    Dexter's eyes lit up. "Oh, of course! Follow me." The scientist got up and led the teenager to the other side of his lab. (Y/n) beamed with happiness and caught up with him. "I've been feeling guilty about missing your last birthday..." Dexter started.

    (Y/n) patted his back. "Worry about yourself first, dummy." Dexter let out a weak chuckle. "I will get to that. But I wanted to make up for it." As he finished, they approached a giant tube with (F/C) liquid inside of it. (Y/n)'s eyes glimmered with curiosity, and she gazed back at Dexter, who had a light pink tint dusted on his pale cheeks along with a shy smile. He went up to the tube and pressed the big red button beside it. A small hole opened at the bottom and sucked the liquid out, leaving a floating ring with an (F/C) gem that shined brighter than any star (Y/n) has ever seen.

    "Woah..." she uttered. Dexter observed her face as if he was trying to gain as much pride as he could. "I have noticed that you have a fondness for jewelry, so I decided to craft a small gift using platinum that little gem you like."

    She was about to approach the machine until Dexter predicted her actions. He gently put the ring in his gloved hand and proceeded towards (Y/n). She gasped softly when he carefully grabbed her hand and held it up to put the ring on her ring finger. At that point, (Y/n)'s (S/C) cheeks were the same color as Dexter's hair. She wanted to suppress her fluttering heart, but her feelings were too strong to be put down. She looked into his eyes; they were exhausted, but still held warmth. His lips were the same. "There's one more thing," he said. With her hand still in his palm, he pressed the gem, and it flipped up to reveal a picture of her and him alone together with happiness on their younger faces.

    Tears pricked her eyes and (Y/n) used her other hand to cover her mouth. "Dexter..." she managed to say after a few moments. "This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done to me. Thank you so much." She lightly pulled her hand away and held it in her chest, looking away.

    Dexter's smile dissolved. "Something's wrong, isn't there?" he predicted. (Y/n)'s turned back towards him. "No, I-...I just thought..." Her fluttering heart started to crack. "I just thought this would be something you'd do for Blossom..."

    The redhead's hand went by his side. The warmth in his eyes transformed back into dullness while a frown held onto his lips. "We broke up," he admitted.

    (Y/n)'s eyes widened with shock. "What? When? What happened?" She started following him when he began walking back to his desk.

    "A few weeks ago. It started out fine until we began fighting. Then there were the silent treatments and the making-ups, and back to fighting...It got out of hand, and that was when we stopped talking to each other entirely." He came to a halt at his desk with his back facing her. (Y/n) stopped and held a saddened look in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said, deciding whether or not to hug him again. Though, when he turned around, he made the decision for her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

    "Don't apologize. I believe we have made the right decision. We don't love each other like we used to," he mumbled in her ear. (Y/n) put her arms around his waist. "You guys are still friends, though, right?"

    Dexter pulled away and smiled. "Of course." The two pulled away slightly but didn't break apart. Dexter looked as if he wanted to say something else, which sparked (Y/n)'s interest. "Something's wrong, isn't there?" she repeated what he said earlier, smirking. This time, Dexter didn't laugh. (Y/n) put a hand on his strangely warm cheek and brought his attention over to her.

    "You can tell me." He was hypnotized by her stare for a moment before he shut his eyes tightly. "(Y-Y/n), I r-"

    "Dexter."

    The duo yelped and whirled around to see Computress. "Computress, I'm the middle of something!" Dexter barked. "You are required to attend a meeting in fifteen minutes," she continued. Dexter glanced at (Y/n) before turning back to his robot assistant.

    "Whatever happened to you attending the meetings for me?" he inquired. "Professor Utonium wishes to meet you in person."

    Dexter fell silent. "Professeor Utonium?" (Y/n) asked. "I work with him," Dexter responded. (Y/n) felt her shoulders slump, but she remembered her meeting with Ben. She walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

    "We can finish talking later. I'm sure this is important, and you need to shower. Seriously."

    Dexter snickered. "I'll see you later, (Y/n)," he said, turning to her. (Y/n) responded with a "Bye Dexter," and walked out of the lab, hearing a defeated sigh behind her.

~

    "AHH!"

    As soon as (Y/n) entered the Townsville park, people were running past her with fear on their faces. "What the heck?" she mumbled, then ran deeper into the park. When she set foot in the heart of the small forest, she stopped once her eyes laid on Ben in his human form in front of a giant green monster.

    Its slime dripped on his green jacket, but Ben was too focused on hitting his Omnitrix. (Y/n) heart pounded in panic. "Ben! What are you doing?!" (Y/n) yelled. "My Omnitrix! I-It's not working!" he shouted. The slime monster continued to emerge from the trees, its red eyes glaring down at him. (Y/n) could see the trees sticking to the monster.

    'I gotta help him!' (Y/n) declared. She gripped onto her necklace and felt herself float off the ground. With (F/C) light taking over her body, her normal outfit transformed into a tight (F/C) jumpsuit with (S/F/C) colored streaks down her thighs and across her chest. Her body disappeared, and her invisible self flew right into the monster. 'Ew...' she thought but kept her composure. Once she was in the middle of its body, she held her breath and held onto her necklace again.

    The light covered her once more, and she felt her ears turning pointier while feeling her clothes becoming looser. With her hair transforming into a long thin braid, her eyes glowed their signature color. (Y/n) held up her hands and quickly created a forcefield around the smaller version of her body, and she enlarged that shield to blow up the monster to bits.

    Free from the inside of the monster, (Y/n) breathed in the fresh air and gently floated back onto the ground. She opened her eyes and grimaced at the sight of slime all over her simple (F/C) dress. Ben held a dumbfounded face the whole time, but when her glowing eyes spotted him, he gave her a charming grin. "Did I ever tell you looked incredibly cute in your elf form?" he asked playfully.

    (Y/n) scoffed. "Tennyson. Nice to see you and your..." She hesitated when she focused on his superpowered watch. "...malfunctioning Omnitrix." The grin Ben held turned into a frown once he laid eyes on his weapon. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Something's been going on with my Omnitrix lately. I haven't been able to summon any alien forms. It's like its energy is just...gone."

    Just when (Y/n) was about to respond, two of her other friends came running towards them. "Sorry we're late," Gwen said, catching her breath. Kevin approached Ben and looked over his shoulder. "So your Omnitrix isn't working, huh?" he said.

Ben turned to him and shook his head.

    "Have you tried turning it off and turning it back on?" he asked. They all looked at him as if he just said that superpowers were a myth. "...(Y/N), can you please help us?" Gwen asked.

    "What do you need help with?" (Y/N) responded.

    "We need you to tap into Ben's Omnitrix to see what's going on."

(Y/n) gasped softly. "What? I-I mean, I could, but what about you, Gwen? Can't you use your spellbook to do that?"

Gwen sighed and took the purple and gold spellbook out of her backpack. She lightly grazed her fingertips and said, "I can't." (Y/n)'s eyes widened. "What? What happened?"

    "I don't know! My magic has been weakening for the past couple of weeks, and now I can hardly do anything. A lot of my spells have been unsuccessful, including the ability to magically communicate. And it's not only us. We've heard that most of the imaginary friends back at Foster's home came down with a mysterious illness." She put the book back in her bag and approached (Y/n). "(Y/n), please. If your magic hasn't been affected like this, we need your help."

    (Y/n) hesitated, but comforted her friends with a smile. "Why should I refuse? I'm more than happy to help."

Gwen let out a sigh of relief. "What about you, Kevin?" (Y/n) asked, turning to the dark brunet. "Have your powers been weird lately?"

    "I can still turn into any object I touch, but it seems to be getting more difficult."

    "Hmm..." (Y/n) walked up to Ben and touched the Omnitrix with her fingertips. She took in the silence around as she breathed in, letting all of her thoughts and emotions melt away. She tilted her head back, feeling her braid flow in the wind, and took in one last deep breath before her vision turned white.

    EEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHH!!!

    "GAH!" (Y/n) yelled, jumping back. The others flinched as the girl caught her breath. Her heart raced inside of her as if it was about to burst out of her chest. Her face was covered in sweat, and her hand quickly held onto her necklace to turn back into human form.

    "(Y/n)! Are you okay?" Ben said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I..." (Y/n) started. "I saw static..."

The trio went silent before Gwen spoke up. "What do you mean by that?"

    "I mean I saw literal static. And there was screaming too..." Ben's face was covered in horror. "Ben, who did you fight before your Omnitrix became like this?" (Y/n) asked, looking up at him.

    "Nobody. This monster was the only enemy I saw within the past few weeks." Gwen and Kevin looked around at the leftover green slime as if they had just noticed they were there.

    Once (Y/n) retreated back to her original form, she spotted a familiar symbol on the ground. A giant red M with little black spikes on the side reminded her of an annoying brat accompanied by a weirdly hypnotizing laugh. "Mandark..." she mumbled.

    "Maybe he has something to do with this," Gwen guessed, narrowing her green eyes. "Then let's get this prick and earn some answers!" Kevin declared, then ran towards the direction of Tech Square. "I'll check in with Nigel and Jack to see if they're alright, and see if Jack knows anything too. I'll head over to Foster's Home too. That's probably why they needed me..." (Y/n) said, mumbling the last part.

    Gwen nodded and headed after Kevin. Ben started to run after them but turned back to (Y/n). "Hey, (Y/n)?" he said. She turned around and saw him with a bashful grin. "Thanks for the information. Maybe we should-"

    "Ben!" Gwen grabbed his wrist and forcefully pulled him in her direction. "Not now!" she yelled, and they disappeared behind the trees. (Y/n) tilted her head in confusion, but shrugged it off and headed towards the Numbuh One's house.

~

    "Nigel!" (Y/n) yelled as she ran up to the treehouse. She knew that she didn't have time, but memories of her and the KND flashed in her mind.

    The sleepovers with the smell of hot chocolate and junk food. The presentations of weird but fun weapons to use against despicable adults. The immature nonstop laughter from when they teased Numbuh Four for liking a girl. (Y/n) was friends with the KND, so much so that they were like the siblings she never had. These memories made the worry within her fade.

    But as she rang the doorbell to Nigel Uno's house, she recalled another memory. It was Nigel the week before his thirteenth birthday. He was raging towards the other kids about how he didn't want to grow up and leave the KND. Numbuh Three hundred sixty-two and a couple of other kids were trying to calm him down, but it only intensified his frustration. (Y/n) heard it all from Numbuh five. When she went to visit him afterward, it was the first time she ever saw him crying.

    The rest of his team had their memories wiped willingly. Some broke down, but they did it together. After that, they were just regular teenagers. (Y/n) had to get to know them all over again.

    At the time he was finally thirteen and was about to get his memory wiped, he gave into the memory. However, when (Y/N) came to visit him again, he told her his entire plan of going with the Teens Next Door. Ever since then, he's been going on secret missions by himself trying to get his friends back.

    "(Y/n)?" Nigel Uno asked while waving a hand in her face, snapping (Y/n) out of her trance. "Ah! Hey Nigel!" (Y/n) yelled, trying to seem cool by leaning her arm against the doorframe.

    Her friend's grin was filled with chaff. "So I'm guessing you didn't hear a word I said."

    Her cool composure disappeared. "Uh..." she trailed off with an embarrassed blush on her cheeks. Nigel chuckled and gently held onto her hand. "Come on. I need to show you something," he said, pulling her into his house.

    "The T.N.D. and I have been getting recent reports of strange occurrences around the city," he informed as they got to his backyard and into the treehouse.

    "And these reports were...?" (Y/n) asked, trying to ignore the dull emptiness of the treehouse. It was upsetting without the rest of Nigel's team with him: The studious Numbuh Two, the high-spirited Numbuh Three, the courageous Numbuh Four, and the feisty Numbuh Five. They were still there, but at the same time, they weren't.

    "Any sort of technology has been malfunctioning. When it was fixed, they were only able to work for a certain amount of time. It seems that the less advanced it is, the more defective it will be." They approached a room with a large screen above a display of buttons.

    "My computer has only had minor issues, but I managed to track the bigger problems." Nigel pushed up his sunglasses and pressed a few buttons, and presented before (Y/n) was a map with red and orange dots covering most of it.

    "These dots represent the malfunctions. The orange ones represent the minor issues, and even over some people, who I assume have those magic powers. The red ones are a bit more interesting."

    "What do you mean?" (Y/n) questioned.

    "These reports have been saying that through static, there have been strange faces appearing and disappearing. All of them aren't clear, but some have said they've managed to see some sort of small monster with red eyes. A few people even said they've been hearing screaming too."

    A feeling of dread took over (Y/n). "H-Holy..." she stuttered. The eighteen-year-old examined her reaction before he continued. "Just yesterday, orange dots appeared over Mandark Industries."

    "Mandark? Then Dexter would be at risk too! And if that happens..."

    "Then all our technology might collapse, and people who possess any sort of power will lose every ounce."

    Nigel looked as if he wanted to point out something else, but he kept quiet. However, (Y/n) already knew what it was as she glanced down at her necklace with concern. "What could be causing this?" she wondered.

    "We don't know, but whatever it is, we need some sort of protection against it. Have you ever experienced anything weird with your power within the past few weeks?"

    (Y/n) looked down at her necklace again. She gazed deep into it and sensed for any imperfections, but it looked the same as ever. "No, my powers have been working just fine."

    "Hmm...Okay, I need you to report this to Dexter. I already got the news about Ben and Foster's Home, so we'll need to keep an eye on them. I'm going to check in with the KND bases on other planets to see if they're still running fine."

    "KND bases? But you aren't-"

    "I know. Even so, I made a voice changer so my voice can sound like their new leader, Numbuh Three hundred sixty-three."

    (Y/n) opened her mouth until she recalled the old supreme leader of the KND, Numbuh Three Hundred Sixty-Two, having her memory wiped a few months after Nigel. She began walking out of the room but was stopped by the former Numbuh One. "Hey, be careful out there, (Y/n). We don't know what to expect." She turned to him and gave him her famous confident expression.

    "You know I'm always careful, chief." She winked at him, and he made a 'tch' sound accompanied by a smile. "No you're not," he said, snickering. (Y/n) giggled and walked out of the treehouse.

    Once she reached the outside, that smile was wiped off of her face. She made the mistake of looking up at the sky when she saw something abnormal in the corner of her eye. When she did, her eyes went small at the sight of a small green dot.

    (Y/n) shook her head and opened her eyes again. It was still there. She rubbed her eyes and looked back up. It was still there. (Y/n) felt the dread inside of her becoming bigger and bigger, and she soon found herself running towards Tech Square, unaware of one of the brightly glowing gems on her necklace. She didn't know what that green dot was, but her instincts told her that it was far from good.

~

    "Ahem, Saturnbase? This is Numbuh three hundred sixty-three, come in, Saturnbase," Nigel said into the radio in a high pitched female voice. No reply. Sweat dripped down his face as he pressed another button.

    "Jupitarbase? Is anybody there?". Nobody answered. "Plutobase! If anyone's there, please respond!" Silence.

    Nigel stepped and watched the screen show three separate information boxes. All of them had the name of the KND bases, and what caused him to have a pang of distress was the name 'offline' under all of them. 'Something's not good...I need to warn them!'

    He quickly ran out of the room, not caring about the consequences if he showed up to the KND moonbase. As he headed towards the underground where his old rocketship, the screens behind him turned to static. And within that static was a green blob begging for help.

#cartoons #fusionfall #wattpad #writing #ben 10 omniverse #powerpuff girls #fanfiction #dexter's laboratory #cartoon network #x reader

[love-pyramus]

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NAME: ___________________________________ ROLE: ____________________________________ 2 NEWSIES ACT ONE PROLOGUE: Rooftop, Dawn #1- Overture (Summer, 1899. A figure sleeps peacefully on a rooftop amid the moonlit Manhattan cityscape. It is JACK, a charismatic boy of seventeen. Across the rooftop, another figure stirs. CRUTCHIE, a slight and sickly boy of fifteen, walks with the aid of a wooden crutch. He crosses to the fire escape ladder and fumbles, trying to climb down. JACK stirs.) #2- Santa Fe (Prologue)- Jack, Crutchie JACK: Where you going? Morning bell ain’t rung yet. Get back to sleep. CRUTCHIE: I wanna beat the other fellas to the street. I don’t want anyone should see; I ain’t been walkin’ so good. JACK: Quit gripin’. You know how many guys fake a limp for sympathy? That bum leg of yours is a gold mine. CRUTCHIE: Someone gets the idea I can’t make it on my own, they’ll lock me up in The Refuge for good. Be a pal, Jack. Help me down. (loses his footing and almost falls, yelps.) Whoa!!!! (JACK rushes to CRUTCHIE’S rescue, pulling him back from danger.) JACK: You wanna bust your other leg, too? CRUTCHIE: No. I wanna go down. JACK: You’ll be down there soon enough. Take a moment to drink in my penthouse high above the stinkin’ streets of New York. CRUTCHIE: You’re crazy. JACK: Because I like a breath of fresh air? ‘Cause I like seein’ the sky and the stars? CRUTCHIE: You’re seein’ stars all right! JACK: Them streets down there sucked the life right outta my old man. Years of rotten jobs, stomped on by bosses. And when they finally broke him, they tossed him to the curb like yesterday’s paper. Well, they ain’t doin’ that to me. CRUTCHIE: But everyone wants to come here. JACK: New York’s fine for those what can afford a big strong door to lock it out. But I tell you, Crutchie, there’s a whole other way out there. So you keep your small life in the big city. Give me a big life in a small town. THEY SAY FOLKS IS DYIN’ TO GET HERE, ME I’M DYIN’ TO GET AWAY TO A LITTLE TOWN OUT WEST THAT’S SPANKIN’ NEW AND WHILE I AIN’T NEVER BEEN THERE I CAN SEE IT CLEAR AS DAY IF YOU WANT, I BET’CHA YOU COULD SEE IT TOO 3 CLOSE YOUR EYES, COME WITH ME WHERE IT’S CLEAN AND GREEN AND PRETTY AND THEY WENT AND MADE A CITY OUTTA CLAY WHY, THE MINUTE THAT YA GET THERE FOLKS’LL WALK RIGHT UP AND SAY ”WELCOME HOME, SON WELCOME HOME TO SANTA FE!” (CRUTCHIE is taken under JACK’S spell.) PLANTIN' CROPS, SPLITTIN' RAILS SWAPPIN' TALES AROUND THE FIRE 'CEPT FOR SUNDAY WHEN YOU LIE AROUND ALL DAY SOON YOUR FRIENDS ARE MORE LIKE FAMILY AND THEY'S BEGGIN' YOU TO STAY! AIN'T THAT NEAT? LIVIN' SWEET, IN SANTA FE CRUTCHIE: You got folks there? JACK: Got no folks nowhere. You? CRUTCHIE: I don’t need folks. I got friends. JACK: How’s about you come with me? No one worries about no gimp leg in Santa Fe. You just hop a palomino and ride in style. CRUTCHIE: Feature me: ridin’ in style. JACK: I bet a few months of clean air and you could lose that crutch for good. JACK & CRUTCHIE: SANTA FE, YOU CAN BET WE WON’T LET THEM TOUGH GUYS BEAT US WE WON’T BEG NO ONE TO TREAT US FAIR AND SQUARE THERE'S A LIFE THAT'S WORTH THE LIVIN' AND I'M GONNA DO MY SHARE JACK: WORK THE LAND, CHASE THE SUN JACK & CRUTCHIE: SWIM THE WHOLE RIO GRANDE JUST FOR FUN! CRUTCHIE: (stands on his own.) WATCH ME STAND! WATCH ME RUN... (CRUTCHIE realizes his recover is just a fantasy, and turns away from JACK.) JACK: Hey... (CRUTCHIE looks at him. JACK wraps his arms around his friend protectively.) DON'T YOU KNOW THAT WE'S A FAMILY? WOULD I LET YOU DOWN? NO WAY JUST HOLD ON, KID 'TIL THAT TRAIN MAKES SANTA FE (CRUTCHIE leans against JACK as the sun rises behind them. The church bell tolls 5 a.m., which breaks the spell.) JACK: Time for dreamin’s done. (JACK takes CRUTCHIE’S crutch and bangs it on the fire escape metal, sounding an alarm.) Hey! Specs, Racer, Henry, Albert, Elmer. Get a move on, boys. Them papes don’t sell themselves! #2A- Prologue (Playoff) SCENE ONE: Newsboys’ Lodging House & Newsie Square (RACE, a little tough guy, calls to the others as he dresses.)

4 RACE: Hey, Albert, Elmer, Specs! You heard Jack. Get a move on. (ALBERT appears next to him, still wiping the sleep from his eyes.) ALBERT: I was havin’ the most beautiful dream. My lips is still tingling. RACE: A pretty girl? ALBERT: A leg of lamb! #3- Carrying the Banner- Jack, Newsies, Nuns (More BOYS begin to appear as they dress and wash. ALBERT smokes a cigar.) RACE: Hey! That's my cigar! ALBERT: YOU'LL STEAL ANOTHER. SPECS: (Referring to the other BOYS,) HEY, LOOK, IT'S BATH TIME AT THE ZOO. HENRY: I THOUGHT THAT I'D SURPRISE MY MOTHER. ALBERT: If you can find her. NEWSIES: Who asked you? ALBERT: Papes ain’t movin’ like they used to. I need a new sellin’ spot. Got any ideas? RACE: FROM BOTTLE ALLEY TO THE HARBOR THERE'S EASY PICKIN'S GUARANTEED. FINCH: TRY ANY BANKER, BUM OR BARBER. THEY ALMOST ALL KNOWS HOW TO READ. JACK: IT'S A CROOKED GAME WE'RE PLAYIN', ONE WE'LL NEVER LOSE LONG AS SUCKERS DON'T MIND PAYIN' JUST TO GET BAD NEWS! (The NEWSIES move outdoors to the Newsie Square.) NEWSIES: AIN'T IT A FINE LIFE CARRYING THE BANNER THROUGH IT ALL! A MIGHTY FINE LIFE CARRYING THE BANNER TOUGH AND TALL. WHEN THAT BELL RINGS, WE GOES WHERE WE WISHES. WE'S AS FREE AS FISHES, SURE BEATS WASHIN' DISHES. WHAT A FINE LIFE, CARRYING THE BANNER HOME FREE ALL! (KATHERINE, a lovely young lady, walks by with a friend. ROMEO spots her and starts towards her, but JACK sees her too.) ROMEO: Well, hello, hello, hello, beautiful. JACK: Step back, Romeo. Nothin’ what concerns you here. (moves ROMEO aside and shoots to KATHERINE.) Morning Miss. Can I interest you in the latest news? KATHERINE: The paper isn’t out yet. JACK: I’d be delighted to bring it to you personally. KATHERINE: I’ve got a headline for you: “Cheeky Boy Gets Nothing for His Troubles!” (KATHERINE brushes past JACK and joins her friend.) ROMEO: Back to the bench slugger. You struck out. JACK: (Feigning pain) I’m crushed. FINCH: Hey, Crutchie. What's your leg say? Gonna rain? CRUTCHIE: (shakes his leg) No rain. Partly cloudy. Clear by evening. FINCH: They oughta bottle this guy. RACE: And the limp sells fifty papes a week all by itself. CRUTCHIE: I don't need the limp to sell papes. I got personality. IT TAKES A SMILE THAT SPREADS LIKE BUTTER 5 THE KIND WHAT TURNS A LADY'S HEAD. RACE: IT TAKES AN ORPHAN WITH A STUTTER, FINCH: WHO'S ALSO BLINDALBERT: AND MUTEELMER: AND DEAD! JACK & CRUTCHIE: SUMMER STINKS AND WINTER'S FREEZIN' WHEN YOU WORKS OUTDOORS. JACK, CRUTCHIE, BUTTONS, SPLASHER, & TOMMY BOY: START OUT SWEATIN', END UP SNEZIN', NEWSIES: IN BETWEEN IT POURS! STILL IT'S A FINE LIFE, CARRYING THE BANNER WITH ME CHUMS, (STILL IT’S A FINE LIFE, CARRYING THE BANNER) A BUNCH OF BIG SHOTS, TOSSIN' OUT A FREEBIE TO THE BUMS. (A BUNCH OF BIG SHOTS, TOSSIN’ OUT A FREEBIE) FINCH: (calling to the NEWSIES) HEY! WHAT'S THE HOLD UP? WAITIN' MAKES ME ANTSY. I LIKES LIVIN' CHANCEY NEWSIES: HARLEM TO DELANCEY. WHAT A FINE LIFE CARRYING THE BANNER THROUGH THE... (A group of NUNS appears and distributes a breakfast of coffee and doughnuts to the NEWSIES) NUNS: BLESSED CHILDREN, THOUGH YOU WANDER LOST AND DEPRAVED, JESUS LOVES YOU. YOU SHALL BE SAVED. ELMER: Thanks for the grub, Sistuh. NUN 1: Elmer, when are we going to see you inside the church? ELMER: I don’t know, Sistuh. But it’s bound to rain sooner or later. (SIMULTANEOUS) NUNS: BLESSED CHILDREN, AH. JESUS LOVES YOU, AH RACE: CURDLED COFFEE, CONCRETE DONUTS SPRINKLED WITH MOLD, HOMEMADE BISCUITS, JUST TWO YEARS OLD. ELMER: JUST GIVE ME HALF A CUP. HENRY: SOMETHING TO WAKE ME UP. ROMEO: I GOTTA FIND AN ANGLE. TOMMY BOY: IT'S GETTING BAD OUT THERE. MUSH: PAPERS IS ALL I GOT. SPECS: IT'S EIGHTY-EIGHT DEGREES. JO JO: JACK SAYS TO CHANGE MY SPOT. ALBERT: WISH I COULD CATCH A BREEZE. FINCH: MAYBE IT'S WORTH A SHOT. BUTTONS: ALL I CAN CATCH IS FLEAS. JACK: IF I HATE THE HEADLINE. I'LL MAKE UP A HEADLINE. JACK & A FEW NEWSIES: AND I'LL SAY ANYTHING I HAVE'TA JACK & MORE NEWSIES: 'CAUSE AT TWO FOR A PENNY, IF I TAKE TOO MANY WEASEL JUST MAKES ME EAT 'EM AFTA.

(The NEWSIES continue their journey through downtown Manhattan.) NEWSIE GROUP 1: (SIMULTANEOUSLY WITH NEWSIE GROUP 2 BELOW): GOT A FEELIN' 'BOUT THE HEADLINE! I SMELLS ME A HEADLINE! PAPES ARE GONNA SELL LIKE WE WAS GIVIN' 'EM AWAY! 6 BET'CHA DINNER IT'S A DOOZY, 'BOUT A PISTOL-PACKIN' FLOOZY WHO KNOWS HOW TO MAKE A NEWSIE'S DAY NEWSIE GROUP 2: I DO, TOO! SO IT MUST BE TRUE! WHAT A SWITCH! SOON WE'LL ALL BE RICH! DON'T KNOW ANY BETTER WAY TO MAKE A NEWSIES DAY! NEWSIES: YOU WANNA MOVE THE NEXT EDITION? GIVE US AN EARTHQUAKE OR A WAR. ELMER: HOW 'BOUT A CROOKED POLITICIAN? NEWSIES: YA NITWIT, THAT AIN'T NEWS NO MORE! UPTOWN TO GRAND CENTRAL STATION, DOWN TO CITY HALL, WE IMPROVES OUR CIRCULATION WALKIN' 'TILL WE FALL! NEWSIE GROUP 1 (SIMULTANEOUS WITH NEWSIE GROUP 2 BELOW): BUT WE'LL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER MAN TO MAN. WE'RE ALWAYS OUT THERE SOAKIN' EV'RY SUCKER THAT WE CAN. HERE'S THE HEADLINE: NEWSIES ON A MISSION! KILL THE COMPETITION! SELL THE NEXT EDITION! WE'LL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! SEE US OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! ALWAYS OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! NEWSIE GROUP 2: GOT A FEELIN' 'BOUT THE HEADLINE! I SMELLS ME A HEADLINE! PAPES ARE GONNA SELL LIKE WE WAS GIVIN' 'EM AWAY! BET'CHA DINNER IT'S A DOOZY 'BOUT A PISTOL-PACKIN' FLOOZY! DON'T KNOW ANY BETTER WAY TO MAKE A NEWSIE'S DAY! I WAS STAKIN' OUT THE CIRCUS, AND THEN SOMEONE SAID THAT CONEY'S REALLY HOT, BUT WHEN I GET THERE, THERE WAS SPOT WITH ALL HIS CRONIES. HECK, I'M GONNA TAKE WHAT LITTLE DOUGH I GOT AND PLAY THE PONIES! WE AT LEAST DESERVE A HEADLINE FOR THE HOURS THAT THEY WORK US. JEEZ, I BET IF I JUST STAYED A LITTLE LONGER AT THE CIRCUS... (The NEWSIES have arrived at the locked gate in front of the World- a prominent newspaper owned by Joseph Pulitzer.) FINCH: Hey, look! They’re puttin’ up the headline. SPECS: I hope it’s really bloody. With a nice clear picture. ROMEO: Please be murder, please be a murder! (A large chalkboard looms above. The NEWSIES watch in anticipation as a MAN writes the headline in large letters, “TROLLEY STRIKE ENTERS THIRD WEEK.”) ELMER: The trolley strike? IKE: Not again! RACE: Three weeks of the same story. FINCH: They’re killin’ us with that snoozer. SCRUB: I was hopin’ to eat today. (Two tough-looking boys, OSCAR and MORRIS DELANCEY, unlock the gates.) MORRIS: Make way. Step aside. 7 RACE: Dear me, what is that unpleasant aroma? I fear the sewer may have backed up during the night. PEPPER: Or could it be... NEWSIES: ...the Delancey brothers. FINCH: Hey, Oscar, word on the street says you and your brother took money to beat up striking trolley workers. OSCAR: So? It’s honest work. ALBERT: But crackin’ the heads of defenseless workers? OSCAR: I take care of the guy who takes care of me. RACE: Ain’t your father one of the strikers? OSCAR: Guess he didn’t take care of me! (As if to make his point, MORRIES grabs CRUTCHIE and throws him to the ground.) MORRIS: You want some of that too? Ya lousy crip! (JACK pulls CRUTCHIE back to his feet and then confronts the DELANCEYS. The NEWSIES back up to give JACK room.) JACK: Now that’s not nice, Morris. RACE: Five to one Jack skunks ‘em! SWISH: My money’s on Jack! JACK: One unfortunate day you might find you got a bum gam of your own. How’d you like us pickin’ on you? Maybe we should find out. (And with that, Jack takes CRUTCHIE’S walking stick and smacks the DELANCEYS in the shins, knocking them both to the ground.) OSCAR: Wait till I get my hands on you. JACK: Ya gotta catch me first. (A chase ensues as the NEWSIES sing and dance their way in through the front gate....) NEWSIES: WE'LL ALL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER MAN TO MAN. WE'RE ALWAYS OUT THERE SOAKIN' EV'RY SUCKER THAT WE CAN. HERE'S THE HEADLINE: “NEWSIES ON A MISSION!” KILL THE COMPETITION! SELL THE NEXT EDITION! WE'LL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! SEE US OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! ALWAYS OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! AH, AH, AH, GO! (The NEWSIES arrive at the distribution windows of the World. WIESEL, an ill-tempered, rumpled man,

appears with the DELANCEYS to collect the money and distribute the papers to the NEWSIES.) WIESEL: Papers for the Newsies! Line up! (JACK is first to the window.) JACK: Good morning, Weasel. Did you miss me? WIESEL: That’s Wise-el. JACK: Ain’t that what I said? (Slapping down his money.) I’ll take the usual. WIESEL: A hundred papes for the wise guy. (OSCAR hands over the papers and RACE moves up to the window.) RACE: How’s it going, Weasel? WIESEL: At least call me “mister.” RACE: I’ll call you sweetheart if you’d spot me fifty papes. (The other NEWSIES laugh.) WIESEL: Drop the cash and move it along. 8 RACE: (slapping down his coin) Whatever happened to romance? WIESEL: Fifty for the Race. Next! CRUTCHIE: Good morning, Mr. Wiesel. WIESEL: Fifty papes for Crutchie. (DAVEY, a 17-year-old-boy who appears out of his element, and his kid brother LES, are next in line.) Have a look at this: a new kid. LES: I’m new too! KNUCKLES: Ya don’t say. RACE: Don’t worry, kid- rubs right off. DAVEY: I’ll take twenty newspapers, please. WIESEL: Twenty for the new kid. Let’s see the dime. DAVEY: I’ll pay you when I sell them. WIESEL: Funny, kid. C’mon, cash up front. DAVEY: But whatever I don’t sell, you buy back, right? WIESEL: Certainly. And every time you lose a tooth I put a penny under your pillow. This kid’s a riot. C’mon. Cough up the cash or blow. (Davey hands over a dime, gets his papers, and looks them over.) Come on, move along. Albert, lemme see your money. ALBERT: You have a very interestin’ face. Ever think of getting’ into the movin’ pictures? WIESEL: You think I could? ALBERT: Sure. Buy a ticket, they let anyone in. WIESEL: Beat it, will ya? DUCKY: Twenty papers please. DAVEY: Sorry. Excuse me. I paid for twenty but you gave me nineteen. (EVERYONE freezes and watches. JACK swoops in and quickly counts the papers.) WIESEL: You seen how nice I was to dis new kid? And what did I get for my civility? Ungrounded accusations. DAVEY: I just want what I paid for. OSCAR: He said beat it! (The DELANCEYS start to crack their knuckles.) JACK: New kid’s right, Weasel. Ya gave him nineteen. I’m sure it was an honest mistake on account’a Oscar can’t count to twenty with his shoes on. (OSCAR threatens to attack. WIESEL pushes him back and tosses another paper to DAVEY.) WIESEL: Here. Now take a hike. JACK: (flipping a coin onto the counter) Give him another fifty papes. DAVEY: I don’t want more papes. JACK: What kind’a Newsie don’t want more papes? (Oscar hands DAVEY a stack of papers. DAVEY follows JACK with them.) DAVEY: I’m no charity case. I don’t even know you. LES: His name’s Jack. CRUTCHIE: This here is the famous Jack Kelly. He once escaped jail on the back of Teddy Roosevelt’s carriage. Made all the papes. JACK: (to LES) How old are you, kid? LES: I’m ten. Almost. JACK: If anybody asks, you’re seven. Younger sells more papes, and if we’re gonna be partners.... DAVEY: Who said we want a partner? CRUTCHIE: Sellin’ with Jack is the chance of a lifetime. You learn from him, you learn from the best. 9 DAVEY: If he’s the best, what’s he need with me? JACK: ‘Cause you got a little brother and I don’t. That face could sell a thousand papes a week. (to LES) Look sad, kid. (LES makes a sad face.) We’re gonna make millions. LES: This is my brother David. I’m Les. JACK: Nice to meet ya, Davey. My two bits come off the top, and we split everything 70-30. LES: 50-50! You wouldn’t try to pull a fast one on a little kid. JACK: 60-40 and that’s my final offer. LES: Deal. (JACK spits in his hand and holds it out to shake. LES copies him and they shake.) DAVEY: That’s disgusting. JACK: It’s just business. (to ALL) Newsies, hit the streets. The sun is up, the headline stinks, and this kid ain’t getting’ any younger! #3- Carrying The Banner (Tag)- Newsies NEWSIES: WE'LL ALL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER MAN TO MAN. WE'RE ALWAYS OUT THERE SOAKIN' EV'RY SUCKER THAT WE CAN. HERE'S THE HEADLINE: “NEWSIES ON A MISSION!” KILL THE COMPETITION! SELL THE NEXT EDITION! WE'LL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER!

SEE US OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! ALWAYS OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! AH, AH, AH, GO! (The NEWSIES exit as the scene shifts to...) SCENE TWO: Pulitzer’s Office, Afternoon (Editor SEITZ, secretary HANNAH, and accountant BUNSEN huddle in a business meeting. The mogul, JOSEPH PULITZER, is having his hair cut by NUNZIO, the barber.) PULITZER: Staff, the World is in trouble. Our circulation is down for the third quarter in a row. SEITZ: But, Mr. Pulitzer, every paper’s circulation is down since the war ended. PULITZER: Whoever said, “war is a tragedy”, wasn’t trying to sell newspapers. BUNSEN: We could use an exciting headline. PULITZER: What have we got today? SEITZ: The trolley strike. PULITZER: That’s not exciting? It’s epic! HANNAH: It’s boring. Folks wanna know, “Is the trolley comin’ or ain’t it?” No one cares why. SEITZ: And the strike’s about to be settled. Governor Roosevelt just put his support behind the workers. PULITZER: That man is a socialist. SEITZ: Teddy Roosevelt is no socialist. He’s an American hero. PULITZER: The man wants to outlaw football for being too violent. Football! Violent?! You’re right. He’s not socialist. He’ a commie! NUNZIO: Mr. Pulitzer, please, you must try to sit still. PULITZER: Gentlemen, please, you are making Nunzio nervous. And when Nunzio gets nervous, I don’t look pretty. (PULITZER sits back.) HANNAH: You never liked Roosevelt. You wrote and editorial against him day after day when he ran for governor. And guess what? He got elected. PULITZER: How can I influence voters if they’re not reading my opinion? 10 SEITZ: Big photos attract readers. PULITZER: Do you know what big photos cost? BUNSEN: But without flashy photos or headlines, how are we supposed to sell more papers. PULITZER: There’s an answer right before your eyes. You’re not thinking this through. People... #3- The Bottom Line- Pulitzer, Seitz, Bunsen, Hannah PULITZER: NUNZIO KNOWS WHEN HE’S CUTTING MY HAIR TRIM A BIT HERE AND THEN TRIM A BIT THERE JUST A MODEST ADJUSTMENT CAN FATTEN THE BOTTOM LINE NUNZIO: Mr. Pulitzer, please. PULITZER: SHAVING IS TRICKY: THE RAZOR SHOULD FLOAT SHAVE ME TOO CLOSE, AND YOU MAY CUT MY THROAT IT’S THE SIMPLEST SOLUTIONS THAT BOLSTER THE BOTTOM LINE BUNSEN: But how does that help us sell more papers? HANNAH: We don’t sell papers, silly, Newsies sell papers. BUNSEN: I’ve got it! Right now we charge the Newsies fifty cents for a hundred papers. PULITZER: Yes... BUNSEN: But if we raised their price to sixty cents per hundred... PULITZER: Now you’re getting somewhere... SEITZ: A mere tenth of a penny per paper. BUNSEN: Every single Newsie would have to sell twenty-five more papers just to earn the same amount as always. PULITZER: My thoughts exactly. It’s genius. HANNAH: It’s going to be awfully rough on those children. PULITZER: Nonsense. I’m giving them a real life lesson in economics. I couldn’t offer them a better education if they were my own. GIVE ME A WEEK AND I’LL TRAIN THEM TO BE, LIKE AN ARMY THAT’S MARCHING TO WAR PROUD OF THEMSELVES AND SO GRATEFUL TO ME, THEY’LL BE BEGGING TO PAY EVEN MORE! WHEN THERE’S DIRT ON OUR SHOES, BOYS, YOU HAVE TO RELAX! WHY THROW THEM OUT? ALL WE NEED IS SOME WAX LISTEN WELL TO THESE BARBERSHIP LESSONS FOR THEY’LL SEE YOU THROUGH! SIETZ, HANNAH & BUNSEN: WHEN YOU’RE STUCK IN THE MUCK, YOU’LL BE FINEYOU’LL ERASE ANY TRACE OF DECLINE SEITZ: WHAT A TRIM! HANNAH: AND A SNIP! BUNSEN: AND A SHINE! PULITZER: AND THE POWER OF PRESS, YES! ONCE AGAIN IS MINE! PULITZER: The price for the Newsies goes up in the morning! PULITZER: JUST A FEW COMMON CENTS, GENTS, THAT’S THE BOTTOM LINE! SIETZ, HANNAH & BUNSEN: EV’RY NEW OUTCOME IS INCOME FOR YOU, THANKS TO THAT BOTTOM LINE! (The lights shift from the office to the NEWSIES during the scene transition.) #4A- Carrying The Banner (Reprise)- Newsies 11 NEWSIES: SUN UP TO SUNDOWN, KNOWIN’ WHERE MY CUSTOMERS’LL BE SUN UP TO SUNDOWN, WATCHIN’ ALL THE LADIES WATCHIN’ ME WALKED MY SHOES OFF, GOT THE DOUGH TO SHOW IT PROBABLY I’LL BLOW IT, THEN BEFORE YOU KNOW IT WE’LL BE OUT THERE, CARRYING THE BANNER….

(The scene shifts to...) SCENE THREE: A Street Corner (JACK leans against a building as DAVEY attempts to peddle papers to a GROUP OF GIRLS.) GIRL 1: And he said I couldn’t see him again! GIRL 2: Who? Your father? GIRL 1: Yeah, just because he didn’t… GIRL 3: Wait, I thought he worked for him? DAVEY: Paper. Paper. Evenin’ pape here. Care for a paper ladies? (The GIRL GROUP giggles) GIRL 2: No thanks. GIRL 3: He was cute! JACK: Sing ‘em to sleep why dontcha? (Snatches a paper from DAVEY and hawks it.) Extra! Extra! Terrified flight from burnin’ inferno! You heard the story right here! PASSERBY: Oh no! What burned down? (PASSERBY snatches the paper from JACK, hands him a coin JACK: Thanks madam! (PASSERBY opens the paper and exits in a rush.) DAVEY: You made that up. JACK: Did not. I said he heard it right here, and he did. DAVEY: My father taught us not to lie. JACK: And mine taught me not to starve. (LES comes up empty-handed.) LES: Hey! I just sold my last paper. DAVEY: I got one more. JACK: Sell it or pay for it. LES: Give it here. (takes the paper, sidles up to a WOMAN and SALLY passing by, and puts the saddest look on his face.) Buy a paper from a poor orphan boy? (LES coughs gently.) WOMAN: Oh, you dear thing. Of course I’ll take a newspaper. Here’s a dime. (The WOMAN and SALLY exit with the paper. SALLY turns and smiles at LES before leaving.) JACK: Born to the breed. LES: This is so much better than school! DAVEY: Don’t even think it. When Pop goes back to work, we go back to school. (While the boys talk, SNYDER, a sinister looking man, sees JACK and steps back again a building. He seems excited to have spotted the boy. Cautiously, he flags down a POLICEMAN and whispers to him.) JACK: So’s how about we divvy up the money, grab some chow, then find you’s somewhere save to spend the night? DAVEY: We gotta get home. Our folks will be waitin’ dinner. JACK: Ya got folks, huh? LES: Doesn’t everybody? DAVEY: (Elbows his brother) Our dad tangled with a delivery truck on the job. Messed his leg up bad, so 12 they laid him off. That’s how come we had to find work. JACK: Yeah, sure, that makes sense. Too bad about your dad. DAVEY: Why don’t you come home with us for dinner? Our folks would be happy to have you. LES: Mom’s a great cook. JACK: Thanks for the invite, but I just remembered I got plans with a fella. He’s probably waiting on me right now. (SNYDER and the POLICEMAN have been slowly moving toward the BOYS. LES spots them and points.) #5- The Chase LES: Is that the guy you’re meetin’? (JACK looks up and sees SNYDER.) SNYDER: Kelly! JACK: (grabbing LES) Run for it! SNYDER: Officer, grab him! You, Jack Kelly, stop! Kelly! (JACK, DAVEY, and LES leap onto a fire escape ladder and take off. The POLICEMAN and SNYDER try to follow. The BOYS climb over the roof and back down the other side, into the flies of a burlesque house.) SCENE FOUR: Medda’s Theater JACK: Slow down. We lost ‘em. DAVEY: Someone want to tell me why I’m running? I got no one chasing me. Who was that guy? JACK: That was Snyder the Spider. A real sweetie. He runs a jail for underage kids called The Refuge. The more kids he locks up, the more money the city pays him. Problem is, all the money goes straight to his own pocket. Do yourself a favor and stay clear of him and The Refuge. (MEDDA LARKIN, a burlesque star, appears in a revealing costume. The EMCEE and two showgirls, the BOWERY BEAUTIES, get ready for the performance.) MEDDA: Hey, you up there, shoo! No kids allowed in the theater. JACK: Not even me, Miss Medda? MEDDA: (recognizing the intruder) Jack Kelly, man of mystery. Get yourself down here and give me a hug. Where have you been keepin’ yourself, kid? (JACK, DAVEY, and LES come down to the stage.) JACK: Never far from you, Miss Medda. Boys, may I present Miss Medda Larkin: the greatest star on the Bowery today. She also owns the joint. MEDDA: The only thing I own is a mortgage. Pleasure, gents. DAVEY: A pleasure. (DAVEY bows gallantly, but LES just stands wide-eyed, staring at the BOWERY

BEAUTIES. DAVEY smacks him.) What’s wrong with you? LES: Are you blind? She got no clothes on! DAVEY: That’s her costume. LES: But I can see her legs! MEDDA: (to DAVEY) Step out of his way so’s he can get a better look. Theater’s not only entertaining, it’s educational. (posing) Got the picture, kid? JACK: Miss Medda, I got a little situation out on the street. Mind if I hide out here a while? MEDDA: Where better to escape trouble than a theater? Is Snyder after you again? LES: Hey Jack, did you really escape jail on the back of Teddy Roosevelt’s carriage? DAVEY: What would the Governor be doing at a juvenile jail? JACK: So happens he was runnin’ for office and wanted to show he cared about orphans and such. So while he got his mug in the paper, I got my butt in the back seat and we rode together. 13 LES: You really know the Governor? MEDDA: He don’t, but I do! Say, Jack, when you’ve got time, I want you to paint me some more of these backdrops. (Indicates a park scene drop behind her) This last one you did is a doozy. Folks love it. And things have been going so well that I can actually pay. JACK: I couldn’t take your money, Miss Medda. LES: You pictured that? MEDDA: Your friend is quite an artist. JACK: I don’t get carried away. It’s a bunch of trees. DAVEY: You’re really good. MEDDA: That boy’s got natural aptitude. LES: Geez. I never knew no one with a aptitude. (The EMCEE calls to her.) EMCEE: Miss Medda, you’re on! MEDDA: (strikes a pose) Yeah? How’m I doin’? (to the BOYS) Boys, lock the door and stay all night. You’re with Medda now! EMCEE: (announcing MEDDA as she moves toward the stage) Ladies and gentleman, please welcome the star of our show.... Miss Medda Larkin! (MEDDA is captured in a spotlight. The BOYS watch from the wings, completely entranced, while she performs to the crowd of NY CITIZENS.) #6- That’s Rich- Medda MEDDA: I'M DOING ALL RIGHT FOR MYSELF FOLKS: I'M HEALTHY, I'M WEALTHY, I'M WISE. MY INVESTMENTS AND SUCH HAVE ALL GONE UP SO MUCHSEEMS WHATEVER I TOUCH STARTS TO RISE. I’VE BEEN ALL KINDS OF LUCKY AND YET THE THING I WANT MOST...I CAN'T GET. I LIVE IN A MANSION ON LONG ISLAND SOUND. I PULLED UP A WEED, THEY FOUND OIL IN THE GROUND. BUT YOU TELLING ME YOU DON'T WANT ME AROUNDNOW, HONEY, THAT'S RICH. (to audience members) SOME GUYS GIVE ME ERMINE, CHINCHILLA AND MINK AND GIVE ME DIAMONDS AS BIG AS A SINK, BUT YOU WOULDN'T GIVE ME AS MUCH AS A WINKNOW, BABY, THAT'S RICH. I GET BRANDY FROM ANDY AND CANDY FROM SCOTT. OH, AND FRANK AND EDUARDO CHIPPED IN FOR A YACHT. I GET STARES FROM THE FELLAS AND PRAYERS FROM THE POPE, BUT I RAN OUT MY LUCK GETTING STUCK WITH THIS MOPE! MEDDA: (to audience member) Oh, honey, I was just talking about you! (To “Him”) NOW, LISTEN, SPORT, THIS LIFE'S TOO SHORT TO WASTE IT ON YOU. IT MAY BE ROUGH, BUT SOON ENOUGH I'LL LEARN TO MAKE DO….WITH THE MANSION, THE OIL WELL, THE DIAMONDS, THE YACHT, 14 WITH ANDY, EDUARDO, THE PONTIFF AND SCOTT AND FRANK. AND MY BANK! SO SPILL NO TEARS FOR ME, 'CAUSE THERE'S ONE THING YOU AIN'T THAT I'LL ALWAYS BE, AND HONEY, YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT, THAT'S RICH! THAT'S RICH! THAT'S RICH! MEDDA: That’s rich! (MEDDA bows. JACK’s eyes are drawn to a box seat out front where KATHERINE sits watching the show. The set shifts as he crosses the stage and climbs the stairs.) #6A- I Never Planned On You/Don’t Come a-Knocking- Jack, Bowery Beauties MEDDA: And now, gents, let’s have a big hand for the Bowery Beauties! (The BOWERY BEAUTIES begin to dance.) BOWERY BEAUTIES: DON’T COME A-KNOCKING ON MY DOOR JACK: (climbs into the box) Well, hello again. KATHERINE: This is a private box. JACK: (Moving closer) Want I should lock the door? (Moving closer still) Twice in one day. Think it’s fate? KATHERINE: (Dismissive) Go away. I'm working. JACK: A working girl, huh? Doin’ what? KATHERINE: Reviewing the show for the New York Sun. JACK: Hey! I work for the World. KATHERINE: Somewhere out there someone cares. Go tell them. JACK: The view’s better here. KATHERINE: Please go. I am not in the habit of speaking to strangers. JACK:

Then you’re gonna make a lousy reporter. The name’s Jack Kelly. KATHERINE: Is that what it says on your rap sheet? JACK : A smart girl. I admire smart girls. (Admiring KATHERINE) Beautiful. Smart. Independent. KATHERINE: (Getting loud) Do you mind!? MEDDA: (Hollering up to JACK and KATHERINE) You got in for free. At least pay attention. JACK: Sorry Medda. (KATHERINE returns to watching the show, but JACK only has eyes for her. He takes a piece of newsprint ad a pencil in his pocket and begins to sketch of portrait of her. The image of the drawing appears in projections behind them.) JACK: I GOT NO USE FOR MOONLIGHT OR SAPPY POETRY. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT'S FOR SUCKERS, AT LEAST IT USED TO BE. LOOK, GIRLS ARE NICE, ONCE OR TWICE, TILL I FIND SOMEONE NEW, BUT I NEVER PLANNED ON SOMEONE LIKE YOU. (Sings simultaneously with the Bowery Beauties) I GOT NO USE FOR MOONLIGHT OR SAPPY POETRY. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT'S FOR SUCKERS, AT LEAST IT USED TO BE. JACK: NO, I NEVER PLANNED ON NO ONE LIKE YOU. BOWERY BEAUTIES: DON'T COME A KNOCKING ON MY DOOR. 15 YOU AREN'T WELCOME HERE NO MORE. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN YOU STUNK LIKE YESTERDAY'S TRASH THE NIGHT YOU STOLE MY HEART PLUS FORTY DOLLARS IN CASH. TURNS OUT MY BEAU IS JUST SOME BUM. TURNS OUT THAT LOVE AIN'T BLIND, IT'S DUMB. YOU NEVER TOLD THE TRUTH OR WORKED A DAY IN YOUR LIFE. IN FACT, YOU'RE SO REVOLTIN', I FEEL BAD FOR YOUR WIFE. KATHERINE: What are you doing? JACK: Quiet down. There's a show going on. KATHERINE: You are the most impossible boyJACK: Shhh! KATHERINE: Ever. BOWERY BEAUTIES: I WON'T BE SHAVING YOUR BACK ANYMORE, NO, SENOR. JACK: NO, I NEVER PLANNED ON NO ONE LIKE YOU. BOWERY BEAUTIES: DON'T COME A-KNOCKING ON MY DOOR! BOWERY BEAUTIES: DON'T COME A-KNOCKING ON MY DOOR! BOWERY BEAUTIES: DON'T COME A-KNOCKING ON MY DOOR! (JACK places the newsprint on the empty chair as he exits. KATHERINE looks at it and sees the portrait of herself, beautifully rendered. We can almost see her blush.) #6B- To the Distribution Window SCENE FIVE: Newsie Square, Next Morning (A few NEWSIES convene outside the distribution window of the World as the circulation bell tolls.) SPLASHER: Them fire sirens kept me awake all night. MUSH: Sirens is like lullabies to me. The louder they wail the better the headline. And the better the headline, the better I eat. And the better I eat... SPLASHER: (cutting MUSH off) ...the further away from you I sleep! (LES and DAVEY arrive.) DAVEY: ‘Morning, everybody. Sorry we’re late. GUM GUM: You didn’t miss nothin’ yet. NEWBY: What made your mornin’ excitin’ this early? DAVEY: We had to help our mom with something. RACE: They gotta mudder? I was gonna get me one. ROMEO: What’d you do with the one you had? BUTTONS: He traded her for a box of cigars. RACE: They was Coronas! LES: We have a father too. BUTTONS: A mudder and a fodder. RACE: Ain’t we the hoi polloi? LES: So, how’s it going today? TOMMY BOY: Ask me after they put up the headline. (LES looks up to read it.) CHICKLET: Here it comes now. 16 ALBERT: (reading) “New Newsie Price: Sixty Cents Per Hundred.” MUSH: What’d you say? (The NEWSIES begin to take notice.) DAVEY: Is that news? MIKE: It is to me. ALBERT: They jacked up the price of papes. RACKET: Ten cents more a hundred! ELMER: I can eat two days on a dime. CRUTCHIE: I’ll be sleepin’ on the street. JO JO: You already sleep on the street. CRUTCHIE: In a worse neighborhood. (JACK arrives.) SALAMI: Wait’ll Jack hear’s about this. IKE: He’s gonna lose it. CRISS-CROSS: Here he comes now! KNUCKLES: Jack, check this out. JACK: What’re you all standin’ around for? CRUTCHIE: Get a load of this, Jack. ROMEO: Like Pulitzer don’t make enough already? CHICKLET: The rich gotta get richer…. CURLY: While we all gotta starve ta death. (WIESEL opens his window for business. He stares at the NEWSIES with a malevolent smile.) WIESEL: Papes for the Newsies. JACK: Relax. It’s gotta be a gag. WIESEL: Line up, boys. (JACK goes up to the window and slaps his money down.)

JACK: Good joke, Weasel. Really got the fellas goin’. I’ll take a hundred and be on my way. WIESEL: A hundred’ll cost ya sixty. JACK: I ain’t payin’ no sixty— WIESEL: Then make way for someone who will. (SPECS and a few more NEWSIES arrive.) JACK: You bet! Me and the fellas will take a hike over to The Journal. NEWSIES: YEAH!!! SPECS: I’ll save you the walk. They upped their price too. JACK: Then we’ll take our business to the Sun! WIESEL: It’s the same price all around town. New day. New price. BUDDY: Why the jack-up? WIESEL: For them kind’a answers you gotta ask a little further up the food chain. So, you buyin’ or movin’ on? JACK: C’mere fellas. (The NEWSIES huddle together as a gang.) FINCH: They can’t just do that, can they? RACE: Why not? It’s their paper. CRUTCHIE: It’s their world. HENRY: Ain’t we got no rights? CRUTCHIE: We got the right to starve. C’mon, let’s get our papes and hit the streets while we still can. HENRY: At them prices? CRUTCHIE: We got a choice? PICKLES: If it’s the same everywhere, then I don’t see another option. 17 JACK: Hold on. Nobody’s payin’ no new nothin’. TOMMY BOY: You got a idea? SCRUB: What is it Jack? JACK: Keep your shirt on. Lemme think this through. BUTTONS: What’s your angle? (LES pushes the other boys away.) SPLASHER: Let’s hear the idea, Jack! LES: Stop crowdin’ him. Let the man work it out. (The NEWSIES back up and watch JACK think.) Hey, Jack, you still thinkin’? RACE: Sure he is. Can’t you smell smoke? DUCKY: I don’t get it. JACK: All right, here’s the deal: if we don’t sell papes, then no one sells papes. Nobody gets to that window till they put the price back where it belongs. DAVEY: You mean like a strike? JACK: You heard Davey. We’re on strike. DAVEY: Hold on. I didn’t say— JACK: We shut down this place like them workers shut down the trolleys. FINCH: And the cops will bust our heads! TOMMY BOY: Half them strikers is laid up with broke bones. JACK: Cops ain’t gonna care about a bunch of kids. Right, Davey? DAVEY: Leave me out of this. I’m just trying to feed my family. JACK: And the rest of us is on playtime? Just because we only make pennies don’t give nobody the right to rub our noses in it. DAVEY: It doesn’t matter. You can’t strike. You’re not a union. JACK: And what if I says we is? DAVEY: There’s a lot of stuff you gotta have in order to be a union. RACKET: Like what? DAVEY: Like membership. JACK: What do you call these guys? DAVEY: And officers. CRUTCHIE: I nominate Jack President! (The NEWSIES cheer their approval.) JACK: Gee, I’m touched. DAVEY: How about a statement of purpose? JACK: Must’a left it in my other pants. RACE: What’s a statement of purpose? DAVEY: A reason for forming the union. JACK: What reason did the trolley workers have? DAVEY: I don’t know. Wages? Work hours? Safety on the job? JACK: Who don’t need that? Bet if your father had a union you wouldn’t be out here sellin’ papes right now. Yeah? DAVEY: Yeah. JACK: So, our union is hereby formed to watch each other’s backs. “Union’d we stand.” Hey, that’s not bad. Somebody write that down. LES: I got a pencil. JACK: Meet our Secretary of State. Now what? 18 DAVEY: If you want to strike, the membership’s gotta vote. JACK: So let’s vote. What do you say, fellas? The choice is yours. Do we roll over and let Pulitzer pick our pockets, or do we strike? NEWSIES: Strike!!!!!! #7- The World Will Know- Jack, Davey, Les, Crutchie, Newsies JACK: You heard the voice of the membership. The Newsies of Lower Manhattan are now officially on strike. What next? CRUTCHIE: Wouldn’t a strike be more effective if someone in charge knew about it? RACE: It would be a pleasure to tell Weasel myself. JACK: Yeah? And who tells Pulitzer? Davey? DAVEY: I don’t know… I guess… (giving in) You do, Mr. President. JACK: That’s right, we do! (To DAVEY, a bit hushed.) What do we tell ‘em? DAVEY: The newspaper owners need to respect your rights as employees. JACK: (Loudly to the group.) Pulitzer and Hearst gotta respect the rights of the workin’ kids of this city. DAVEY:

They can’t just change the rules when they feel like it. JACK: That’s right. We do the work, so we get a say. DAVEY: (finally committing) We’ve got a union. NEWSIES: Yeah! JACK: PULITZER AND HEARST, THEY THINK WE'RE NOTHING'. ARE WE NOTHIN'? NEWSIES: NO! DAVEY: They need to understand that we’re not enslaved to them. We’re free agents. JACK: PULITZER AND HEARST, THEY THINK THEY GOT US. DO THEY GOT US? NEWSIES: NO! DAVEY: We’re a union now – the Newsboys’ Union – and we mean business. JACK: EVEN THOUGH WE AIN'T GOT HATS OR BADGES, WE'RE A UNION JUST BY SAYING SO. AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW. FINCH: What’s to stop some other kids comin’ along to sell our papes? ALBERT: Just let ‘em try! DAVEY: No! We can’t beat up on the other kids. We’re all in this together. JACK: (ignoring DAVEY) WHAT'S IT GONNA TAKE TO STOP THE WAGONS? ARE WE READY? NEWSIES: YEAH! JACK: WHAT'S IT GONNA TAKE TO STOP THE SCABBERS? CAN WE DO IT? NEWSIES: YEAH! JACK: WE'LL DO WHAT WE GOTTA DO UNTIL WE BREAK THE WILL OF MIGHTY BILL AND JOE. NEWSIES: AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW. AND THE JOURNAL TOO. JACK & DAVEY: MISTER HEARST AND PULITZER, HAVE WE GOT NEWS FOR YOU. NEWSIES: SEE, THE WORLD DON'T KNOW, BUT THEY'RE GONNA PAY. JACK & DAVEY: 'STEAD OF HAWKIN' HEADLINES WE'LL BE MAKIN' 'EM TODAY. NEWSIES: AND OUR RANKS WILL GROW, CRUTCHIE: AND WE'LL KICK THEIR REAR! NEWSIES: YEAH! AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW THAT WE BEEN HERE. JACK: WHEN THE CIRCULATION BELL STARTS RINGING, WILL WE HEAR IT? NEWSIES: NO! 19 JACK: WHAT IF THE DELANCEY'S COME OUT SWINGING? WILL WE HEAR IT? NEWSIES: NO! WHEN YA GOT A HUNDRED VOICES SINGING, WHO CAN HEAR A LOUSY WHISTLE BLOW?AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW THAT THIS AIN'T NO GAME, THAT WE GOT A TON OF ROTTEN FRUIT AND PERFECT AIM. SO THEY GAVE THEIR WORD. WELL, IT AIN'T WORTH BEANS. NOW THEY'RE GONNA SEE WHAT "STOP THE PRESSES" REALLY MEANS. AND THE OLD WILL WEEP, AND GO BACK TO SLEEP. AND WE GOT NO CHOICE BUT TO SEE IT THROUGH, RACE: AND WE FOUND OUR VOICE, SPECS: AND I LOST MY SHOE! NEWSIES: AND THE WORLD WILL- (The scene transitions to the gate. JACK climbs up to the chalkboard and writes down “STRIKE” over the other headlines.) NEWSIES: Yeah!! JACK: PULITZER MAY OWN THE WORLD BUT HE DON'T OWN US! NEWSIES: PULITZER MAY OWN THE WORLD BUT HE DON'T OWN US! JACK: PULITZER MAY CRACK THE WHIP BUT HE WON'T WHIP US! NEWSIES: PULTIZER MAY CRACK THE WHIP BUT HE WON'T WHIP US! AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW WE BEEN KEEPIN' SCORE. EITHER THEY GIVES US OUR RIGHTS OR WE GIVES THEM A WAR. WE BEEN DOWN TOO LONG, AND WE PAID OUR DUES. (The NEWSIES make their way to the front door of the World.) CRUTCHIE: AND THE THINGS WE DO TODAY WILL BE TOMORROW'S NEWS. NEWSIES: AND THE DIE IS CAST, AND THE TORCH IS PASSED. NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND A ROAR WILL RISE… NEWSIES GROUP 2: …FROM THE STREETS BELOW, NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND OUR RANKS WILL GROW… NEWSIES GROUP 2: …AND GROW NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND GROW NEWSIES: AND SO THE WORLD WILL FEEL THE FIRE AND FINALLY KNOW! (The NEWSIES open the doors. JACK, DAVEY, and LES enter and the doors close behind them. The NEWSIES wait in anticipation. Then the doors fly open and a GUARD throws JACK, DAVEY, and LES out.) GUARD: And stay out! LES: (yelling back) You can tell Pulitzer that a few days into this strike, he’s gonna be beggin’ for an appointment to see me! You got that? (Doors Slam.) He got it. NEWSIES: PULITZER MAY OWN THE WORLD BUT HE DON'T OWN US! JACK: PULITZER MAY OWN THE WORLD BUT HE DON'T OWN US! NEWSIES: PULITZER MAY CRACK THE WHIP BUT HE WON'T WHIP US! JACK: PULITZER MAY CRACK THE WHIP BUT HE WON'T WHIP US! NEWSIES: SO THE WORLD SAYS "NO!" WELL THE KIDS DO TOO! TRY TO WALK ALL OVER US, WE'LL STOMP ALL OVER YOU! CRUTCHIE: CAN THEY KICK US OUT? TAKE AWAY OUR VOTE? 20 NEWSIES: WILL WE LET 'EM STUFF THIS CROCK OF GARBAGE DOWN OUR THROAT? NO! EVERYDAY WE WAIT IS A DAY WE LOSE! NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND THIS AIN'T FOR FUN! NEWSIES GROUP 2: AND IT AIN'T FOR SHOW! NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND WE'LL FIGHT 'EM TOE NEWSIES GROUP 2: TO TOE NEWSIES GROUP 1: TO TOE! NEWSIES: AND JOE, YOUR WORLD WILL FEEL THE FIRE AND FINALLY, FINALLY KNOW!

SCENE SIX: Jacobi’s Deli & Street, Afternoon (The NEWSIES settle in at their favorite hangout. The proprietor, MS. JACOBI, arrives with a tray of glasses, which he proceeds to hand out.) MS. JACOBI: And here we go... a glass of water for you. And one for you. And one for you. And you. And, ah, who’s the big spender what ordered the seltzer? ALBERT: Over here. MS. JACOBI: And that’ll be two cents. ALBERT: Two cents for a glass of seltzer? Just gimme water. MS. JACOBI: (switching out glasses) How did I ever see that coming? SWISH: Could I get a water too? PEPPER: Oh! Me too! NEWBY: Me too! GUM GUM: Over here as well! MIKE: Just bring another round of waters please. MS. JACOBI: Yeesh. Let me do the dishes to get a few more glasses clean first. (She exits.) DAVEY: (toasting) I’d say we launched our strike in a most auspicious manner. (The NEWSIES try to figure out what DAVEY said.) MUSH: I don’t know about that, but we sure scared the bejeebers outta Weasel! CRUTCHIE: Did you see the Delanceys? PICKLES: They didn’t know which way was up. JACK: (to DAVEY) So, what’s next? DAVEY: Now you have to spread the word. Let the rest of the city’s Newsies know about the strike. JACK: You heard the man. Let’s split up and spread the word. MUSH: I’ll take Harlem. RACE: I got midtown. JO JO: I got the Bronx. BUTTONS: And I got the Bowery. JACK: Specs, you take Queens. Tommy Boy, you take the Eastside. And who wants Brooklyn? (The NEWSIES cringe and look away.) C’mon. Brooklyn. Spot Conlon’s turf. Finch, you tellin’ me you’re scared of Brooklyn? FINCH: I ain’t scared of no turf. But that Spot Conlon got me a little jittery. JACK: Fine. Me and Davey will take Brooklyn. DAVEY: (still struggling) Me? I have to...(KATHERINE enters) KATHERINE: Why’s everyone so scared of Brooklyn? JACK: (smiling) What’re you doin’ here? 21 KATHERINE: Asking a question. Have you got an answer? JACK: Brooklyn is the sixth largest city in the entire world. You got Brooklyn, you hit the mother load. (sidling up to KATHERINE) For someone who works for the New York Sun, you spend an awful lot of time hanging around at the World. So, what’s that about? You followin’ me? KATHERINE: The only thing I’m following is a story. A rag-tag gang of ragamuffins wants to take on the kingmakers of New York. Think you have a chance? JACK: Shouldn’t you be at the ballet? KATHERINE: Question too difficult? I’ll rephrase: will the richest and most powerful men in New York give the time of day to a gang of kids who haven’t got a nickel to their name? CRUCHIE: You don’t gotta be insultin’. I got a nickel. KATHERINE: So I guess you’d say you’re a couple of Davids looking to take on Goliath? DAVEY: We never said that. KATHERINE: You didn’t have to. I did. JACK: I seen a lot of papers in my time and I ain’t never noted no girl reporters writing hard news. KATHERINE: Wake up to the new century. The game’s changing. How about an exclusive interview? JACK: Ain’t your beat entertainment? KATHERINE: This is entertaining... so far. JACK: What’s the last news story you wrote? KATHERINE: What’s the last strike you organized? ROMEO: (pushing his way in) You’re out of your league, Kelly. Methinks the lady needs to handled by a real man. KATHERINE: (waving him off) You thinks wrong, Romeo. ROMEO: How’d she know my name? DAVEY: (to JACK) I say we save any exclusive for a real reporter. KATHERINE: (Almost angry) You see somebody else giving you the time of day? (desperate) Alright, so I’m just busting out of the social pages. But you give me the exclusive, let me run with the story, and I promise you I’ll get you the space. CRUTCHIE: You think we could be in the papes? KATHERINE: Shut down a paper like the World and you’re going to make the front page. JACK: You want a story? Be in front of the circulation gate tomorrow morning and you’ll get one. And bring a camera. You’re gonna wanna snap a picture of dis. (MS. JACOBI comes to shoo the NEWSIES out.) MS. JACOBI: Let’s go, boys, play outside. I gotta set up for dinner. I got payin’ customers need tables. #8-

The World Will Know (Reprise)- Jack, Davey, Les, Newsies FINCH: C’mon. We got Newsies to visit. RACE: You won’t be shooin’ us off when we gets our mugs in the papes! (The NEWSIES exit the deli and head to the street.) NEWSIES: AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW, WE BEEN KEEPIN' SCORE. EITHER THEY GIVES US OUR RIGHTS OR WE GIVES THEM A WAR. WE BEEN DOWN TOO LONG, AND WE PAID OUR DUES. AND THE THINGS WE DO TODAY WILL BE TOMORROW'S NEWS. AND THE DIE IS CAST, AND THE TORCH IS PASSED. NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND A ROAR WILL RISE… 22 NEWSIES GROUP 2: …FROM THE STREETS BELOW, NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND OUR RANKS WILL GROW… NEWSIES GROUP 2: …AND GROW NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND GROW NEWSIES: AND SO THE WORLD WILL FEEL THE FIRE AND FINALLY KNOW! DAVEY: Come on, Les. The folks are waiting. (The Newsies disperse as DAVEY and LES head home. JACK lingers behind with KATHERINE.) KATHERINE: So, what’s your story? Are you selling newspapers to work your way through art school? JACK: Art school? Are you kiddin’ me? (KATHERINE holds up the drawing that JACK did of her.) KATHERINE: But you’re an artist. You’ve got real talent. You should be inside the paper illustrating, not outside hawking it. JACK: Maybe that ain’t what I want. KATHERINE: So tell me what you want. JACK: (shamelessly flirting) Can’t you see it in my eyes? KATHERINE: Have you always been their leader? JACK: I’m a blowhard. Davey’s the brains. KATHERINE: Modesty is not a quality I would have pinned on you. JACK: You got a name? KATHERINE: Katherine... Plumber. JACK: What’s the matter? Ain’t ya sure? KATHERINE: It’s my byline, the name I publish under. Tell me about tomorrow. What are you hoping for? JACK: I’d rather tell you what I’m hoping for tonight. KATHERINE: Mr. Kelly.... JACK: Today we stopped our Newsies from carrying out papes, but the wagons still delivered to the rest of the city. Tomorrow, we stop the wagons. KATHERINE: Are you scared? JACK: Do I look scared? But ask me again in the morning. KATHERINE: (writes down the quite and starts to exit) Good answer. Good night, Mr. Kelly. JACK: Come on, where you runnin’? It ain’t even supper time! #9- Watch What Happens- Katherine KATHERINE: I’ll see you in the morning. And, off the record, good luck. JACK: Hey, Plumber. Write it good. We both got a lot ridin’ on you. (JACK walks off as KATHERINE heads to her office.) SCENE SEVEN: Katherine’s Office (KATHERINE sits down at her desk and begins to write her article) KATHERINE: You heard the man, “Write it good.” Write it good, or it’s back to wheezing your way through the flower show. No pressure. Let’s go. (typing) “Newsies Stop the World.” A little hyperbole never hurt anyone. (typing again) “With all eyes fixed on the trolley strike, there’s another battle brewing in the city...” (pulls paper out of the typewriter and rips it up) ...and if I could just write about it... (puts a fresh piece of paper in the typewriter) Come on, Katherine, the boys are counting on you. Oh, you poor boys.... 23 "WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW" SO THEY SAY, ALL I KNOW IS I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO WRITE OR THE RIGHT WAY TO WRITE IT THIS IS BIG, LADY, DON'T SCREW IT UP THIS IS NOT SOME LITTLE VAUDEVILLE I'M REVIEWING POOR LITTLE KIDS VERSUS RICH GREEDY SOUR PUSSES HA! IT'S A CINCH! IT COULD PRACTICALLY WRITE ITSELF AND LET'S PRAY IT DOES, CAUSE AS I MAY HAVE MENTIONED I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT I'M DOING AM I INSANE? THIS IS WHAT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR WELL THAT, PLUS THE SCREAMING OF TEN ANGRY EDITORS “A GIRL?” “THAT’S A GIRL! HOW THE HECK?” “IS THAT EVEN LEGAL?” “LOOK, JUST GO AND GET HER!” NOT ONLY THAT, THERE'S A STORY BEHIND THE STORY THOUSANDS OF CHILDREN, EXPLOITED, INVISIBLE SPEAK UP, TAKE A STAND, AND THERE'S SOMEONE TO WRITE ABOUT IT THAT'S HOW THINGS GET BETTER GIVE LIFE'S LITTLE GUYS SOME INK, AND WHEN IT DRIES JUST WATCH WHAT HAPPENS THOSE KIDS WILL LIVE AND BREATHE RIGHT ON THE PAGE AND ONCE THEY'RE CENTER STAGE, YOU WATCH WHAT HAPPENS AND WHO'S THERE WITH HER CAMERA AND HER PEN AS BOYS TURN INTO MEN THEY'LL STORM THE GATES AND THEN JUST WATCH WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THEY DO! KATHERINE: (reads aloud what she’s written)

“A modern day David is poised to take on the rich and powerful Goliath. With the swagger of one twice his age, armed with nothing more than a few nuggets of truth, Jack Kelly stands ready to face the behemoth Pulitzer.” Now that’s how you turn a boy into a legend! PICTURE A HANDSOME, HEROICALLY CHARISMATIC PLAIN SPOKEN, KNOW NOTHING, SKIRT-CHASING, COCKY LITTLE SON OF A LIE DOWN WITH DOGS AND YOU WAKE UP WITH A RAISE AND A PROMOTION SO, HE'S A FLIRT, A COMPLETE EGO MANIAC THE FACT IS HE'S ALSO THE FACE OF THE STRIKE WHAT A FACE, FACE THE FACTS, THAT'S A FACE THAT COULD SAVE US ALL FROM SINKING IN THE OCEAN LIKE SOMEONE SAID, "POWER TENDS TO CORRUPT" AND ABSOLUTE POWER, WAIT! WAIT, CORRUPTS!? ABSOLUTELY, THAT IS GENIUS! BUT GIVE ME SOME TIME, I'LL BE TWICE AS GOOD AS THAT SIX MONTHS FROM NEVER JUST LOOK AROUND AT THE WORLD WE'RE INHERITING AND THINK OF THE ONE WE'LL CREATE THEIR MISTAKE IS THEY GOT OLD, THAT IS NOT A MISTAKE WE'LL BE MAKING NO SIR, WE'LL STAY YOUNG FOREVER! GIVE THOSE KIDS AND ME THE BRAND NEW CENTURY AND WATCH WHAT HAPPENS IT'S DAVID AND GOLIATH, DO OR DIE THE FIGHT IS ON AND I CAN'T WATCH WHAT HAPPENS 24 BUT ALL I KNOW IS NOTHING HAPPENS IF YOU JUST GIVE IN IT CAN'T BE ANY WORSE THAN HOW IT'S BEEN AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS THAT WE JUST MIGHT WIN SO WHATEVER HAPPENS! LET'S BEGIN! (Blackout.) #9A- Watch What Happens (Playoff) SCENE EIGHT: Newsie Square, Next Morning (JACK and the other NEWSIES nervously begin to assemble. As DAVEY and LES arrive, DAVEY pulls JACK aside.) DAVEY: Is anyone else coming? JACK: Don’t got a clue. RACE: Youse seen Spot Conlon, right? What’d he say? JACK: Sure we seen him. DAVEY: Him and about twenty of his gang. LES: And them Brooklyn boys is big. JACK: And I gotta say, Spot was very impressed. Wasn’t he? DAVEY: I’d say. RACE: So they’re with us? DAVEY: That all depends on how you look at it. If you look and see Brooklyn, then they’re with us. JACK: They wanted proof we’re not gonna fold at the first sign of trouble. FINCH: Are we? JACK: We are not! There’s us and Harlem— MUSH: Not so fast, boss. Harlem wants to know what Brooklyn’s gonna do. JACK: How about Queens? SPECS: Queens will be right here backing us up— JACK: Ya see! SPECS: ... as soon as they get the nod from Brooklyn. RACE: I got the same fish-eye in midtown. (The DELANCEYS walk by on their way to work.) MORRIS: Say, Oscar, looks like we got bum information about a strike happenin’ here today. Not that I’m complainin’. My skull bustin’ arm could use a day of rest. (The DELANCYES move on.) LES: Are we doing the right thing? DAVEY: Sure we are. RACE: Maybe we put this off a couple a days? DAVEY: No. We can’t... (desperately to JACK) Say something. Tell them if we back off now they will never listen to us again. #10- Seize The Day- Davey, Jack, Les, Newsies JACK: (to the NEWSIES) We can’t back down now. No matter who does or doesn’t show. Like it or not, now is when we take a stand. FINCH: How’s about we just don’t show for work? That’ll send a message. 25 JACK: They’ll just replace us. They need us to stand our ground. (turns to DAVEY) C’mon, Davey. Tell ‘em. DAVEY: (on the spot, timidly begins a pep talk) NOW IS THE TIME TO SEIZE THE DAY. STARE DOWN THE ODDS AND SEIZE THE DAY. MINUTE BY MINUTE, THAT'S HOW YOU WIN IT. WE WILL FIND A WAY. BUT LET US SEIZE THE DAY. (CRUTCHIE arrives with a rag painted “STRIKE!” hanging from his crutch.) CRUTCHIE: Hey Jack. Look what I made! Good, huh? Strike! RACE: (To Crutchie) That’s great. (To Davey) That’s pitiful. LES: Don’t be so quick to judge. Maybe Pulitzer will it out his window and feel sorry for us. JACK: (call up to chalkboard platform) Hey Specs, any sign of reinforcements? (thumbs down) Davey…? DAVEY: COURAGE CANNOT ERASE OUR FEAR. COURAGE IS WHEN WE FACE OUR FEAR. TELL THOSE WITH POWER, SAFE IN THEIR TOWER, WE WILL NOT OBEY (DAVEY steps up next to JACK as the scene shifts to the distribution window.) DAVEY & JACK: BEHOLD THE BRAVE BATTALION THAT STANDS SIDE BY SIDE, TOO FEW IN NUMBER AND TOO PROUD TO HIDE. THEN SAY TO THE OTHERS WHO DID NOT FOLLOW THROUGH,

"YOU'RE STILL OUR BROTHERS, AND WE WILL FIGHT FOR YOU." (The circulation bell rings. The NEWSIES ignore it.) DAVEY, RACE, JACK & CRUTCHIE: NOW IS THE TIME TO SEIZE THE DAY. STARE DOWN THE ODDS AND SEIZE THE DAY. (Other NEWSIES gradually join in until all are singing.) NEWSIES: ONCE WE'VE BEGUN, IF WE STAND AS ONE, SOMEDAY BECOMES SOMEHOW, AND THE PRAYER BECOMES A VOW, JACK: AND THE STRIKE STARTS HERE AND NOW! (The circulation bell rings again. WIESEL pushes his window open.) WIESEL: The sun is up and the birds is singin’. A beautiful day to crack some heads, ain’t it? Step right up and get your papes. MORRIS: (stepping forward) You workin’ or trespassin’? What’s your pleasure? (EVERYONE tenses. Three SCABS walk on and head toward the circulation window to collect their papers.) DAVEY: Who are they? JACK: Scabs. What do you think? FINCH: If they think they can just waltz in here and take our jobs – CRUTCHIE: We can handle them! (The NEWSIES move menacingly forward as the SCABS collect their papers from the distribution window.) ROMEO: Let’s soak ‘em boys! FINCH: Yeah! Let’s get ‘em! DAVEY: No! We all stand together or we don’t have a chance! (calling for help) Jack! JACK: All right. I know. I hear ya. (Looks to his NEWSIES, then addresses the SCABS.) Listen, fellas… I know somebody put youse up to this. Probably paid ya some extra money too. Yeah? Well, it ain’t right. Pulitzer thinks we’re gutter rats with no respect for nothin’, includin’ each other. Is that who we are? Well, we stab each other in the back and, yeah, that’s who we are. But if we stand together, we change the whole game. 26 And it ain’t just about us. All across this city there are boys and girls who ought to be out playin’ or going to school. Instead they’re slavin’ to support themselves and their folks. Ain’t no crime to bein’ poor, and not a one of us complains if the work we do is hard. All we ask is a square deal. Fellas… for the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory and slaughterhouse in this town, I beg you… throw down your papers and join the strike. LES: Please? SCAB 1: (The SCABS look at each other, and the first steps forward) I’m with ya. (The first SCAB throws down his papers. The NEWSIES surround the two remaining SCABS.) DAVEY: NOW IS THE TIME TO SEIZE THE DAY! NEWSIES: NOW IS THE TIME TO SEIZE THE DAY! DAVEY: ANSWER THE CALL AND DON'T DELAY! NEWSIES: ANSWER THE CALL AND DON'T DELAY! WRONGS WILL BE RIGHTED IF WE'RE UNITED! LET US SEIZE THE DAY! (The second SCAB throws down his papers and joins the NEWSIES. MORRIS DELANCY reaches for the bundle, but JACK stops him.) SCAB 3: You’re kidding, right? SCAB 2: At the end of the day, who are you gonna trust? (to DELANCEYS) Them… (to NEWSIES) or them? (The second SCAB throws his satchel back at WIESEL as the NEWSIES surround SCAB 3.) JACK: NOW LET 'EM HEAR IT LOUD AND CLEAR! NEWSIES: NOW LET 'EM HEAR IT LOUD AND CLEAR! JACK: LIKE IT OR NOT, WE'RE DRAWING NEAR! NEWSIES: LIKE IT OR NOT, WE'RE DRAWING NEAR! PROUD AND DEFIANT, WE'LL SLAY THE GIANT! JUDGMENT DAY IS HERE! (The third SCAB throws down his papers.) SCAB 3: Oh… who cares? Me father’s gonna kill me anyway! (The NEWSIES cheer.) NEWSIES: HOUSTON TO HARLEM, LOOK WHAT'S BEGUN! ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR ONE! STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE, OH….. STRIKE! (JACK leads the NEWSIES in a triumphant dance. The DELANCEYS break in, punch DAVEY and JACK, and grab LES. The rest of the NEWSIES save LES, chase them off, and celebrate.) NEWSIES: NOW IS THE TIME TO SEIZE THE DAY! THEY'RE GONNA SEE THEY’LL HAVE TO PAY! NOTHING CAN BREAK US NO ONE CAN MAKE US QUIT BEFORE WE'RE DONE! ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR ONE! (KATHERINE arrives with her PHOTOGRAPHER, who shoots a triumphant photo of JACK, DAVEY, LES, and the NEWSIES. The ecstatic NEWSIES toss newspapers all over the square.) #10A- Seize The Day (Tag)- Newsies 27 NEWSIES: NEWSIES FOREVER! SECOND TO NONE! ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR… ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR…

(The gates swing open to reveal WIESEL, the DELANCEYS, and several GOONS. The NEWSIES stop dead in their tracks. – then a fight ensues.) #11- The Fight WIESEL: Time these kids learned a lesson. (The MEN advance.) JACK: Newsies! Get ‘em! (The NEWSIES run to the wagons and toss bundles of papers at the MEN. The MEN surge forward and the fight is more or less even. Suddenly a POLICEMEN appears and blows his whistle. ROMEO runs excitedly to him.) ROMEO: It’s about time you showed up. They’re slaughtering us— (The POLICEMAN smacks ROMEO to the ground. SNYDER appears.) JACK: Cheese it, fellas! It’s the bulls! (As more POLICEMEN arrive, many NEWSIES take flight. Some are hit, others are snatched up and taken away. The NEWSIES are helpless against the MEN. SNYDER appears.) SYNDER: You can’t run forever, Kelly! (JACK sees SNYDER and starts to make his escape.) CRUTCHIE: Jack? Wait for me! (JACK reaches back for CRUTCHIE, but he is grabbed by OSCAR and MORRIS DELANCEY. JACK continues to run.) OSCAR: (to CRUTCHIE) Where ya think you’re goin’? CRUTCHIE: Jack! Help! Romeo! Albert! Finch! MORRIS: Shut it, Crip. (MORRIS punches CRUTCHIE, knocking him to the ground. SNYDER beats him with his crutch and slaps on handcuffs.) SNYDER: It’s off to The Refuge with you, little man. (to the POLICEMAN) Take him away. (JACK watches as the POLICEMAN drags CRUTCHIE off.) JACK: Crutchie! SNYDER: Jack Kelly! (JACK ducks out of the square and runs to the safety of his rooftop.) SCENE NINE: Rooftop (Papers flutter down on the emptying square under a haunting moon. Lost in the wreckage of the failed protest below, JACK paces, desolate.) #12- Santa Fe- Jack JACK: FOLKS, WE FINALLY GOT OUR HEADLINE "NEWSIES CRUSHED AS BULLS ATTACK" CRUTCHIE'S CALLING ME POOR CRIP'S JUST MOVES TOO SLOW GUYS ARE FIGHTIN', BLEEDIN', FALLIN' THANKS TO GOOD OLE' CAPTAIN JACK CAPTAIN JACK JUST WANTS TO CLOSE HIS EYES AND GO! LET ME GO FAR AWAY SOMEWHERE THEY WON'T EVER FIND ME AND TOMORROW WON’T REMIND ME OF TODAY AND THE CITY’S FINALLY SLEEPIN’ AND THE MOON LOOKS OLD AND GREY 28 I GET ON A TRAIN THAT’S BOUND FOR SANTA FE AND I’M GONEAND I’M DONE NO MORE RUNNING. NO MORE LYING NO MORE FAT OLD MAN DENYING ME MY PAY JUST A MOON SO BIG AND YELLOW, IT TURNS NIGHT RIGHT INTO DAY DREAMS COME TRUE. YEAH THEY DO. IN SANTA FE WHERE DOES IT SAY YOU GOTTA LIVE AND DIE HERE? WHERE DOES IT SAY A GUY CAN’T CATCH A BREAK? WHY SHOULD YOU ONLY TAKE WHAT YOU’RE GIVEN? WHY SHOULD YOU SPEND YOUR WHOLE LIFE LIVING TRAPPED WHERE THERE AIN’T NO FUTURE EVEN AT 17! BREAKING YOUR BACK FOR SOMEONE ELSE’S SAKE! IF THE LIFE DON’T SEEM TO SUIT YOU, HOW ABOUT A CHANGE OF SCENE? FAR FROM THE LOUSY HEADLINES, AND THE DEADLINES IN BETWEEN SANTA FE, MY OLD FRIEND I CAN’T SPEND MY WHOLE LIFE DREAMING THOUGH I KNOW THAT’S ALL I SEEM INCLINED TO DO I AIN’T GETTING ANY YOUNGER AND I WANNA START BRAND NEW I NEED SPACE. AND FRESH AIR LET ‘EM LAUGH IN MY FACE. I DON’T CARE SAVE MY PLACE, I’LL BE THERE JUST BE REAL IS ALL I’M ASKING NOT SOME PAINTING IN MY HEAD CAUSE I’M DEAD IF I CAN’T COUNT ON YOU TODAY I GOT NOTHING IF I AIN’T GOT SANTA FE! (End of Act One.) 29 ACT TWO SCENE ONE: Jacobi’s Deli, Next Morning #12A- Entr’acte (DAVEY and the NEWSIES are quietly ignoring their drinks. MS. JACOB enters.) MS. JACOBI: Drink up, boys. And don’t never say I don’t give you nothing. And before you say water is nothing, just ask a fish in the desert. (MS. JACOBI exits.) FINCH: Why do old people talk? RACE: To prove they’re still alive. (KATHERINE arrives with a newspaper.) KATHERINE: Good morning, gentlemen. Would you get a load of these glum mugs? Can these really be the same boys who made front page of the New York Sun? ROMEO: Front page of what? (The NEWSIES rush towards KATHERINE and snatch the paper.) SALAMI: Lemme see! Lemme see! BUDDY: Look at that!? RACE: Would you lookit? Dat’s me! Dat’s me! JO JO: Front page and you ain’t even dead. TOMMY BOY: There I am! (Pointing to the paper) ROMEO: Where’s me? Where’s me? BUTTONS: Wait till my old man gets a load of dis. I won’t be last in line for the tub tonight.

DAVEY: (to KATHERINE) You got us the pape? KATHERINE: You got yourself in the pape. MUSH: “Newsies Stop the World”- now, there’s a headline even Elmer could sell! ELMER: Hey! SPECS: What else do you got? KATHERINE: Mine’s the only story that ran. Pulitzer declared a blackout on strike news, so even I’m shut down now. I heard they arrested Crutchie. Did they get Jack too? ALBERT: The Delanceys are spreading a story that he took it on the lam, first sight of the cops. LES: (charges ALBERT) Jack don’t run from no fight! ALBERT: Take it down, short-stop. I’m just reportin’ the news. CRISS-CROSS: Where’d he go? SPLASHER: I checked the usual places. No luck. CURLY: Wonder where he ended up? RACE: For jumpin’ Jack’s sake. Can you stow the seriosity long enough to drink in the moment? I’m famous! HENRY: What of it? RACE: Are you stupid or what? You’re famous, the world is your erster? HENRY: Your what? RACE: Your erster! Your erster! Your fancy clam with a pearl inside. HENRY: How much does bein’ famous pay? RACE: Ya don’t need money when you’re famous. They gives ya whatever ya want gratis! HENRY: Such as...? 30 #13- King of New York- Davey, Katherine, Les, Newsies RACE: A PAIR OF NEW SHOES WITH MATCHIN' LACES... ROMEO: A PERMANENT BOX AT THE SHEEPSHEAD RACES... HENRY: PASTRAMI ON RYE WITH A SOUR PICKLE... FINCH: MY PERSONAL PUSS ON A WOODEN NICKLE.. RACE: LOOK AT ME: I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK! SUDDENLY I'M RESPECTABLE, STARING RIGHT AT' CHA, LOUSY WITH STA'CHA. ALBERT: NOBBIN' WITH ALL THE MUCKETY- MUCKS, I'M BLOWING MY DOUGH AND GOIN' DELUXE. RACE: AND THERE I BE! AIN'T I PRETTY? RACE & HENRY: IT'S MY CITY. I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK! JO JO: A SOLID GOLD WATCH WITH A CHAIN TO TWIRL IT... LES: MY VERY OWN BED AND A INDOOR TERLET... MUSH: A BARBERSHOP HAIRCUT THAT COSTS A QUARTER... DAVEY: (indicating KATHERINE) A REGULAR BEAT FOR THE STAR REPORTER! RACE: AM-SCRAY, PUNK, SHE'S THE KING OF NEW YORK! KATHERINE: WHO'D'A THUNK! I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK! NEWSIES: WE WAS SUNK, PALE AND PITIFUL, KATHERINE: BUNCH OF WET NOODLES, KATHERINE & NEWSIES: PULITZER'S POODLES. LES: ALMOST ABOUT TO DROWN IN THE DRINK, BUTTONS: WHEN SHE FISHED US OUT RACE: AND DROWNED US IN INK! KATHERINE: SO LET'S GET DRUNK! NEWSIES: YEAH! KATHERINE: NOT WITH LIQUOR. FAME WORKS QUICKER WHEN YOUR KING OF NEW YORK. NEWSIES: I GOTTA BE EITHER DEAD OR DREAMIN', ' CAUSE LOOK AT THAT PAPE WITH MY FACE BEAMIN'. TOMORROW THEY MAY WRAP FISHES IN IT, BUT I WAS A STAR FOR ONE WHOLE MINUTE! (The NEWSIES and KATHERINE dance in the deli.) KATHERINE AND NEWSIES: LOOK AT ME! I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK! WAIT AND SEE: THIS GONNA MAKE BOTH DELANCEYS PEE IN THEIR PANT-SIES. FLASHPOTS ARE SHOOTIN' BRIGHT AS THE SUN! I'M ONE HIHFALLUTIN' SON-OF-A-GUN! I GUARANTEE: THOUGH I CRAPPED OUT, I AIN'T TAPPED OUT! I'M THE KING OF NEW- 31 FRIENDS MAY FLEE. LET 'EM DITCH 'YA! SNAP ONE PIT'CHA, YOU'RE THE KING OF NEWHISTORY! FRONT PAGE STORY, GUTS AND GLORY, I'M THE KING… OF NEW YORK! #13A- King of New York (Tag) SCENE TWO: The Refuge #14- Letter From The Refuge- Crutchie (In an empty corner, CRUTCHIE is sitting on a bed holding a pencil and paper. A lighted candle sits nearby. Other REFUGE KIDS are sleeping on the floor around him. He reads what he’s written.) CRUTCHIE: “ Dear Jack. Greetings from The Refuge! HOW ARE YOU? I'M OKAY GUESS I WASN'T MUCH HELP YESTERDAY SNYDER SOAKED ME REAL GOOD WITH MY CRUTCH (writes) OH YEAH, JACK? THIS IS CRUTCHIE BY THE WAY (back to reading) THESE HERE GUARDS, THEY IS RUDE THEY SAY "JUMP BOY, YOU JUMP OR YOU'RE SCREWED!" BUT THE FOOD AIN'T SO BAD LEAST SO FAR, 'CAUSE SO FAR, THEY AIN'T BRUNG US NO FOOD! HA, HA I MISS THE ROOFTOP (stops reading, daydreams) SLEEPING RIGHT OUT IN THE OPEN IN YOUR PENTHOUSE IN THE SKY THERE'S A COOL BREEZE BLOWIN' EVEN IN JULY (stops daydreaming, continues reading) ANY WAY, SO GUESS WHAT! THERE'S THIS SECRET ESCAPE PLAN I'VE GOT! TIE A SHEET TO BED, TOSS THE END OUT THE WINDOW CLIMB DOWN AND TAKE OFF LIKE A SHOT! MAYBE THOUGH, NOT TONIGHT I AIN'T SLEPT, AND MY LEG STILL AIN'T RIGHT!

BUT HEY, PULITZER! HE'S GOIN' DOWN! THEN JACK, I WAS THINKING WE MIGHT JUST GO, LIKE YOU WAS SAYIN' (daydreaming again) WHERE IT'S CLEAN AND GREEN AND PRETTY WITH NO BUILDINGS IN YOUR WAY AND YOUR RIDING PALOMINOS, EVERY DAY! ONCE THAT TRAIN MAKES (A KID on the bed kicks CRUTCHIE.) REFUGE KID REGGIE: Shut it crip. CRUTCHIE: Sorry. Ugh. This place (back to reading) I'LL BE FINE. GOOD AS NEW BUT THERE'S ONE THING I NEED YA TO DO 32 ON THE ROOFTOP YOU SAID THAT A FAM'LY LOOKS OUT FOR EACH OTHER SO TELL ALL THE FELLAS FROM ME, TO PROTECT ONE ANOTHER! (pauses, writes) THE END. YOUR FRIEND... (thinks, writes) YOUR BEST FRIEND... (hesitates, then crosses it out, writes) YOUR BROTHER...CRUTCHIE.” SNYDER: (offstage) You in there- pipe down! (CRUTCHIE blows out the candle.). #14A- Letter From the Refuge (Playoff) SCENE THREE: Medda’s Theater (JACK paints a backdrop of the Taos Mountains. It’s almost finished. MEDDA enters in a dressing robe.) MEDDA: Here’s everything I owe you for the first backdrop, plus this one, and even a little something extra just account’a because I’m gonna miss you so. (MEDDA hands JACK an envelope full of money.) JACK: Miss Medda. MEDDA: Jack. JACK: You’re a gem. MEDDA: Just tell me you’re going somewhere and not running away. JACK: Does it matter? MEDDA: When you go somewhere and it turns out not to be the right place, you can always go somewhere else. But you’re running away, nowhere’s ever the right place. (DAVEY finds his way in through the stage flies, excited to see JACK.) DAVEY: How ‘bout lettin’ a pal know you’re alive? MEDDA: I’ll leave you with your friend. (MEDDA exits.) DAVEY: Where’d you go? We couldn’t find you. JACK: Ever think I didn’t wanna be found? DAVEY: (indicating the backdrop) Is that a real place? That Santa Fe? (suddenly remembering, holds out the newspaper) Hey! You see the pape? We’re front page news, above the fold. Oh, yes. Above the fold. JACK: Good for you. DAVEY: Everyone wants to meet the famous Jack Kelly. Even Spot Conlon sent a kid just to say: next even you can count on Brooklyn. How about that? JACK: We got stomped into the ground. DAVEY: They got us this time. I’ll grant you that. But we took round one. And with the press like this our fight is far from over. JACK: Every Newsie who could walk showed up this morning to sell papes like the strike never happened. DAVEY: And I was there with them. If I don’t sell papes, my folks don’t eat. JACK: Save your breath. I get it. It’s hopeless. DAVEY: But then I saw this look on Weasel’s face; he was actually nervous. And I realized this isn’t over. We got them worried. Really worried. And I walked away. Lots of other kids did, too. And that is what you call a beginning. (LES enters, calling to KATHERINE behind him.) LES: There he is, just like I said. JACK: For cryin’ out loud... where’s a fella gotta go to get away from you people? DAVEY: There’s no escapin’ us, pal. We’re inevitable. 33 LES: (to DAVEY) So, what’s the story? Can we have the theater? DAVEY: Pipe down. I didn’t ask yet. LES: What’s the hold up? I need to let my girl know we’ve got a date. DAVEY: Your girl? LES: You heard me. I’ve been swattin’ skirts away all morning. Fame is one intoxicatin’ potion. And this girl, Sally, she’s a plum. JACK: (sees KATHERINE) Word is you wrote a great story. KATHERINE: (tentatively approaches JACK) You look terrible. LES: (studying the painting) Hey, Jack. Where’s that supposed to be? JACK: It’s Santa Fe. KATHERINE: I’ve got to tell you, Jack, this “Go west, young man” routine is getting tired. Evan Horace Greeley moved back to New York. LES: Yes, he did. And then he died. JACK: Ain’t reporters supposed to be non-partisan? KATHERINE: Ask a reporter. Pulitzer’s had me blacklisted from every news desk in town— LES: Can we table the palaver and get back to business? Will Medda let us have the theater? DAVEY: (to JACK) it’s what I been trying to tell you: we want to hold a rally – a citywide meeting where every Newsie gets a say and a vote. And we do it after working hours so no one loses a day’s pay. Smart?

JACK: Smart enough to get you committed to a padded room. KATHERINE: The guy who paints places he’s never seen is calling us crazy? JACK: Want to see a place I seen? How about this? #14B- Jack’s Painting (JACK turns the backdrop around and reveals a large, passionately executed political cartoon of the Newsies being crushed by Pulitzer in Newsie Square. DAVEY, LES, and KATHERINE stare in awe.) JACK: Newsie Square, thanks to my big mouth, filled to overflowing with failure. Kids hurt, others arrested— DAVEY: Lighten up. No one died. JACK: Is that what you’re aiming for? Go on and call me a quitter, call me a coward. No way I’m puttin’ them kids back in danger. DAVEY: We’re doing something that has never been done before. How could that not be dangerous? JACK: Specs brung me a note from Crutchie at The Refuge. I tried to see him. Climbed down the fire escape. But they busted him up so bad he couldn’t even come to the window. What if he don’t make it? You willing to shoulder that for a tenth of a penny a pape? DAVEY: It’s not about pennies. You said it yourself: my family wouldn’t be in the mess we’re in now if my father had a union. This is a fight we have to win. JACK: If I wanted a sermon, I’d show up for church. #15- Watch What Happens (Reprise)- Davey, Jack, Katherine, Les DAVEY: Tell me how quitting does Crutchie does any good? (JACK doesn’t answer him.) Exactly. So... HERE'S HOW IT GOES, ONCE WE WIN AND WE "WILL" BE WINNING, MAKE NO MISTAKE JACK: WE'LL BE WHAT? DAVEY: WE'RE ALREADY WINNING 34 JACK: RIGHT DAVEY: AND WE'LL TELL THEM STRAIGHT OUT THEY LET CRUTCHIE GO OR THEY KEEP GETTING POUNDED JACK: DAVE, WHAT THE HECK? DID THEY BUST UP YOUR BRAINS OR SOMETHIN'? AS I RECALL, DAVE WE ALL GOT OUR BUTTS KICKED, THEY WON. DAVEY: WON THE BATTLE. JACK: OH COME ON DAVEY: JACKIE, THINK ABOUT IT, WE GOT THEM SURRONDED JACK: HERE'S WHAT I THINK, JOE'S A JERK! HE'S A RATTLE SNAKE DAVEY: YOU'RE RIGHT! AND YOU KNOW WHY A SNAKE STARTS TO RATTLE? JACK: NO WHY? DAVEY: ‘CAUSE HE'S SCARED. JACK: SURE. DAVEY: GO AND LOOK IT UP. THE POOR GUY'S HEAD IS SPINNING. WHY WOULD HE SEND FOR THE GOONS, AN ENTIRE ARMY? DOZENS OF GOONS AND COPS, ANDJACK: YOU KNOW YOU MAY BE RIGHT DAVEY: THANK YOU, GOD! JACK: IF HE WASN'T AFRAID - DAVEY: EXACTLY! JACK & DAVEY: HE KNOWS WE'RE WINNING JACK, DAVEY, KATHERINE, AND LES: GET THOSE KIDS TO SEE WE'RE CIRCLING VICTORY AND WATCH WHAT HAPPENS WE'RE DOING SOMETHING NO ONE'S EVEN TRIED AND YES, WE'RE TERRIFIED BUT WATCH WHAT HAPPENS JACK: YOU CAN'T UNDO THE PAST DAVEY: SO JUST MOVE ON DAVEY & KATHERINE: AND STAY ON TRACK LES: STAY ON TRACK JACK, DAVEY, KATHERINE, AND LES: ‘CAUSE HUMPTY DUMPTY IS ABOUT TO CRACK KATHERINE: WE'VE GOT FAITH! DAVEY: WE'VE GOT THE PLAN! LES: AND WE'VE GOT JACK! JACK, DAVEY, KATHERINE, AND LES: SO JUST WATCH WHAT HAPPENS... WE'RE BACK! LES: And I've got a date! #15A- Back to Pulitzer’s Office 35 SCENE FOUR: Pulitzer’s Office & Cellar, Afternoon (The MAYOR, SEITZ, BUNSEN, and PULITZER are in a heated discussion. KATHERINE sits, listening quietly.) MAYOR: ...but I’ve read your editorials, Mr. Pulitzer. How can you express so much sympathy for the trolley workers and yet have none for the Newsies? PULITZER: Because the trolley workers are striking for a fair contract. The Newsies are striking against me! MAYOR: I’d spare you the embarrassment if I could, but Miss Medda’s Theater is private property. BUNSEN: He can’t order a raid without legal cause. PULITZER: Mr. Mayor, would the fact that this rally is organized by an escaped convict be enough to shut it down? MAYOR: An escaped convict? PULITZER: A fugitive from one of your own institutions. A convicted thief, at large, reeking mischief on our law-abiding community. (turns his desk chair around to reveal SNYDER and holds out the newspaper.) Mr. Snyder, which one is he? SNYDER: (pointing to the photo) That one there: Jack Kelly. MAYOR: And how do you know this boy? SNYDER: His is not a pleasant story. He was the first sentenced to my Refuge for loitering and vagrancy,

but his total disregard for authority has made him a frequent visitor. MAYOR: You called him a thief and escaped convict. SNYDER: After his release I caught him myself, red-handed, trafficking stolen food and clothing. He was last sentenced to six months, but the willful ruffian escaped. PULITZER: So you’d be doing the city a service removing this criminal from our streets. MAYOR: If that’s the case, we can take him in quietly and— PULITZER: (exploding) What good would quiet do me??? I want a public example made of him!!! (HANNAH rushes into the office.) HANNAH: Mr. Pulitzer- the boy, Jack Kelly, is here. PULITZER: Here? HANNAH: Just outside. He’s asked to see you. PULITZER: Ask and ye shall be received. Mr. Snyder, if you please. Sit. (PULITZER directs SNYDER to retreat to the shadowy corner and spins KATHERINE in the swivel chair so she’s hidden as well. HANNAH escorts JACK into the room.) HANNAH: Mr. Jack Kelly. JACK: Afternoon, boys... PULITZER: And which Jack Kelly is this? The charismatic union organizer, or the petty thief and escaped convict? JACK: Which one gives us more in common? PULITZER: Impudence is in bad taste when crawling for mercy. JACK: Crawlin’? That’s a laugh, I just dropped by with an invite. Seems a few hundred of your employees are rallying to discuss recent disagreements. I thought it only fair to invite you to state your case straight to the fellas. So what’d’ya say, Joe? Want I should save you a spot on the bill? PULITZER: You are as shameless and disrespectful a creature as I was told. Do you know what I was doing when I was your age, boy? I was fighting in a war. JACK: Yeah? How’d that turn out for ya? PULITZER: It taught me a lesson that shaped my life. You don’t win a war on the battlefield. It’s the 36 headline that crowns the victor. JACK: I’ll keep that in mind when New York wakes up to front-page photos of our rally. PULITZER: Rally till the cows come home. Not a paper in town will publish a word. And if it’s not in the papers, it never happened. JACK: You may run this city, but there are some of us who can’t be bullied. Even some reporters... PULITZER: Such as that young woman who made you yesterday’s news? Talented girl. And beautiful as well, don’t you think? JACK: I’ll tell her you said so. PULITZER: No need. She can hear for herself. Can’t you, darling? Katherine stands up. JACK steps back in surprise.) I trust you know my daughter, Katherine. (lets that sink in) Yes. My daughter. You are probably asking, why the nom de plume and why doesn’t my daughter work for me? Good questions. I offered Katherine a life of wealth and leisure. Instead she chose to pursue a career. And she was showing real promise, until this recent lapse. But you’re done with all of that now, are you, sweetheart? KATHERINE: Jack, I— PULITZER: Don’t trouble the boy with your problems, dearest. Mr. Kelly has a plateful of his own. Wouldn’t you say so, Mr. Snyder? (SNYDER steps into sight.) SNYDER: Hello, Jack. (JACK tries to run for the door, but is stopped by the DELANCYES. He realizes he’s trapped.) PULITZER: Ow! Does anyone else feel a noose tightening? But allow me to offer an alternate scenario: you attend the rally and speak against this hopeless strike, and I’ll see your criminal record expunged and your pockets filled with enough cash to carry you, in a first-class train compartment, from New York to New Mexico and beyond. (to KATHERINE) You did say he wanted to travel west, didn’t you? JACK: There ain’t a person in this room who don’t know you stink. PULITZER: And if they know me, they know I don’t care. Mark my words, boy. Defy me, and I will have you and every one of your friends locked up in The Refuge. I know you’re Mr. Tough Guy, but it’s not right to condemn that little crippled boy to conditions like that. And what about your pal Davey and his baby brother, ripped from their loving family and tossed to the rats? Will they ever be able to thank you enough? #16- The Bottom Line (Reprise)- Pulitzer, Seitz, Bunsen PULITZER: TIME’S RUNNING OUT, KID SO WHAT DO YOU SAY?

COWBOY OR CONVICT, I WIN EITHER WAY! YOUR ABJECT SURRENDER WAS ALWAYS THE BOTTOM LINE! PULITZER: Gentlemen, escort our guest to the cellar so he might reflect in solitude. (The DELANCEYS lead JACK out of the office and into the cellar.) TOO BAD YOU’VE NO JOB, JACK, BUT YOU DID RESIGN TOO BAD YOU’VE NO FAMILY, BUT YOU CAN’T HAVE MINE BE GLAD YOU’RE ALIVE, BOY- I’D SAY THAT’S THE BOTTOM LINE SEITZ: LIKE THE PIED PIPER YOU KNEW WHAT TO PLAY PULITZER: TILL THOSE KIDS ALL BELIEVED YOU WERE RIGHT BUNSEN: LUCKY FOR THEM ALL BUT ONE GOT AWAY PULITZER: THEY MAY NOT BE SO LUCKY TONIGHT The DELANCEYS deposit JACK in a dark space populated with nothing but a printing press.) MORRIS: We been given discretion to handle you as we see fit, so behave. 37 OSCAR: But, just in case, I been polishin’ my favorite brass knuckles. (Morris pulls the dust-covered tarp off of the old press and tosses it to JACK.) MORRIS: You can sleep right here on this old printing press. (slaps the hard surface) Now that there is firm. (OSCAR and MORRIS exit as JACK hopelessly takes in his surroundings. Suddenly, a familiar drumbeat sounds in military style. Voices are heard offstage.) #17- Brooklyn’s Here- Spot, Newsies SPOT: Come on Brooklyn! BROOKLYN NEWSIES: Newsies need our help today! (Newsies need our help today) Tell 'em Brooklyn's on their way! (Tell ‘em Brooklyn’s on their way!) We're from... (Brooklyn!) We are... (Newsies!) We are… (Brooklyn) Newsies! (The scene shifts to the Brooklyn Bridge as a cavalry of BROOKLYN NEWSIES make their way to the rally.) SCENE FIVE: Brooklyn Bridge & Medda’s Theater, Evening BROOKLYN NEWSIES: JUST GOT WORD THAT OUR BUDDIES IS HURTIN', FACIN' TOTAL DISASTER FOR CERTAIN. THAT'S OUR CUE, BOYS: IT'S TIME TO GO SLUMMIN'. HEY MANHATTAN, THE CAVALRY'S COMIN'! BROOKLYN NEWSIES GROUP 1: HAVE NO FEAR! BROOKLYN NEWSIES GROUP 2: YOU KNOW WE GOT YOUR BACK FROM WAY BACK! BROOKLYN NEWSIES GROUP 1: BROOKLYN'S HERE! BROOKLYN NEWSIES GROUP 2: WE'LL GET YOU PAY BACK WITH SOME PAYBACK! BROOKLYN NEWSIES: WE'RE THE BOYS FROM THE BEACHES OF BRIGHTON, PROSPECT PARK AND THE NAVY YARD PIER. STRIKES AIN'T FUN, BUT THEY SURE IS EXCITIN'. LOUD AND CLEAR! BROOKLYN'S HERE! SPOT: BOROUGH WHAT GAVE ME BIRTH, BROOKLYN NEWSIES: FRIENDLIEST PLACE ON EARTH. PAY US A VISIT AND SEE WHAT WE MEAN, AND WHEN YA DO, (WHEN YA DO, WHEN YA DO) WE'LL KICK YA HALFWAY TO QUEENS! (The BROOKLYN NEWSIES arrive at Medda’s Theater. With JACK’s political cartoon of Newsie Square as the backdrop, the theater begins to fill with NEWSIES from all five boroughs, singing and waving banners and placards.) BROOKLYN NEWSIES: NOW THEM SOAKERS IS IN FOR A SOAKIN'. WHAT A SAD WAY TO END A CAREER. THEY'S A JOKE, BUT IF THEY THINKS WE'RE JOKIN'. LOUD AND CLEAR! MANHATTAN NEWSIES: MANHATTAN'S HERE! FLUSHING NEWSIES: FLUSHING'S HERE! RICHMOND NEWSIES: RICHMOND'S HERE! WOODSIDE NEWSIES: WOODSIDE'S HERE! BRONX NEWSIE: SO'S DA BRONX! BROOKLYN NEWSIES: BROOKLYN'S HERE! ALL NEWSIES: LOUD AND CLEAR: WE IS HERE!! 38 (The NEWSIES go crazy. LES is seated with SALLY. SPOT shakes hands with DAVEY in the center of the stage as MEDDA steps forward.) MEDDA: Welcome, Newsies of New York City. Welcome to my theater and your revolution! (CROWD cheers.) DAVEY: Let’s here it for Spot Conlon and Brooklyn! SPOT: Newsies united! Let’s see what Pulitzer has to say to you now. SALLY: Hey Les, where’s Jack? FINCH: Yeah Davey, where is Jack? NEWSIES: Yeah. We want Jack! Where is he? (DAVEY looks to MEDDA for help.) MEDDA: Sorry, kid. No sign of him yet. Looks like you’re doing a solo. NEWSIES: JACK! JACK! JACK! JACK! (DAVEY timidly takes the stage.) DAVEY: Newsies of New York... look at what we’ve done! We’ve got Newsies from every pape and every neighborhood here tonight. Tonight you’re making history. (NEWSIES cheer.) Tonight we declare that we’re just as much a part of the newspaper as any reporter or editor. (The cheers grow louder.) We’re done being treated like kids. From now on they will treat us as equals. (JACK appears from the back of the theater and starts down the aisle.)

JACK: You wanna be talked to like an adult? Then start actin’ like one. Don’t just run your mouth. Make some sense. DAVEY: And here’s Jack! NEWSIES: Jack! Jack! Jack! (JACK climbs up onto the stage as DAVEY heaves a sigh of relief. KATHERINE has arrived and stands in the balcony.) JACK: (quieting the NEWSIES) All right. Pulitzer raised the price of papes without so much as a word to us. That was a lousy thing to do. (The NEWSIES cheer.) So we got made and let ‘em know we ain’t gonna be pushed around. (More cheers.) So we go on strike. Then what happens? Pulitzer lowers the price so’s we’ll go back to work! And a few weeks later he hikes the price back up again, and don’t think he won’t. so what do we do then? And what do we do if he decides to raise his price again after that? (Davey and the NEWSIES look to each other, confused by what JACK is saying.) Fellas, we gotta be realistic. We don’t work, we don’t get paid. How many days can you go without makin’ money? However long, believe me, Pulitzer can go longer. (The NEWSIES boo.) But I have spoken to Mr. Pulitzer and he has given me his word: if we disband the union, he will not raise prices again for two years. He will even put it in writing. (The boos are now drowning out JACK.) I say we take the deal. Go back to work knowing that our price is secure. All we need to do is vote “NO” on the strike. Vote “NO”! (The boos overwhelm JACK. He walks toward the wings, where BUNSEN is waiting with a wad of cash. He holds out the money out and JACK pockets it, looking around guiltily. LES reaches out, but JACK muscles him away and rushes out. The NEWSIES are furious, and their booing echoes across the theater, and the city, as the scene transitions...) SCENE SIX: Rooftop, Night #17A- To The Rooftop (KATHERINE has discovered JACK’s drawings stuffed in an air vent pipe and opens them up. JACK arrives.) KATHERINE: That was some speech you made. JACK: How’d you get here? 39 KATHERINE: Specs showed me. JACK: (snatches his drawings) He say you could go through my stuff? KATHERINE: I saw them rolled up, sticking out of there. I didn’t know what they were. These drawings...? These are drawings of The refuge, aren’t they? (takes the drawings back and studies them closer) is this really what it’s like in there: three boys to a bed, rats everywhere, and vermin? JACK: A little different from where you were raised? KATHERINE: Snyder told my father you were arrested stealing food and clothing. This is why, isn’t it? You stole to feed those boys. (JACK, embarrassed, turns away.) I don’t understand. If you were willing to go to jail for those boys, how could you turn your back on them now? JACK: I don’t think you’re anyone to talk about turning on folks. KATHERINE: I never turned on you or anyone else. JACK: No. You just double crossed us to your father. Your father! KATHERINE: My father has eyes on every corner of this city. He doesn’t need me spying for him. And I never lied I didn’t tell you everything... JACK: If you weren’t a girl you’d be trying to talk with a fist in your mouth. KATHERINE: I said that I worked for the Sun, and I did. I told you my professional name was Plumber, and it is. You never asked my real one. JACK: I wouldn’t think I had to unless I knew I was dealing with a backstabber. KATHERINE: And if I was a boy, you’d be looking at me through one swollen eye. JACK: Don’t let that stop ya. Gimme your best shot. (JACK presents his face to her. KATHERINE, out of nowhere, grabs JACK and kisses him full on the lips. They part. A moment of silence and then JACK tries to get another kiss, but is blocked.) KATHERINE: I need to know you didn’t cave for the money. JACK: I spoke the truth. You win a fight when you got the other fella down eatin’ pavement. You heard your father. No matter how many days we strike, he ain’t givin’ up. I don’t now what else we can do. KATHERINE: Ah. But I do. JACK: Oh, come one... KATHERINE: Really, Jack? Really? Only you can have a good idea? Or is it because I’m a girl? JACK: I didn’t say nothin’...

KATHERINE: This would be a good time to shut up. Being boss doesn’t mean you have all the answers. Just the brains to recognize the right one when you hear it. JACK: I’m listening. KATHERINE: Good for you. The strike was your idea. The rally was Davey’s. and now my plan will take us to the finish line. Deal with it. (KATHERINE takes a piece of paper from her pocket and hands it to him.) JACK: (reading) “The Children’s Crusade”? KATHERINE: (snatches it back and reads) “For the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory, and slaughter house in New York. I beg you...join us.” With those words the strike stopped being just about the Newsies. You challenged our whole generation to stand up and demand a place at the table. JACK: “The Children’s Crusade”??? KATHERINE: Think, Jack, if we publish this- my words with one of your drawings- and if every worker under twenty-one read it and stayed home from work... or better yet, came to Newsie Square- a general city-wide strike! Even my father couldn’t ignore that. JACK: Only one small problem: we got no way to print it. KATHERINE: Come on, there has to be one printing press he doesn’t control. 40 JACK: (suddenly remembering) Oh no. KATHERINE: What? JACK: I know where there’s a printing press that no one would ever think we’d use. KATHERINE: Then why are we still standing here? (KATHERINE starts climbing down the fire escape ladder, but JACK stops her.) JACK: Wait. Stop. What’s this about for you? I don’t mean “The Children’s Crusade.” (indicating the two of them) What’s this about? Am I kiddin’ myself or is there something... KATHERINE: Of course there is. JACK: Well don’t say it like this happens every day! KATHERINE: Oh, Jack... JACK: I’m not an idiot. I know girls like you don’t wind up with guys like me. And I don’t want you promisin’ nothin’ you gotta take back later. But standing here tonight... lookin’ at you... I’m scared tomorrrow’s gonna come and change everything. #18- Something To Believe In- Katherine, Jack JACK: If there was a way I could grab hold of something to make time stop. Just so’s I could keep looking at you. KATHERINE: You snuck up on me, Jack Kelly. I never even saw it coming. JACK: For sure? KATHERINE: For sure. TIL THE MOMENT I FOUND YOU, I THOUGHT I KNEW WHAT LOVE WAS. NOW I'M LEARNING WHAT IS TRUE, THAT LOVE WILL DO WHAT IT DOES. THE WORLD FINDS WAYS TO STING YOU AND THEN ONE DAY, DECIDES TO BRING YOU SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN FOR EVEN A NIGHT. ONE NIGHT MAY BE FOREVER, BUT THAT'S ALRIGHT, THAT'S ALRIGHT. AND IF YOU'RE GONE TOMORROW, WHAT WAS OURS STILL WILL BE. I HAVE SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN, NOW THAT I KNOW YOU BELIEVED IN ME. JACK: WE WAS NEVER MEANT TO MEET, AND THEN WE MEET, WHO KNOWS WHY. ONE MORE STRANGER ON THE STREET. JUST SOMEONE SWEET PASSIN' BY. AN ANGEL COME TO SAVE ME, WHO DIDN'T EVEN KNOW SHE GAVE ME SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN FOR EVEN A DAY. ONE DAY MAY BE FOREVER, BUT THAT'S OKAY, THAT'S OKAY. AND IF I'M GONE TOMORROW, WHAT WAS OURS STILL WILL BE. 41 I HAVE SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN, NOW THAT I KNOW YOU BELIEVED IN ME. JACK AND KATHERINE: DO YOU KNOW WHAT I BELIEVE IN? LOOK INTO MY EYES AND SEE. (JACK and KATHERINE kiss until JACK pulls away.) JACK: If things were different... KATHERINE: What, if you weren't going to Santa Fe? JACK: And if you weren't an heiress. And if your father wasn't after my head. KATHERINE: (teasing) You're not really scared of my father. JACK: No, but I am pretty scared of you. KATHERINE: Don't be. JACK: AND IF I'M GONE TOMORROW... KATHERINE: WHAT WAS OURS STILL WILL BE. JACK AND KATHERINE: I HAVE SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN, NOW THAT I KNOW YOU BELIEVED IN ME. JACK: I HAVE SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN, JACK AND KATHERINE: NOW THAT I KNOW YOU BELIEVED IN ME. (Lights fade as a drumbeat is heard.) SCENE SEVEN: Pulitzer’s Cellar #19- Seize The Day (Reprise)- Newsies (In the semi-darkness, the NEWSIES cross the stage, lanterns in hand, spreading the news to NY CITIZENS in conspiratorial whispers.) NEWSIES: NOW IS THE TIME TO SEIZE THE DAY STARE DOWN THE ODDS AND SEIZE THE DAY

MINUTE BY MINUTE, THAT’S HOW YOU WIN IT. WE WILL FIND A WAY, BUT LET US SEIZE THE DAY. (JACK and KATHERINE enter the cellar. She hands him a ring of keys.) KATHERINE: I’ll get the lights. You get those windows unlocked. JACK: (goes to work undoing the window) You got enough keys here for the entire building. Has someone been picking daddy’s pockets? KATHERINE: The janitor’s been working here since he was eight year sold and hasn’t had a raise in twenty years. He’s with us one-hundred percent. (KATHERINE turns up the lights and uncovers the printing press. DAVEY, RACE, and a few other NEWSIES pour through the window. Two well-dressed kids, BILL and DARCY, go straight to work on the printing press.) JACK: (to DAVEY) You bring enough fellas to keep us covered? DAVEY: We could hold a hoe-down in here and no one would be the wiser. JACK: Good job. DAVEY: It’s good to have you back again. JACK: (apologizing, appreciatively, in his own way) Shut up. KATHERINE: Here she is, boys. Just think, while my father snores blissfully in his bed, we will be using his 42 very own press to bring him down. JACK: Remind me to stay on your good side. (RACE goes to the printing press) RACE: Is this what they print the papes on? DARCY: I can see why they tossed this old girl down to the cellar, but I think she will do the job. KATHERINE: Jack, this is Darcy. He knows just about everything there is to know about printing. JACK: You work for one of the papes? DARCY: My father owns the Trib. JACK: Whoa! KATHERINE: And this is Bill. He’ll be typesetting the article for us. JACK: (being funny) Bill? So I suppose you’re the son of William Randolph Hearst? BILL: And proud to be part of your revolution! JACK: (in awe) Ain’t that somethin’? KATHERINE: In the words of the little one, “Can we table the palaver and get down to business?” DARCY: A little grease and she’ll be good as gold. BILL: Great! Let’s get to work. #20- Once And For All- Jack, Davey, Katherine, Newsies DAVEY: All right. Here’s how it’ll work: as we print the papes, Race, you’ll let the fellas in and they’ll spread them to every workin’ kid in New York. After that…? (RACE takes his position at the window.) JACK: After that it’s up to them. THERE'S CHANGE COMIN' ONCE AND FOR ALL. YOU MAKES THE FRONT PAGE, AND MAN, YOU IS MAJOR NEWS. JACK & DAVEY: TOMORROW THEY'LL SEE WHAT WE ARE, JACK, DAVEY & KATHERINE: AND SURE AS STAR, WE AIN'T COME THIS FAR….TO LOSE! RACE: Here they come! (More NEWSIES take up their positions.) NEWSIES: THIS IS THE STORY WE NEEDED TO WRITE THAT’S BEEN KEPT OUT OF SIGHT, BUT NO MORE! IN A FEW HOURS, BY DAWN'S EARLY LIGHT WE'LL BE READY TO FIGHT US A WAR. THIS TIME WE'RE IN IT TO STAY. TALK ABOUT SEIZING THE DAY! JACK: WRITE IT IN INK OR IN BLOOD, IT'S THE SAME EITHER WAY: THEY'RE GONNA HAVE TO PAY! NEWSIES: SEE OL'MAN PULITZER SNUG IN HIS BED, HE DON'T CARE IF WE'RE DEAD OR ALIVE. THREE SATIN PILLOWS ARE UNDER HIS HEAD WHILE WE'RE BEGGIN' FOR BREAD TO SURVIVE. JOE, YOU CAN STOP COUNTIN' SHEEP. WE'RE GONNA SING YA TO SLEEP. THEN WHILE YA SNOOZE, WE’LL BE LIGHTIN’ A FUSE WITH A PROMISE WE’SE ACHIN’ TO KEEP. (BILL typesets the Newsies Banner.) JACK: ONCE AND FOR ALL, IF THEY DON'T MIND THEIR MANNERS WE'LL BLEED 'EM! NEWSIES: BLEED 'EM! 43 RACE: ONCE AND FOR ALL WE WON'T CARRY NO BANNERS THAT DON'T SPELL NEWSIES: “FREEDOM!" FIN'LLY WE'SE RAISIN' THE STAKES, THIS TIME WHATEVER IT TAKES, THIS TIME THE UNION AWAKES, ONCE AND FOR ALL! (DARCY pulls the first proof from the press and hands it to RACE. He passes it across the NEWSIES to KATHERINE.) KATHERINE: (reading) “In the words of union leader Jack Kelly, ‘We will work with you. We will even work for you. But we will be paid and treated as valuable members of your organizations.’” Riveting stuff, huh? JACK: (to KATHERINE) Get going. You’ve got a very important man to see. KATHERINE: Keep your fingers crossed. JACK: For us, too. (KATHERINE exits. The printing press churns away at a rhythmic pace. Papers are bundled. Bundles are passed between NEWSIES and collected for distribution.) NEWSIES:

THIS IS FOR KIDS SHININ' SHOES ON THE STREET WITH NO SHOES ON THEIR FEET EVERYDAY. THIS IS FOR GUYS SWEATIN' BLOOD IN THE SHOPS WHILE THE BOSSES AND COPS LOOK AWAY. I'M SEEIN' KIDS STANDIN' TALL, GLARING AND RARIN' TO BRAWL, ARMIES OF GUYS WHO ARE SICK OF THE LIES GETTIN' READY TO RISE TO THE CALL! ONCE AND FOR ALL THERE'LL BE BLOOD ON THE WALL IF THEY DOUBT US. THEY THINK THEY'RE RUNNING THIS TOWN BUT THIS TOWN WILL SHUT DOWN WITHOUT US! NEWSIES GROUP 1: TEN THOUSAND KIDS IN THE SQUARE! NEWSIES GROUP 2: TEN THOUSAND KIDS IN THE SQUARE NEWSIES GROUP 1: TEN THOUSAND FISTS IN THE AIR! NEWSIES GROUP 2: TEN THOUSAND FISTS! NEWSIES: JOE YOU IS GONNA PLAY FAIR, ONCE AND FOR ALL! NEWSIES GROUP 1: ONCE AND FOR ALL! NEWSIES GROUP 2: ONCE AND FOR ALL! NEWSIES GROUP 1: ONCE AND FOR ALL! NEWSIES GROUP 2: ONCE AND FOR ALL! NEWSIES GROUP 1: ONCE AND FOR ALL! NEWSIES GROUP 2: ONCE AND FOR ALL! (Ready to hit the streets, the NEWSIES raise their papers in defiance.) NEWSIES: THERE'S CHANGE COMIN' ONCE AND FOR ALL. YOU'RE GETTING TOO OLD, TOO WEAK TO KEEP HOLDIN' ON. A NEW WORLD IS GUNNIN' FOR YOU, AND JOE WE IS TOO, TILL ONCE AND FOR ALL, YOU'RE GONE! DAVEY: ONCE AND FOR ALL! JACK: ONCE AND FOR ALL! DAVEY, RACE, SPOT, MIKE, IKE, & MUSH: ONCE AND FOR ALL! NEWSIES: ONCE AND FOR ALL! (The sun rises as KATHERINE heads to her meeting, the Newsies Banner and JACK’s drawings in hand.) #20A- Once And For All (Playoff) 44 SCENE EIGHT: Pulitzer’s Office, Next Morning (The office is in full panic mode. HANNAH and BUNSEN scramble to answer phones as they continue to ring incessantly. PULITZER sits furiously at his desk.) HANNAH: (into the phone) I’m sorry, Mr. Pulitzer will have to call you back. BUNSEN: I’m sorry, but he’ll have to call you back. HANNAH: (next phone) He can’t talk. He’ll call you back— BUNSEN: I’m sorry, but he’ll— I’m sorry. I’m sorry. PULITZER: Silence those phones!!! (HANNAH and BUNSEN remove the receivers from their cradles.) BUNSEN: The entire city is shut down. No one is working anywhere. And everyone is blaming you. HANNAH: They’re all calling: the Mayor, the publishers, the manufacturers... and such language! (JACK, DAVEY, and SPOT enter merrily, chased by SEITZ.) SEITZ: You can’t just barge in... JACK: (offers up the Newsies Banner to PULITZER) How we doin’ this morning, gents? PULITZER: You’re behind this? We had a deal. JACK: (tosses bribe money on PULITZER’s desk) And it came with a money-back guarantee. And thanks for your lessons on the power of the press. SEITZ: (examining the article) Did you read this boss? These kids put out a pretty good paper. Very convincing. PULITZER: No doubt written by my daughter. JACK: (now reclining in an office chair) I’d sign her before someone else grabs her up. PULITZER: I demand to know who defied my ban on printing strike material! JACK: We’re your loyal employers. SPOT: We’d never take our business elsewhere. SEITZ: (examining the paper) The old printing press in the cellar. PULIZTER: (taking measured steps toward JACK) I made you the offer of a lifetime. Anyone who does not act in his own self-interest is a fool. DAVEY: What’s that make you? This all began because you wanted to sell more papers. But now your circulation is down seventy percent. Why didn’t you just come talk to us? JACK: Guys like Joe don’t talk with nothin’s like us. But a very wise reporter told me a real boss don’t need the answers. Just the smarts to snatch the right one when he hears it. (NEWSIES sing in Newsie Square below Pulitzer’s office.) #20B- Seize The Day (Reprise 2)- Newsies NEWSIES: NOW IS THE TIME TO SEIZE THE DAY STARE DOWN THE ODDS AND SEIZE THE DAY MINUTE BY MINUTE, THAT’S HOW YOU WIN IT WE WILL FIND A WAY. BUT LET US SEIZE THE DAY. HMMMMMM……(The NEWSIES continue to hum as a drum beats steadily.) SPOT: Have a look out there, Mr. Pulitzer. In case you ain’t figured it out, we got you surrounded. JACK: New York is closed for business. Paralyzed. You can’t get a paper or a shoe shine. You can’t send a

message or ride an elevator or cross the Brooklyn Bridge. You can’t even leave your own building. So, what’s your next move? (BUNSEN rushes back into the room in a tizzy.) BUNSEN: Mr. Pulitzer, the Mayor is here along with your daughter and... oh you’re not going to believe 45 who else! (In walk the MAYOR, KATHERINE, MEDDA, and GOVERNOR TEDDY ROOSEVELT.) MAYOR: Good morning, Mr. Pulitzer. I think you know the Governor. PULITZER: Governor Roosevelt? ROOSEVELT: Joseph, Joseph, Joseph. What have you done now? PULITZER: I’m sure when you hear my explanation— ROOSEVELT: Thanks to Miss Medda Larkin bringing your daughter to my office, I already have a thorough grasp of the situation- graphic illustrations included. (brandishes JACK’s drawings) Bully is the expression I usually employ to show approval. But in your case I simply mean bully! (to KATHERINE, referring to JACK) Is this the boy of whom you spoke? KATHERINE: Yes Sir. ROOSEVELT: (to JACK) How are you, son? I’m told we once shared a carriage ride. JACK: Pleasure’s mine, Mr. Governor. ROOSEVELT: (to PULITZER) Well, Joe, don’t just stand there letting those children sing… endlessly. Give them the good news. PULITZER: What good news? ROOSEVELT: That you’ve come to your senses and rolled back your prices. Unless, of course, you want to invite a full state senate investigation into your employment practices. PULITZER: (red with anger) You wouldn’t— ROOSEVELT: After the pressure you wielded to keep me from office? I’d do it with a smile. Come along, Joseph. There’s only one thing worse than a hard heart, and that’s a soft head. (PULITZER growls and postures.) And think of the happiness you’ll bring those children. (to HANNAH) He doesn’t do happiness, does he? HANNAH: (hushed) No sir. PULITZER: (cornered, shifting tactics) Mr. Kelly, if I may speak to you...alone. (The OTHERS withdraw from the room.) ROOSEVELT: (to JACK) Keep your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ground. You can do this. (ROOSEVELT exits. JACK and PULITZER are alone.) PULITZER: I cannot put the price back where it was. (JACK starts to move away.) I’m sorry, I can’t. There are other considerations— JACK: I get it. You need to save face front of all these folks. I’m young, I ain’t stupid. PULITZER: Thank you for understanding. JACK: But I got constituents with a legitimate gripe. PULITZER: What if I reduce the raise by half and get the others to do the same? It’s a compromise we can all live with. JACK: (he thinks…) But you eat our losses. From now on, any papes we can’t sell, you buy back- full price. PULITZER: That’s never been on the table! What’s to stop Newsies from taking hundreds of papers they can’t sell? My costs will explode! JACK: No Newsie is gonna break his back haulin’ around papes he can’t sell. But if they can take a few more with no risk, they might sell ‘em and your circulation would begin to grow...(mocking PULITZER) “It’s a compromise we can all live with.” PULITZER: (calming considerably) That’s not a bad head you’ve got on your shoulders. JACK: Deal? (JACK spits in his hand and holds it out for PULITZER to shake.) PULITZER: That’s disgusting. JACK: Just the price of doing business. (PULITZER spits in his hand. JACK grabs it and shakes. Deal sealed.) 46 SCENE NINE: Newsie Square #21- Finale Ultimo (Part 1)- Company NEWSIES/BROOKLYN NEWSIES: AND THE WORLD WILL KNOW, WE BEEN KEEPIN’ SCORE EITHER THEY GIVES US OUR RIGHTS OR WE GIVES THEM A WAR WE BEEN DOWN TOO LONG, AND WE PAID OUR DUES AND THE THINGS WE DO TODAY WILL BE TOMORROW’S NEWS. AND THE DIE IS CAST, AND THE TORCH IS PASSED NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND A ROAR WILL RISE… NEWSIES GROUP 2: … FROM THE STREETS BELOW NEWSIES GROUP 1: AND OUR RANKS WILL GROW NEWSIES: AND GROW AND GROW AND GROW AND GROW AND GROW AND…. (JACK, KATHERINE, MEDDA, SPOT, DAVEY, ROOSEVELT, and PULITZER come out to the square. PULITZER, ROOSEVELT, and JACK mount a raised platform to address the CROWD.) JACK: Newsies of New York City... we won!!! (The CROWD cheers. JACK quiets them.) And now I’d like to

introduce my own personal pal, Governor Theodore Roosevelt himself!!! (The CROWD cheers.) ROOSEVELT: (recognizing this historical moment) Each generation must, at the height of its power, step aside and invite the young to share the day. You have laid claim to our world and I believe the future, in your hands, will be bright and prosperous. (to JACK) And your drawings, son, have brought another matter to bear. (signaling offstage) Officers, if you please. (A police whistle sounds. CRUTCHIE appears, blowing the whistle and waiving.) RACE: Hey lookit, Jack. It’s Crutchie! NEWSIES: (ad lib) Crutchie! CRUTCHIE: Hiya, fellas. You miss me? NEWSIES: (ad lib) Yeah. Sure. Ain’t been the same without ya. CRUTCHIE: And lookit what I got yis: straight from The Refuge. (calling offstage) Bring him in, fellas! (Two POLICEMEN enter with SNYDER between them.) RACE: It’s Snyder the Spider! MUSH: He ain’t lookin’ so tough no more, is he? ROOSEVELT: Jack, with these drawings you made an eloquent argument for shutting down The Refuge. Be assured that Mr. Snyder’s abuses will be fully investigated. (to a POLICEMAN) Officer, take him away. CRUTCHIE: (to ROOSEVELT) Please, Your Highness... may I do the honors? (ROOSEVELT gives him the approval. CRUTCHIE slaps handcuffs onto SNYDER.) SNYDER: You’ve got to be joking. CRUTCHIE: And you’ll be laughing all the way to the pen, “little man.” (CRUTCHIE gives SYNDER a kick in the rear.) So long, sucker! JACK: Thank you, Governor. (JACK races down to embrace CRUTCHIE. PULITZER steps forward, snatching JACK’s drawings away from ROOSEVELT.) PULITZER: (to JACK) I can’t help thinking... if one of your drawings convinced the governor to close The Refuge, what might a daily political cartoon do the expose the dealings in our own government back rooms? (to ROOSEVELT) What do you say, Teddy? Care to have this young man’s artistry shine a lantern behind your closed doors? 47 JACK: Don’t sweat it, Gov. With the strike settled, I probably should be hitting the road. (DAVEY and KATHERINE move towards JACK.) DAVEY: Don’t you ever get tired of singing that same old tune? What’s Santa Fe got that New York ain’t? Tarantulas? KATHERINE: Better yet: what’s New York got that Santa Fe ain’t? CRUTCHIE: New York’s got us. And we’re family. PULITZER: (bellowing from above) Didn’t I hear something about a strike being settled? (WIESEL and the DELANCEYS open the distribution window as PULITZER exits.) WIESEL: Papes for the Newsies. Line up, boys. These papes ain’t gonna sell themselves. MEDDA: (exiting with ROOSEVELT) Come along, Governor, and show me that back seat I’ve been hearing so much about. KATHERINE: (teasing JACK) Well don’t just stand there, you’ve got a union to run. Besides, didn’t someone just offer you a pretty exciting job? JACK: Me work for your father? KATHERINE: You already work for my father. JACK: Oh, yeah. KATHERINE: And you’ve got one more ace up your sleeve. JACK: What would that be? KATHERINE: Me. Wherever you go, I’ll be right there by your side. JACK: For sure? KATHERINE: For sure. JACK: DON’T TAKE MUCH TO BE A DREAMER. ALL YOU DO IS CLOSE YOUR EYES. BUT SOME MADE-UP WORLD IS ALL YOU EVER SEE NOW MY EYES IS FINALLY OPEN. AND MY DREAMS, THEY’S AVERAGE SIZE BUT THEY DON’T MUCH MATTER IF YOU AIN’T WITH ME (JACK grabs KATHERINE in an embrace and they kiss.) LES: (pointing to the public display of affection) Guys! (The NEWSIES catcall and whistle their approval.) DAVEY: Well, Jack… you in or you out? (JACK leaves KATHERINE. With a big smile, he approaches WIESEL, slaps his money down on the counter, and snatches up his papes.) #21A-Finale Ultimo (Part 2)- Company COMPANY: WE'LL ALL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER MAN TO MAN! WE'RE ALWAYS OUT THERE, SOAKIN' EV'RY SUCKER THAT WE CAN. HERE'S THE HEADLINE: NEWSIES ON A MISSION! KILL THE COMPETITION! SELL THE NEXT EDITION! WE'LL BE OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! SEE US OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! ALWAYS OUT THERE CARRYING THE BANNER! LOOK AT ME: I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK!

SUDDENLY I'M RESPECTABLE, STARIN' RIGHT AT'CHA, LOUSY WITH STA'CHA. GLORY BE! I'M THE KING OF NEW YORK! VICTORY! FRONT PAGE STORY GUTS AND GLORY I’M THE KING…OF NEW YORK! (BOWS.) THE END

#Long post

[lilyvandersteen]

Facing Your Dragons Chapter 5

Blaine's story finally comes to an end, and he goes to the Hudmel's again for a cooking lesson.

You can also read the story on AO3 or on FF.net.

Chapter 5: Stories and Spuds

That Tuesday afternoon, the children were surprised to see Blaine enter the snoozle room again.

“Where’s Sam?” Ryan asked.

Blaine shrugged. “Dolores said he couldn’t make it this week. So you get me again today. Is that okay?”

The children grinned and shouted, “Yay!”

Blaine felt his cheeks heat up. “All right then… Let’s get on with the story.”

“The next morning, the children woke up to the tantalising smell of a cooked breakfast, and hurried downstairs to the kitchen.

They ran into the pixies, but they seemed just as hungry as the children, foraging for spiders and bugs and paying them no attention when they slipped past.

In the kitchen, Mrs Rose and Mr Banner greeted them with a hearty “Good morning!”

The cook put a heaping plate of eggs, bacon, hashed browns and fried tomatoes and mushrooms in front of them. Keith got a silver platter instead of a plate, with all the different kinds of food neatly divided.

“Thank you, Mrs Rose!” the children chorused, and they tucked in happily.

After breakfast, they helped the cook with the dishes, while Keith told her all about the ideal dragon’s diet. “No dairy at all, they can’t digest it well, and it gives them heartburn. They should mostly eat meat. Poultry is best. If you give them red meat, it should be lean. Trim off the fat. Especially when you feed them lamb or mutton. That’s the worst kind of fat.”

Mrs Rose made sure to jot down Keith’s instructions, and thanked all three of them for their help.

“You’ll be leaving, then?” Mr Banner asked.

“We promised to draw Sybil a picture,” Keith reminded him.

So Mr Banner took them up to the attic to rummage in the trunks of the former chatelain’s belongings until they found drawing supplies.”

A boy raised his hand.

“Yes?”

“What’s a chatelain?”

“The lord of the castle. The lady of the castle is called the chatelaine. It’s French.”

“Oh.”

“They each made a colourful drawing, wrote on it “To Sybil” and handed it to Mr Banner.

“Beautiful,” the ghost said. “Oh, I’m going to miss having you around. It’s been so much fun.”

“So much fun,” Ruth concurred.

“You’re always welcome,” Mrs Rose told her. “All of you. And you can bring your friends. We love having people over.”

The children grinned and promised to come back one day.

Then, they put on their coats and hats, thanked Mrs Rose and Mr Banner for their hospitality and left the castle, turning around to wave before they took the path back to town.

At the orphanage, the matron folded the three children into her arms with a sound between a sob and a sigh. Keith stiffened, and the matron quickly let him go and apologised. “I’m sorry, bub, I didn’t think… I’m just… SO relieved you’re all back safe and sound!”

Keith stepped away a little and gingerly gave her a pat on the arm. “We’re okay, Matron. I promise.”

“We had a lovely time,” Lou said. “The castle and the creatures in it were so interesting. And the food was scrumptious.”

Everyone crowded around them and listened with bated breath as they recounted their adventures.

“They sound nice,” said Ryan. “Well, except for Sybil.”

Ruth nodded. “Oh, they are. And I think Mr Banner and Mrs Rose feel pretty lonely. They loved having us visit, and they were sad to see us go. Said we were welcome any time. And our friends too.”

The matron tilted her head to the side. “Hmm… You said the poltergeists needed a snoozle room?”

“They have nothing to stim with,” Keith confirmed. “Nothing. They were banging their heads against the wall. And fidgeting.”

“And making a noise like a tea kettle,” Lou added.

The matron tut-tutted. “Oh, those poor dears… Well, we could make them a soft carpet and wall hangings. To thank them for their hospitality. Do you have any idea how big the room is?”

They turned to Keith expectantly.

“I’d say about 430 square feet,” he said. “And the ceiling’s about ten feet high.”

It took them over a month to make the carpet, and the matron had to stay up late for weeks on end to finish the wall hangings in time for Christmas.

On Christmas morning, after the children had eaten breakfast and opened their presents, they put on their warmest outerwear, and set off to the castle. They noticed that the path was no longer overgrown, and that it had been broadened and repaved.

“See?” said Lou. “They really want us to come visit them again!”

When they reached the driveway, Mr Banner appeared, beaming ear to ear. A few children screamed, but they were shushed and comforted straight away.

“Welcome, welcome! You’ve brought friends! Oh, this is wonderful!”

The matron cleared her throat. “What do we say to Mr Banner?”

“Merry Christmas, Mr Banner!” chorused the children.

Mr Banner chuckled. “Merry Christmas to you all! Come in, come in! Mrs Rose was hoping you’d come by. Though I don’t think any of us hoped that so many of you would come!”

“We’ve brought gifts!” Ruth announced. “We practised Christmas carols to sing for the pixies. We brought drawings and friendship bracelets for you and Mrs Rose and Sybil. For the dragon, we have herbs that will help settle its stomach. And we made soft things for the poltergeists, to make their room nicer.”

The children showed Mr Banner the carpet and the wall hangings.

“Marvellous. Just marvellous! We gave them a few sheep skins, because you said they needed soft furnishings, but this is so much better!”

All the children from the orphanage headed inside, and Mr Banner brought them straight to the kitchen for hot chocolate and a snack.

Mrs Rose was glad to see them. “Oh goodness me! You’ve brought all your friends! Well, thank heavens I’ve been baking all day yesterday. Help yourself to a sugar cookie or a bun, children, and I’ll fill you a mug of hot chocolate to warm you up after your long walk.”

Soon, all the children were munching away happily, and chatting a mile a minute to Mrs Rose and Mr Banner.

The matron, too, seemed very much at ease, complimenting Mrs Rose on her iced buns and requesting the recipe for the cook at the orphanage.

After snack time, they went upstairs. First, they sang to the pixies. Then they arranged the carpet and the wall hangings for the poltergeists, who looked rather alarmed when their room was invaded by dozens of children, but were quick to touch the new furnishings and hum happily.

“They’ve quieted down a lot already,” said Mr Banner. “They love the sheep skins I’ve given them, and they’re playing with the pom-poms a lot. I can tell that it helps. They seem happier.”

“Maybe divide the room into three separate spaces?” the matron suggested. “That way, if they want to visit each other, they can, but if they want some quiet time to themselves, they won’t be disturbed by the others.”

Mr Banner promised he’d look into it, and led them to the dragon, who drank deeply of the herbal tea they’d brewed for it and let out a tiny burp. That made the children giggle, and the flame that came out of its mouth made them whoop and cheer.

They stayed the whole day, and trudged back to the orphanage with their bellies full, already looking forward to their next visit.

That day came sooner than they’d expected.

The orphanage was established in an old derelict house. There were always problems of some kind – roof leaks, plumbing or wiring issues, the wind blasting in through the thin windows and making everyone shiver. But they’d always found a solution.

On New Year’s Day, though, something happened that they could not solve. A storm blew a tree over, and it went straight through the roof of the orphanage. Two children were injured, the staircase was completely destroyed and the whole house wobbled like it could fall over any moment.

The matron herded everyone out and took them to the town hall, to discuss what should be done with the mayor.

The mayor was less than helpful. “Well, uhm… Can’t you contact the children’s families and ask them to take the children in?”

The matron quirked her eyebrow. “Why would they do that when they sent them to the orphanage in the first place?”

“Well, uhm… I’ll discuss it with the council and get back to you.”

“How long will that take?”

“Well, uhm… A month? Given the urgency, we could speed that up to two weeks, maybe?”

The matron huffed, and steered the children out of the town house, and straight to the path that led to the castle. And there they stayed for the rest of their days, and they all lived…”

“Happily ever after!!” Lou yelled. “Oh wow, that was amazing! I wish that castle was a real place. That we could visit.”

The other children concurred.

Blaine checked his watch, and saw that he had run over a little, and that he really had to leave if he wanted to be at Kurt’s in time for a cooking lesson.

“Well, that will be it for today,” he announced to loud groans. “Tomorrow, Kurt will be back!”

A cheer went up.

“Will you be coming too?” asked Ryan.

“I’ll be here,” Blaine promised, and he accepted a few hugs before he hurried away.

Dolores whistled as he passed. “Another hot date, handsome?”

Blaine winked at her. “You know it!”

“I take it you’ll share Kurt’s session tomorrow, lover boy?”

“Right again! Bye!”

With a wave at Dolores, Blaine was out the door.

Fifteen minutes later, he was peeling potatoes while telling Kurt the next part of the story.

By the time he reached the end, the dish was in the oven, and he was helping Kurt assemble the side salad.

“Quite the story teller, aren’t you?” a gruff voice said, and both boys jumped up in fright.

Burt chuckled. “Jeez, you live in your own world, the both of you. I’ve been here for at least twenty minutes. Kicked the mud off my boots at the back door, put the groceries in the fridge and the pantry, and made myself coffee. Not exactly Mr Stealth. What more do I have to do to tell you I’m here? Sound a foghorn?”

Kurt’s ear tips reddened. “Dad…”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll make myself scarce, I get it. How long ‘till we can eat?”

“Another twenty minutes, Dad.”

“All right. Nice story, kid, and your eye’s getting better, I can tell.”

Blaine blinked in surprise, but Burt was gone before he could say anything.

Kurt ran his fingers over Blaine’s injured eye in a feather-light touch, peering at it with his brow furrowed in concentration. “Dad’s right. It’s looking better. A lot less puffy, and lighter in colour. You’ll still need concealer tomorrow, though. And for a few days after that.”

Blaine let out a mirthless laugh. “If by that time, I don’t have a new shiner. I get to go back to school on Thursday, and Karofsky may be out of commission for a while, but there are plenty of other meatheads that will want to make my life miserable.”

Kurt squared his jaw. “Let them try. I’ll introduce you to my friends Thursday morning. They may be girls, but nobody at school messes with Quinn, Santana and Lauren. Stick with us and none of the jocks will mess with you. That is, if your fight with Karofsky hasn’t put the wind up them already. Everyone at school is still talking about it. You’ve got quite the reputation!”

Blaine grinned. “Impressed, are they?”

Kurt glared at him. “You had better not get into any more fights, mister! I don’t want you expelled, and that’s sure to happen if they catch you again! Figgins won’t listen when you tell him it was self-defence.”

Blaine remembered the principal’s sanctimonious words and knew that Kurt was right. That was a sobering thought, and he resolved to keep a low profile for the rest of the year.

Dinner was a quiet affair that evening. Blaine wasn’t in the mood to chat, and neither seemed the others.

All Burt said was, “Tastes good, boys!”, and Kurt urged his father twice to take some more salad.

Burt disappeared to the living room again, and Blaine cleared the table and helped Kurt do the dishes. While rinsing the plates of soapy suds, Kurt started humming. Blaine joined in, and before long, there was an impromptu concert going on in the kitchen.

Blaine didn’t stay as long as the previous day. He left with a shopping list in his pocket, for the meal they’d be making at his house.

He took a quick shower and studied his eye in the mirror. Yes, it wasn’t as noticeable as before, but he’d still need Kurt to work his magic and hide it, or his mother would have a cow.

As he flopped onto his bed and closed his eyes, he wondered what his mom would think of Kurt? She knew how to look past Blaine’s bad boy persona, but he was her son, of course. How would she react to Kurt’s studs and tats and pink hair? And to Kurt taking over her kitchen?

Well, if she gets a nice meal out of it, Mom can’t complain. And Kurt is a really good cook. She’ll appreciate that.

Blaine fell asleep to the thought of Kurt and Pam swapping recipes, smiling at the sweet scene his mind conjured up.

Mom is sure to like Kurt. He’s amazing!

#klaine fanfiction #my fic #facing your dragons #chapter 5 #enjoy!

[royalrhaposdy]

Of Course I Care [ Brian May ]

Word count: 1.2k+

Request: Heyy, i only wanted to tell you that i love te way you write, it’s so cooooool. I was just wondering, could you do a Brian x Reader roommate au? iluuuu

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

_________________________________________

Your morning was already off to a rough start, you had woken up late, with no time for breakfast and now you couldn’t find your bag that had paperwork that had to be submitted today. You were running around the flat desperately trying to locate your missing bag. In the meantime, your roommate, Brian, was just watching you with a big smirk plastered on his face.

Realization hit you, you must have left your bag lying around. One thing you have learned after living with Brian was he really hated it when you left your belongings just lying around, “Brian, where did you put my bag?”

“Y/N, if you would put stuff away, you’d know where it is.”, you groaned, you knew he was just trying to teach you a lesson normally you would’ve just apologized but you were getting later by the second.

“Please Bri, I’m already late,” you were getting ready to beg when Brian just let out a big sigh and said, “It’s in the closet where it belongs.” You rushed to the closet, pulled your bag out, and rushed out the door.

You and Brian had met in college and had almost instantaneously felt comfortable with him. It didn’t take long for you two to become best friends. He would invite you to come to Smile’s gigs and you would invite him to your art exhibitions; you were each other's biggest fans. Once the both of you graduated you decided to find an apartment together. It’s been about three years since you moved in with Brian and it was still one of the best decisions you’ve ever made; he was the perfect roommate and the perfect best friend.

Eight long hours later you finally returned home from work. You opened the door to find Brian sitting on the couch strumming his guitar, he looked up at you when you entered the room. “How was work?”,he asked.

“It was fine, my boss didn’t even seem to notice that I was late, thank god.” You sat in the chair across from him and put your feet up, it was good to be home.

He nodded and began strumming his guitar again. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, you closed your eyes and listened to the first few chords of Keep Yourself Alive, when all of a sudden he spoke up and asked, “Hey Y/N, are you doing anything tonight?”

“No, I’m not, why?”every time Brian invited you to anything it was always fun.

“Queen was invited to play at the club downtown, do you wanna come?”

“I’d love to! What time?” you were hoping you’d have a few more minutes to relax before you had to start getting ready.

“Umm, I think it starts at 10, but I have to leave at 9.” you glanced over at the clock on the wall, it was somehow already 8:00, you’d definitely have to start getting ready now.

You quickly pushed yourself up off the chair and gave Brian a pat on the shoulder as you made your way towards your room. “Good luck tonight, I know you guys will kill it like always.”

He smiled up at you, “If you get there before the show come backstage, I’ll give security your name.”

“Okay thanks, Bri, I’ll see you there.”

After taking a shower, drying and styling your air, applying makeup and choosing an outfit you were finally ready to go.

You grabbed your car keys and checked the time, it was only 9:15, you were delighted that you still had time to wish the guys good luck before their set.

Fifteen minutes later you pulled up to the club and made your way in, you noticed that the crowds seem to be tripling in size every time you go to see Queen perform. You made your way past security and to the boys’ dressing room. You knocked on the door it was quickly opened up by a very hyper looking Roger. “Hey Rog, how are you?” you quickly found yourself wrapped in a hug.

“I’m great love,” he said as he gestured for you to come in. You gave the same greeting to all of the boys before settling into the seat beside Brian. “The crowd out there is huge, congrats guys!”

Freddie was beaming at your comment, “It’s all thanks to the release of our album, darling.” You sat around chatting to the band until a man came into the dressing room to give the guys a 5-minute warning.

“Well guys, I guess that’s my cue to go find a place to watch from. Go kill it.”

As you left the room and made your way to the stage you noticed that the room was even more packed than before. Luckily you were able to find a good spot to watch the boys from.

As always you enjoyed every minute of their set, it never ceases to amaze you how easily they connected with the crowd. Once the set was over you made your way backstage to congratulate the boys on a great set. As you made your way into the dressing room you couldn’t help but blurt out, “You guys absolutely killed it, they loved you!” The smiles on the boys' faces told you that they already knew how well they did.

“Thanks, Y/N, hey the boys and I were offered free drinks you wanna stay?” as much as Brian’s offer was tempting, you were absolutely exhausted and had a ton of paperwork to finish.

“Thanks for the offer guys but I think I’m going to go home, don’t get too drunk now.” The boys couldn’t help but laugh at your comment. You said your goodbyes and headed home.

You were used to Brian staying out late partying with the boys since Queen really got popular every Friday night Brian would be out until 3 in the morning partying with the boys.

You had even developed a routine, Brian was a creature of habit he would always be home by 3am like clockwork. He would never come home super drunk but you always like to be there to help him just in case.  

When you arrived home, you got ready for bed and set your alarm on your phone for 2:30am and then went to bed.

2:30 came way quicker then you had hoped it would, you got up and sat on the couch to wait for Brian. However, 3 am came and went but Brian hadn’t come home yet, you began to panic this wasn’t like him at all.

You were all of a sudden woken up to the sound of a kettle boiling, you must have somehow fallen asleep on the couch last night.

You drowsily walked into your kitchen to find a tried looking Brian making tea, you so relieved to see he was okay but your temper began to boil at the sight of him.  “Why the hell didn’t you come home! I was so worried about you!” your sudden outburst caused Brian to jump.

“Jeez Y/N, it's fine I got too drunk so I decided to sleep in my car, calm down.”

“Calm down?! I was worried sick. God your such a twat sometimes.”

Brian began to laugh and walked closer to you, “Aweeee, does someone care about me?” you couldn’t help but let out a little laugh the goofy smile of his always got you.

“Of course I care about you. You’re my best friend.” he pulled you into a tight hug before whispering in your ear, “Are you still mad at me?”

You shook your head and smiled up at him, “No but you better not do that ever again.”

#Brian May #brian may one shot #brian may x reader #gwilym!brian #Queen #queen fanfiction #brian may imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody fanfiction #bohemian rhapsody story #royalraphsodywrites #gwilym lee one shot #roommate au

[psycho-slytherin]

Strangers ch. 15

Xiumin and Lisa both surprise you, albeit with very different stakes.

Pairing: Yoongi x (female) Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Genre: Fluff

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“So this is what you meant by see you tomorrow?”

Xiumin shrugs. “I hope you’re not disappointed?”

“How could I be?” you laugh, accepting his offered bouquet. “Here I was, ready for work–”

“Surprise! No work, just brunch,” Xiumin says, procuring a pastry box from behind him. “I bought croissants.”

“Yummy! Come in, let me make some coffee.” you pad back inside and set the coffeemaker to work, swiftly sweeping scrap paper and your latest homework assignments off the kitchen table to make room for two plates.

“Sorry for the mess,” you apologize.

“Not at all! It’s my fault for dropping in on you like this,” Xiumin says, setting down the box.

“You dropped in with flowers and food,” you say, grabbing a spare mug from the cupboard as the coffeemaker announces that it’s done. “You’re totally forgiven.”

“Awesome,” Xiumin says with a goofy grin. “How can I help?”

“Could you put those in that vase over there?” you say, nodding at the brilliant pink peonies. “And how did you know my favorite flower?”

“You did a performance with your improv troupe where you mentioned it,” Xiumin says. “It’s a random thing to make up, so I figured you were telling the truth.”

“You’ve seen our performances?”

Xiumin laughs. “Sure, it’s hard to ignore the posters all over campus.”

“What’s your major again? I forgot you went to Seoul Arts too,” you admit, using the shortened name for the university.

“Visual arts with an emphasis on contemporary painting,” he says. “So basically I’m destined to work at the cafe my whole life.”

“Same. You’re talking to an actress, remember?” you remind him.

“Ah, but you’re good at what you do.”

“I’m sure you are too,” you laugh, biting into a croissant. It’s soft, flaky, and the perfect thing to help you recover from your episode last night. You’ve heard of panic attacks, but surely that’s not what your minor freak-out was.

You finish breakfast with more pleasant chatter, and Xiumin stands to help you wash up.

“I actually had something I wanted to ask you,” he says as he dries off the dishes.

“Yeah? Shoot.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to be my girlfriend?”

Wuh?

“I know it’s fast and all,” Xiumin rushes to say. “I don’t need an answer right now. I… well, you’re pretty amazing, y/n. I don’t want someone else swooping you up while I’m pretending to like you only as a coworker–”

“Xiumin,” you say, elbowing him. “Calm down. I’ll think about it.”

His eyes gleam with happiness. “You will?”

“Of course.” Why wouldn’t you? Xiumin’s a nice guy, and he likes you. You like him too, right?

“Awesome! Then I’m gonna get going,” Xiumin says. “I, uh… I may or may not have told the manager I had a morning class, and I’m supposed to be back at the cafe-” he checks his watch, “Fifteen minutes ago.”

“Yeah, of course! Thanks for breakfast.” you wave him out the door before inhaling deeply. Well, that happened.

Shit, homework! You rush to your desk and open your laptop. With the craziness of yesterday, you’ve still got so much to do before tomorrow. You groan at the realization that you have a huge presentation due Friday, and you need to rehearse a monologue for your Shakespeare unit, plus all of your day-to day homework and your job at the cafe… It’s gonna be a busy week.

And it was. Between your morning classes, afternoon study sessions and night shifts at the cafe, the week goes by quicker than you expect.

You and Yoongi text whenever you can, but with his fanmeets and comeback preparation as well as your own schedule, you only manage rushed conversations. Still, you talk about both everything and nothing at all.

You sit back Saturday afternoon and stretch. It’s been a whirlwind of a week– you had dinner with Xiumin twice and Lisa’s come over just about every day to study with you. Even so, you’re pretty sure you failed your history exam, and your advanced literature essay was ninety percent bullshit.

A buzz behind you, and reach for your phone.

“Hello?”

“Darling y/n, my beautiful wife, the most amazing–”

“Lisa,” you sigh, bemused. “What do you want?”

“How do you know I want anything? Maybe I’m just wishing you a happy early birthday.”

“You only get that compliment-y when you want something.”

Lisa laughs over the phone. “You caught me. My housemates are having a cocktail party tonight, and I really don’t feel like going– you know how snobby they get when they’re drunk off martinis. Can I sleep over?”

“Of course! God forbid you face the wrath of Wendy’s tipsy critiques again,” you giggle. “Yeah, come on over whenever. We can watch a movie and stuff ourselves full of the cheapest ramen money can buy.”

“You know me so well,” Lisa says, sighing wistfully. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

“By which you mean three.”

“Don’t expose me, y/n!”

You laugh. “See you soon.”

Three hours later you hear a knock at your door and Lisa walks in with her overnight bag.

“I’m still jealous that you live alone,” she announces, flopping on your bed.

“In this tiny ass apartment that’s costing me an arm and a leg? I’ll trade you.”

“You’d rather five housemates than a kitchen you can barely turn around in?”

You consider it. “Good point. Never mind.”

“What movie do you want to watch?” Lisa asks, opening her laptop.

“Something American?” you suggest. “I’ve been meaning to practice my English.”

“Ugh, I hate subtitles,” Lisa whines. “But you’re the birthday girl, so I’ll be a good friend.”

“Wow, I feel like royalty,” you tease. “I’ll change into my pajamas. Pick whatever.”

A few hours later find you and Lisa bawling as the Titanic end credits roll.

“Th-that was beautiful,” Lisa sniffles.

“I’m never getting on a boat again,” you announce, wiping your eyes.

Still hiccuping, Lisa looks at her watch. “Woah! We need to sleep!”

You check your phone. “It’s not even midnight.”

“Yeah, but I’m totally taking you out for a birthday breakfast tomorrow, so we have to be up early.”

You smile at your friend. “Alright, fine. But you’re making too big a deal of it. It’s just a day.”

“You’re so weird. Of course it’s a big deal– your birthday only comes once a year! Now go to sleep. Goodnight!”

With the abrupt order, Lisa turns over in your bed and closes her eyes.

Why do I love her, you wonder as you climb into bed next to her. With your friend’s quiet breathing a calming constant, your eyes flutter shut and you let sleep take you.

“Did you see my bag? Did you see my bag?”

You groan, pressing your face against your pillow. “What the–”

“Sorry, sorry!” Lisa scrambles to shut off her alarm. “I forgot that was on.”

“Mm…” you’re about to turn over and fall back asleep when Lisa pokes your cheek. “Whaaat?”

“Happy birthday!”

You yawn, sitting up. “Thanks, hon.”

“Now let’s get going.”

“Excuse me?”

“I, uh… I made breakfast reservations for my bestie!” Lisa says excitedly.

“Ah, really? Thanks,” you reply, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surpri-ise,” Lisa sings. “Now get dressed. Wear something a little sexy, yeah?”

Your raise an eyebrow. “Sexy? For breakfast?”

“Or don’t. You’re the birthday girl,” Lisa tells you, already waiting by the door.

Twenty minutes later you’re speeding down a highway, dressed in a snug black v-neck and high waisted shorts. It’s only breakfast, after all.

Half an hour of driving leaves you drumming your fingers against the dashboard. “Are we there yet?”

“Tsk, you’re so impatient,” Lisa complains. “We’ll be there soon.”

“Good, I’m starving.”

“You’ll be very well fed, I promise,” Lisa says, winking at you.

“O-kay…”

Ten minutes later, the traffic begins getting heavier.

“Jeez, why are so many people out this early on a Sunday?” you say, staring at the line of cars in front of you.

“No clue, maybe they all want breakfast?” Lisa suggests.

“I guess.”

You eventually park in front of a large but nondescript building. Streaming past you are dozens of chattering teenage girls, most of them wearing… what?

“Why is literally everyone wearing Bangtan merch?” you hiss at Lisa.

She laughs sheepishly. “I guess I can’t keep it a secret any longer. Surprise, y/n! I got us tickets to a BTS fanmeet. Happy birthday!”

A/N Thank you so much for reading! As always, my inbox is open and I’d love any feedback you may have :)

#bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bantansonyeondan #bangtan boys #beyond the scene #bulletproof boy scouts #yoongi #suga #min yoongi #min suga #bts suga #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts banfiction #bts fluff #bts angst #bts drama #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi drama #suga fic #suga fanfic #suga fanfiction #suga fluff #suga angst #suga drama

[softestziam]

So, I’m taking a permanent break from writing, my heart’s not in it anymore. I am going to leave you all with my Bachelor AU fic though. It’s incomplete but it’s all I've got.

The birds were singing a beautiful song as they flew high in the cloudless, blue sky. Children could be heard laughing from the park a few blocks away, the daily bustle of people making their way to their next location. A perfect day all around.

That was until Zayn was forced awake by the loud noise coming from his phone. His alarm. With a groan he blindly searched for the bane of his existence, feeling around until he found it resting on his chest. He turned off the noise but still refused to open his eyes. He was way too hungover for this. This being a new day, sometimes even life.

That was a story he wasn't quite ready to delve deeper into just yet. Letting out a frustrated sigh Zayn finally opened his eyes and took in his surroundings, once again he was sleeping in the backseat of his car. The only thing he had to call his own at the moment, that was another story he didn't feel like thinking about right now.

It did look like a beautiful day, though. Not a single cloud in the sky and birds were actually chirping as they flew overhead. Hmm. Not even a full minute after he was actually awake Zayn's phone rang and he knew who it was calling him almost immediately. With an eye roll and a cough to clear his throat he begrudgingly answered.

“Lou.”

“Where the hell are you Malik?” Louis asked, practically yelling at him over the noise in the background. “Production starts in twenty and I can't have a show without my best producer, okay?”

Zayn internally groaned at the boldface lie Louis just spewed out. “I'm on my way, Lou. Just stopped to get a cuppa, want one?”

“Large Yorkshire, two sugars, no milk,” he rattled off. “That's another issue I won't get into right now, Welsh tea is shite, and craft service isn't up here yet. It's a slight disaster.”

“Breathe babe,” Zayn instructed him gently, sitting up in the backseat and rummaging through his knapsack for clean clothes. “Be there in twenty, okay?”

“Make it ten and I'll give you a raise,” Louis bargained.

“See you Lou,” he answered and hung up, throwing his phone on the driver's seat.

Once he found clean enough clothes, Zayn changed quickly, thanking whatever deity that was watching over him that day that he remembered to grab his deodorant before Adam kicked him out. He ran his hands through his hair, shaved close at the sides leaving the top long, before tying it up in a quick ponytail. He didn't have any clean socks so he turned the ones he wore yesterday inside out, it was better than going without, like Louis was always so keen on doing. He rummaged through his bag until he found a small bottle of mouthwash before spitting it out in the cup that rested in the console between the two front seats. This was his life and frankly it was rather pathetic.

Without a second thought Zayn finally left his car and hoped he could find a place in the middle of Wales that sold Yorkshire tea or else Louis would definitely have his arse. Thanking his lucky stars once more he spotted a coffee cart on his way to set, even better they had a large neon sign praising their authentic Yorkshire tea. Maybe it was a sign that things wouldn't go to shit this year, probably not, this was Zayn's life we are talking about. Fishing what little money he had in his pocket, Zayn gave it to the clerk before making his final trek to the set.

Once he arrived he realized what Louis was talking about. Everything looked chaotic, like a bomb had went off. Trucks were parked everywhere, producers, assistants, and writers were all standing around the spacious mansion, all looking completely lost.

“Malik!” Louis shouted at him once he was spotted. He smiled wide and grabbed his tea out of Zayn's hand before gulping down a large sip. “Not me mum's but it'll do. Welcome home straggler.”

“Home,” he scoffed and let himself be escorted through the masses. He casually nodded his head at the crew members he recognized, faking a smile at those he didn't. Louis pushed him up the stairs of the production trailer. His home for the next eight weeks. “Jeez, Lou, you splurged on a new couch this season.”

“Late nights at the office call for comfort,” he explained and sat in front of a messy desk. If you wanted it to call it a desk, it looked more like a table they had at canteens back in his uni days, covered in dirt and mysterious stains. “Take a seat and get yourself familiarized with this year's hopefuls.”

Zayn took the empty seat next to Louis and skimmed the binder quickly. Faces blending together quickly. Everyone looked the same on the show, fake smiles and even faker stories. They'd try anything to land on the show in hopes of finding true love. “And where's our suitor?”

“In the flat we set up for him down the road,” Louis groaned. “A real tosser this kid.”

“That's what you get for recruiting Liam Payne,” he laughed and flipped through the pages of the binder once more. “The first gay suitor and we end up with England's biggest headache, good job Tommo.”

Louis let out a fake laugh and bent down so he was crowding up Zayn's space, his head resting on his shoulder. “I've missed your bratty attitude, Malik. Feels like home.”

“Fuck off,” Zayn told him and pushed Louis's face away from his shoulder. “Niall here yet?”

“Set to arrive in an hour,” Louis answered and played with the walkie talkie clipped to his belt, finally turning it on. “Production meeting in fifteen, pick your boy and then we'll discuss incentives, okay?”

Zayn let Louis leave the truck as he read over the binder once more. This was common among the producers, they all picked a contestant that was going to win the heart of the suitor and at the end of the season whoever won, or came closest to winning, usually was rewarded financially. In the three years Zayn had worked for Everlasting he had never won. It was an ongoing joke among the staff, that whoever he chose usually was sent home first.

This time, this year he wanted to win, needed to win. He needed all the help he could get in the money department, and he was going to do whatever was in his power to do it. Lie, cheat, and steal was how Louis and the rest of the producers played the game and Zayn was more than willing to join in this year.

He read over the mini biography they had on this year's suitor, Liam Payne. Maybe if Zayn could get into his psyche a little he could choose someone who'd be compatible enough with him to win this whole thing. Zayn knew enough about Liam though, all of the United Kingdom did. He was a typical playboy, used and abused his status to get what he wanted. His father, Geoff Payne was a real estate mogul, made good money that way. He put money aside for his son, not allowed to touch it until he turned twenty one. Within the first year of receiving the money Liam had blown close to half of it. Zayn scoffed as he read over the biography, of course all the horrible stories about Liam were omitted. Typical.

Closing the binder with a thud that echoed in the empty truck, Zayn stood up and made his way to the production meeting. It was a short walk across the way but he could already hear the laughs as he approached the trailer. It already sounded like Louis was showing off, always a ham in front of an audience. Didn't matter the size of the crowd he always bathed in the attention.

Swinging open the door to the trailer Zayn froze. He immediately realized why they were all laughing. They were laughing at him. Last series finale was being projected on the large screen tv mounted on the wall in front of the room. He gripped the binder in his hands tighter, knuckles turning white with the pressure. Last year wasn't his proudest moment, that's when he hit rock bottom. Luckily the network and show runners omitted his very public breakdown from airing but it still stung to see. Especially now that Louis was showing it for a laugh.

Zayn watched himself on screen down a whole bottle of champagne in two gulps, staggering on the sand of the beach in whatever exotic island they were filming at. It was like a train wreck, he wanted to look away but he couldn't. This was the first time he actually saw the footage, for a long time Zayn just thought it was a very detailed dream he couldn't shake. Moments were a little fuzzy, specific things he may have done and said getting lost in his memory.

He started to cringe when everyone began to laugh again as onscreen Zayn approached the contestant as she stood in front of the suitor, stars in her eyes. He grabbed her face in his hands and slowly started to shake her, telling her that she was going to lose, not be proposed to. The contestant immediately started to cry and looked over Zayn's shoulder at the suitor, waiting for him to correct Zayn's statement. When he remained silent she went ballistic, on a mad rampage. She was crying, mascara instantly staining her cheeks. Zayn shrugged the entire thing off, walking along the beach as the camera followed his every move. The losing contestant continued her tirade, trying to kick and punch at the suitor who now rejected her.

In the simplest of terms, it was a complete disaster. Louis could be heard yelling at Zayn to get out of the shot, that he was ruining a perfectly good shot. The contestant kept physically showing her anger as stage hands and assistants tried to wrangle her free from the suitor.

Back in the production room everyone kept laughing and visibly kept cringing at the antics onscreen. Zayn sighed and stretched out his hands, dying for a cigarette to calm his nerves. Not even a full hour at work and his was already itching for a fix. Great.

“Cheers Lou. Thanks mate,” Zayn said dryly, licking his lips.

The small room of people quickly quieted down, all turning to look at an embarrassed Zayn who kept standing right by the door. Louis in front of the room like he belonged there. Technically he did, he was the executive producer of the entire show.

“What!” He exclaimed in shock. “I always show the series finale before a new season begins.”

Zayn rolled his eyes as he finally took a seat at an empty table, throwing open the binder and plucking a pen from the cup in front of him. “The episode that aired though, not the rough cuff.”

“Talking about rough,” one producer muttered unsuccessfully under her breath.

Louis cut his eyes at the female producer, a warning of some sort. “Oh get off it Malik, no harm, no foul, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Zayn replied with an eye roll. “Can we get down to business before the contestants show up, please?”

Louis paused the footage as some of the other producers and whoever else was in the room silently protested. Zayn really did hate a vast majority of his co workers, none of them really had any respect for him, that was obvious. That was also his own fault if he was being honest with himself.

He was a walking disaster all last series, drunk a majority of the time. He never expected it to culminate during the finale, the stress of the eight weeks of filming finally getting to him. His little meltdown during the finale got the attention of the shows creator and the network. The moment he arrived back in London he was rushed into the head of the network's offices and was given a stern talking to. Zayn wasn't allowed to speak unless he was given permission, which was a crock of shit by the way. He had to agree to go to a rehab for four weeks between series and he had to pay back all the structural damage that was caused.

He did what he was told though, went through the program and pretended to actually care. He was allowed to return for the new series and that was all Zayn really wanted anyway. He knew all eyes were going to be on him this time around, one false step and he would lose his job. Zayn knew how to get around things, had done it a majority of his life. He knew the only way to survive another eight weeks of filming was with some liquid courage, all which could be hidden by mouthwash and cologne.

“So the incentives you talked about earlier, Lou?” Zayn asked, tapping his pen loudly on the opened binder.

Louis took down the footage of the previous years season and opened up another folder. It was headshots of all twenty five contestants. “Everyone in this room will chose a contestant. Depending on what they do and what we capture on camera, you'll be handsomely rewarded. Sounds good?”

“How much are we getting when we win?” Sandy, a camera operator asked.

“£20,000,” Louis answered. “This is our first gay suitor, I wanted to raise the stakes a little. I have a board in my office truck with all these guys pictures, you'll simply just write your name underneath their picture and watch the magic unfold.”

The meeting ran a few minutes longer but Zayn had zoned out immediately after Louis stopped discussing money. He looked down at his binder once more and smiled at his choice, Harry Styles.

This kid was going to make him rich this series, he was Zayn's ticket out of this hellhole. He knew his choice would get him laughed at amongst the crew, but Zayn could feel it in his bones. This kid was going to be able to solve all his problems. Now he couldn't wait to meet him and mold him into the perfect contestant for Liam. Harry looked like the type of contestant that was going to be perfect for the camera, the audience was going to eat him up immediately, hopefully Liam would too.

Once the meeting was over Zayn grabbed his things and headed straight towards the mansion. The cameramen were setting up and there were wires all over the floor, he had to tiptoe around them, hoping not to trip over them. The limos could been seen up the hill, just waiting for their cue. Makeup and hair people were running around like crazy, getting whoever was going to be on camera ready. Zayn stole a pack of barbecue crisps from the craft service table that finally arrived. He munched on them loudly, nodding his head in greeting to Niall when he made his appearance.

Niall was a good lad, been presenter of the show since the very first day. He too had become jaded of the whole thing, but a paycheck was a paycheck and no one in their right mind was going to turn that down. If Zayn was one of the lonely housewives who watched the show every Monday night he'd watch solely to see Niall. His charisma was unmatched in the industry, and genuine too. When filming ran long Zayn could always depend on Niall for a good joke and a stiff drink, two things neither boys could live without.

The noise around the mansion ended abruptly when Liam finally made it on stage, a PA literally dragging him. Great. That's exactly how Zayn predicted this season was going to go. A stubborn rich boy who thought he was too good for the show even when he personally contacted the show. Whatever. Zayn had other things to worry about anyway, like making sure all the limousines were lined up and ready to drop off the contestants without any issue.

Louis walked fast towards Zayn, his hands flailing about as he talked fast into his walkie talkie, more than likely yelling at other producers to get their shit together. It was typical day one nonsense. He had his shit together so Zayn had nothing to worry about, he hoped. He got an appreciative smile from Louis as he zoomed by him so Zayn knew he wasn't messing up. The limousines were ready, Niall and Liam were ready, all that was left was aiming the cameras and recording.

“Welcome to Everlasting,” Niall smiled and greeted the home audience warmly as soon as he was given his cue. Thus began the newest season.

Zayn stood behind all the camera and production crew, binder still held tightly in his hands. He watched as Louis ran from limousine to limousine instructing the constants what to do once they exited the vehicle, it seemed all a little boring and mundane after the sixth guy.

Zayn's job was to make sure the cars didn't end up piling up, a mini traffic jam in front of the mansion. It was a pretty easy job, say some words into this walkie talkie and call it a day. He knew it was going to be a long night, especially how Liam was reacting to every guy the approached him. They all came with a cheesy chat up line, always thinking they were the first person to make a pun out of Liam's last name. None of them were creative or charming.

Niall was fantastic as always, greeting each new contestant like he was the first. Zayn had to hide his smirk behind his binder more than once at him, his eyes were screaming for help even though he plastered on his smile like a champ. Louis was always within his eyeshot, running around behind the crew, barking orders at assistants and camera people. The first day was always the hardest for him, for all of them really. If the first day went smoothly, everything else after all just fell into place just as easily.

The twenty third contestant was making his way into the mansion after his introduction, the sun starting to rise behind the home. They'd been at this for close to four hours. All the stopping and going again just kept dragging on. Everyone was exhausted, the craft service table was practically bare at this point. All the junk food gone around two in the morning. Louis had sent some production assistant out for a coffee and tea run knowing they had at least two more hours of filming before they called it a day. Zayn was just itching for a cigarette and maybe a stiff drink, something to take the edge off.

“Hey Malik, your boy is next,” Dana, a camera operator, joked, winking at him.

Zayn looked down at his binder and nodded with a knowing smile. Harry was the next to last contestant to meet Liam. Liam who looked just as miserable as Zayn felt, good. It always warmed his heart to see the suitors uncomfortable, always made for good tv.

He spoke into his walkie talkie, letting the next limousine driver that he could pull up in front of the mansion. Louis made a mad dash to the car, going over the instructions for the twenty fourth time that day. He was running on autopilot at that point, just gibberish leaving his lips as he spoke now. Louis moved quickly behind the camera as Niall walked up to Liam, letting him know the brief history he had on Harry.

Harry Styles, 22 years old from Holmes Chapel. Just graduated from university with a degree in sociology, thinking about becoming a lawyer. Currently works at a bakery that he's been working in since he was sixteen. The basics that looked like they bored Liam to death. Honestly Zayn couldn't really blame him, after the tenth guy he zoned out too.

The door of the limo opened and out sprang Harry, all long hair and even longer limbs. He looked completely different than the headshot the production crew had of him. This Harry was more of a man than the shy little boy Zayn was expecting to see. He walked with such confidence up to Liam. Dressed in skin tight black skinny jeans, a pink and white button down shirt, only the last two buttons actually done up. His chest was on display, covered in black ink and pale skin. Zayn smirked as Liam gawked at Harry and shook his hand. Jackpot. This kid was going to make him rich.

“Why can't the flower ride his bike?” Harry asked Liam.

Liam looked around the production area, a little unsure as to what was happening. “Umm I-I don't know. Why?”

Harry broke out into a wide grin, showing off his impressive dimples. Zayn was grinning like a fool behind the camera, this feeling was almost as good as getting high or drunk. “Because his petals fell off.”

And that was the moment Zayn Malik wanted to end his life or career, or both. Harry had all the potential in the world. He was tall and attractive, probably could've been a model in another life. But no, this real life Harry had to fuck up his first impression with his potential future fiancé by making a dad joke.

Zayn held his breath as he grimaced from second hand embarrassment. A few members of the crew laughed at the sheer stupidity of it while some actually genuinely laughed at the damn joke. The whole thing was a train wreck, more than likely delighting Louis who just saw everything as ratings. Everyone waited with bated breath for Liam's reaction, at first he just remained stoic, unable to read.

“Did you just dad joke me?” He asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” Harry replied proudly. Oh, poor, poor boy.

“I liked it,” he admitted, breaking out into a wide grin and a true laugh. His eyes got lost in his smile, his cheeks rising and laugh lines appeared by his eyes. This was the first time all night anyone saw a genuine emotion from Liam Payne. Maybe Zayn wasn't out of luck with this Harry kid after all. “I know I have one more guy to see before I'm supposed to make my decision. But umm, I want to give you the first impression rose.”

“Me?” Harry asked, taken aback. His green eyes were shining as the threatening to rise sun began to shine in front of him. “Over one stupid joke?”

“It's the first time I've laughed all night,” Liam told him, a blush creeping up his cheeks. Oh gag. This was getting to be too much. He took the single flower from the tray next to him and pinned it to Harry's shirt. “I look forward to getting to know you more, Harry.”

Zayn smiled smugly at the people who gave him dirty looks. Maybe Harry Styles was going to be his ticket out of this hellhole. He walked into the mansion, casting one more look at Liam over his shoulder, his smile wide showing off his two perfect dimples. Cameras hopefully captured that moment because that would melt the hearts of all the lonely housewives in the entire United Kingdom.

They just had one more contestant to introduce to Liam and then the second unit team was going to take over, letting everyone who was already filming catch some shut eye. Except Louis, he never slept while the cameras were rolling. He usually slept when they went on a location for a date, he delegated his responsibilities to another producer. He had bigger concerns back at the mansion where all the other contestants were, hopefully causing trouble.

Zayn let the last limousine know that they were ready for the final contestant. The night felt like it was going to drag on forever and Zayn was craving nicotine, all the coffee and tea in the world wasn't going to help him. He was also getting tired, standing on your feet all day did that to a person. Sleeping in his car obviously didn't help the situation. He must've zoned out, daydreaming of somewhere other than his current location, because Niall was ushering Liam into the mansion and Louis was calling cut.

“Second unit, places,” Louis spoke into his walkie talkie. Almost immediately people began milling about, taking over where the first team left off. “You all know what I want from tonight. Tears, gripping television. Maybe concoct a fight or two, classy stuff.”

Zayn unhooked his walkie talkie from his pants and looked around for his replacement to hand it off to. Everyone else that worked all night were already heading to off to their cars to head back to wherever they were staying for the next several weeks. “Lou? Where's my replacement?”

“Malik,” Louis let out a laugh, approaching Zayn to throw an arm over his shoulders. “You don't get a replacement this year, love. You're stuck here all day, with me.”

“Lou,” he groaned, feeling himself being directed towards the production trailers. He knew the plan. After a day of filming Louis sat in the trailer for the rest of the day watching what they had filmed earlier and concocting the storyline for each episode. “Can I least have a smoke before we dive in?”

Louis narrowed his eyes at Zayn, raising an eyebrow in questioning. He gulped down the rest of his tea and discarded it in a nearby trash can. “Fine. Make it quick, Malik. Smoke so fast that you're dizzy walking back here. Got it?”

“Got it,” he confirmed, heading towards the end of the mansion, towards the front gate. The sun was still rising, now it was close to six in the morning.

He leaned up against the brick wall that was lined up against the gate. It looked like it use to be a running security booth, when this home was occupied. Zayn reached into his back pocket and pulled at his crushed cigarette pack, grinning as he did so. He lit one of his last cigarettes left in the pack and exhaled, feeling the nicotine burning his throat and lungs instantly. Louis wasn't wrong in saying it'll make him dizzy. Going a long time without one had an obvious effect on him.

For a brief moment he closed his eyes and rested his head against the brick, hoping to maybe get a few seconds of sleep before his second shift started. He kept smoking, even with his eyes closed. The dizzy feeling slowly lulling him into a slumber. That was until his silence was interrupted by a rustling noise and whispered voices. How cliché.   

“Yeah, they should be leaving soon. So, pass by my place in about an hour and I'll be available.”

Zayn let out a low groan as he recognized the voice. It was Liam. He had somehow snuck out the home unnoticed and was now standing at the front gate. He opened his eyes and saw Liam standing against the opposite wall talking to someone who looked like one of the limousine drivers.

“I don't know,” the driver replied shyly, clearly batting his eyelashes like it was endearing. Gross.

“There's no cameras where I'm staying. No one will see you,” Liam tried to convince him, grabbing tightly at the other guys hip. “Come on. It'll be our little secret.”

Zayn would be the first one to tell you how much he hated his job, it had gotten to the point where he was only working for a paycheck every week. He had become numb to everything around him, the roses the suitors handed out to the contestants, the constants overabundant amount of just sappy, cheesy, and cliché love tropes the show thrusted into people's faces. It all got to be too much as the years went on.

The one thing that did bother him though was when someone was clearly not cooperating with the process of the show. It just made the storylines fake, well, faker than they already were. Clearly, Liam was not on board with the process, which struck Zayn as funny. He began to laugh to himself, mostly because the sight in front of him was pretty hysterical and because he was also getting a little loopy from lack of sleep. If anyone this season was going to piss off Louis Tomlinson by not fully cooperating it wasn't going to be rich boy Liam Payne, that's for shit sure.

The limousine driver looked a little hesitant, it was clear to Zayn that he was just loving the attention from Liam, though. “I need to be back at the depot by half ten.”

Liam checked his watch and smiled one of those forced smiles. “That gives us more than enough time, babe.”

“Okay, Romeo,” Zayn finally cut in. He discarded his useless cigarette, snuffing it out with the heel of his shoe. “Stop fraternizing with the help, yeah? You have twenty five eligible men inside waiting for you, not to mention the production crew waiting as well.”

“And who the hell are you?” Liam snapped, dropping his hand from the driver's hip and sizing Zayn up. It was clear he had the advantage height and size wise. Zayn always knew from an early age a lot of people were going to underestimate him, that's why he learned to box.

“Your worst nightmare,” he replied, internally groaning at the laughable response. He rolled his eyes at Liam's scoff and turned to the limousine driver. “I'd advise you to leave and never speak of this if you want to keep being employed. Got it?”

The limousine driver didn't even say anything, just took one quick look between Zayn and Liam, noticed they were standing taller and prouder than moments before. He shot Liam an apologetic smile before taking off towards his car and pulling out of the driveway without saying a single word.

“That was bullshit,” Liam spat in Zayn's face. He took a step closer, his nose almost touching Zayn's. “How dare you interfere with my personal business.”

“How dare I?” He laughed, this was getting to be too comical actually. “Babe, your personal business is now my business, the country's too. You wanted to be here, remember? We did not seek you out.”

Liam kept sizing Zayn up, looking him up and down, deciding his next action. He let out a sigh and finally took a step back. “Fine. You win this one, for now.”

“Oh I’m terrified,” he replied sarcastically, grabbing Liam’s wrist to literally drag him back up to the mansion. “Your public awaits you, your highness.”

Zayn grumbled and muttered under his breath the entire time he dragged Liam up the driveway and back to the mansion. He passed him back to an assistant who looked embarrassed that she had lost the one person she was responsible of watching. Shaking his head and not saying another word Zayn walked back to the production trailer he left Louis in earlier. He watched in silence for a while. Watched Louis work meticulously, kind of like an artist in front of a canvas. Everything that was filmed that day on giant monitors in front of him, a huge spiral notebook sprawled out on the keyboard. A pencil in his mouth and one behind his ear, his brows more than likely drawn together in concentration.

Louis was always so loud and in your face, brash. But this Louis was the one Zayn liked the most, the silent side of him not many people got to see. This was the Louis Zayn became friends with all those years ago. The two of them squished into a production truck looking over films, cutting and pasting a storyline to sell, hoping that this series would be the one that put them on the map and get them to the position they were in now. He watched a little while longer in silence as Louis spoke quietly to himself, commenting on what he was watching. Already fed up with the work even though he'd only been at it for a few minutes.

“Having trouble?” Zayn made his presence known, walking over to Louis and taking a seat beside him.

“Payne is a wanker,” he concluded, ripping a piece of paper out of his notebook and handing it to Zayn along with the pencil that once rested on his ear. “He looks bored in every shot we have of him.”

“Shocking,” he replied sarcastically. “Just saw him down the road trying to sleep with a limousine driver.”

“Great,” Louis groaned and fast forward the film a few minutes until he landed on the footage of Harry's arrival. “This is the first genuine emotion we get from him all night. Your boy might win, Malik.”

“He better,” he joked and jotted down notes on his paper. Notes about ways to ensure Harry won Liam's heart, storylines that might help him in the long run. Ways to help coax the country in loving Harry as well. “Unless Payne mucks it all up.”

“I bet you five quid he'll end up alone and ruin this entire series,” Louis laughed, leaning back on his chair, placing his clasped hands behind his head and looking over at Zayn. He was smiling his mischievous smile, lips curled up and white teeth showing. “Which then makes this entire series well worth it, actually.”

Zayn looked up at the monitors and studied Liam's face. He looked bored from the moment Louis called for the cameras to start rolling. He understood the blokes pain, the ridiculousness of it all. But on the other hand Liam had asked for this, asked to be the newest suitor. He studied how Liam's face lit up at the sight of Harry, how Liam Payne looked like a decent human being for once in his miserable life. “Deal. Liam's walking out of here in eight weeks engaged.”

The night kept rolling on, much to Zayn's dismay. The sun was already shining bright in the sky by the time the second unit called cut for the day. The twenty five contestants got well acquainted with Liam, most of them already feeling disdain towards Harry and his rose. Now that filming was over until mid afternoon the set was quiet.

This was the only time on set Zayn truly enjoyed, watching the controlled chaos from the night before become peaceful. He stepped out of the production trailer once Louis allowed him to leave and had to shield his eyes from the bright sun. All the production people were heading to their cars to crash at their hotels until they were needed again. The strategically placed cameras around the mansion and grounds would capture whatever they missed. Nothing went unnoticed on this show.

Zayn continued to drag to feet down the road and towards where he parked his car a few blocks away. He lit a cigarette on his journey back, trying to stretch out his back before he had to cram himself in the backseat. It was a truly glamorous life. Everyone got a hotel, Louis and Niall being accommodated with a luxury flat for the both of them, while Zayn slept in a car. The network didn't trust him in something fancy so they forwent splurging on something decent for Zayn. It was up to him to find a place for live for the next eight weeks. So, he was staying in his car. It was uncomfortable but also free. The money he would save could go to something useful like booze or cigarettes, maybe even clean clothes.

The endless tossing and turning that night kept Zayn awake a majority of the time. Even though he was exhausted he just couldn't sleep. He swore he heard his phone go off at least five times when it actually remained quiet. Everything was quiet around him actually. Like the day before, he woke up and tried to look for whatever clean clothes he had, smelling them before throwing them on. He used what little cologne he had to cover up whatever smell he or his clothes may give off, using mouthwash again instead of brushing his teeth. Also like the day before he stopped and got himself and Louis cups of tea. It was an endless cycle.

The chaos of the set was more controlled, people falling into place with the new series. Luckily today wasn't going to be as long as the day before. Today's filming was going to consist of mostly the mansion and the contestants getting to know Liam before the first elimination ceremony later that night.

He greeted Louis with a smile and handed him the tea before being whisked away into the production trailer, looking at the footage that he had pieced together the night before. Everything was looking good, making Zayn somewhat optimistic for the weeks ahead. Louis was a genius at what he did, even though it pained Zayn to admit that, especially out loud. It was clear from the raw footage how this series would play out. Louis had set up the characters perfectly, crafting his villains and heroes just from one night of filming.

“I need you to do intro interviews today,” Louis told him casually, toying with the buttons on his computer.

“No,” Zayn quickly shot him down. “We have low ranking producers for that.”

Louis sighed and swiveled in his chair, facing Zayn. “Do you not remember that you're on probation? You may be a high ranking producer here but that doesn't mean you can't be a team player.”

“Lou-”

“Not my call, mate,” he gently reminded him, raising his hands in surrender. “It's the network and their bosses. They want to make sure you're still willing to work hard.”

“How are intro interviews a sign of working hard?” He asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity. He was going to have a good laugh at Louis trying to explain this one.

“Bro, I don't know,” he answered with a shrug. “We've all got orders and those are mine. Making sure this season goes off without a hitch and keeping you in line.”

“Like I'm a bloody child,” Zayn muttered under his breath and stood up from his chair. He reached for another notepad and clipboard. “Who's on my team?”

“You've got Dana on camera and Marcus is your assistant,” Louis rattled off. “Now go and make good television.”

Zayn grumbled at Louis’ cheeky smile as he left the trailer. Introduction interviews. What a waste of time. It was done every series, but always left for the new producers on the show. If this was how the network was going to treat him, Zayn was going to comply. He was going to hate every single second of it but he was going to do it. He passed the craft service table and grabbed a packet of barbecue crisps before making his way to where he saw Dana setting up her camera by the edge of the garden, next to the outdoor hot tub. How romantic. The lights and microphones were already set up, just now waiting for Zayn to take his seat while Marcus ran around like a chicken with a missing head trying to wrangle up whatever contestant Zayn was supposed to interview.

He skimmed his clipboard, a list of everyone he was going to be speaking to that day and in what order. Luckily it wasn't all twenty five guys, and another small miracle was that his interviews were ending with Harry. This was an excellent way to manipulate the situation, getting everyone on Harry's side and falling in love with him just like Liam was going to.

Zayn learned quickly that a majority of the guys were in over their own head with joining the show. None of them admitted to watching the show before hand so they had no idea what they got themselves into. It was all blind optimism on their part. Everyone was excited to get to know Liam and hopefully find true love along the way. Gag. The mundane conversations with the first four contestants reminded Zayn why he started drinking in the first place. Thank god for Chad.

Chad was the contestant Louis chose to win the entire show. Chad was twenty two from Liverpool, just finished his studies at uni, graduating with a degree in early education. He wanted to be a special education teacher. Something to pull at the heartstrings of the country, nice job lad. Chad was the perfect example of someone who peaked too early in life but was still striving to get back to who he once was. He just kept rambling on and on about his gym routine and his protein powder, without Zayn even asking a single question. He just looked into the camera and kept talking.

Dana and Marcus looked over at Zayn and rolled their eyes, he understood completely. No wonder why Louis liked this guy, he was going to be this series villain, everyone was going to love to hate him. If he didn't win Liam's heart he was going to be next series suitor, no doubt about it.

Things started to turn interesting when Zayn finally got a word in edgewise, finally asking Chad about Liam. Chad smiled widely at the camera and began to talk on and on about Liam and his money. Jackpot. Gold digger. It was obvious that he couldn't care less about Liam as a person, just saw dollar signs when he looked at the bloke. He just kept going on and on about Liam and Payne enterprises, his father's company. Probably spoke all about it in one breath, impressive.

When Zayn finally got to speak again he asked Chad if he was excited about the potential to fall in love with Liam. Chad shrugged his shoulders, unsure but complied and said yes. It was clear to Zayn that this guy was clearly here for all the wrong reasons. You're welcome England.

Thank god for Harry. After Zayn wrapped up his interview with Chad he knew Harry was next to speak to. They took a five minute break to ease their now hurting heads before Marcus scurried off to get Harry. It was a small blessing talking to Harry. He greeted everyone with respect and a firm handshake along with his blinding smile. Zayn knew how to work this interview perfectly, despite the fact that he despised doing the actual interviewing. The interview started with the standard questions, asking Harry about his life, how he grew up and whatnot. Zayn wrote furiously as Harry answered, even though he spoke slow and in circles sometimes. Harry had a pretty standard life growing up, his parents divorced when he was young but they still remained friends and respected each other. He had an older sister that he hailed as is best friend and his idol, alongside David Bowie and Mick Jagger.

Nothing was setting Harry apart from all the other lads. Zayn was trying, or at least he seemed like he was trying. Half of him wanted to go back to his car and sleep until he had a paycheck in his bank but he sadly knew that the only way he was going to get paid was if he actually did some work. Whatever. Zayn zoned out when Harry started to talk about the sweet old ladies that worked with him in the bakery back in Cheshire. How wholesome. Yawn. There had to be something, anything that set Harry apart. Something that Zayn could use to his advantage.

“How did you really feel when you found out this year's suitor was the infamous Liam Payne?” Marcus asked.

Zayn cut his eyes over at his assistant, trying to quickly figure out who allowed him to speak. That's right. No one did. Why did he get the idea that he was allowed to add his two cents? Rookies.

“Honestly?” Harry hesitantly asked, looking past the camera and directly at Zayn. He had a skewed smile on his face and his posture got tense right before their eyes. A very different version than the Harry they met only a day ago.

“This is a safe and honest place, Harry,” Zayn assured him, trying not to choke on his words. What a crock of shit. If it got the kid to open up and make good television, Zayn was going to tell him anything he wanted to hear.

Harry gave them a quick, reassuring nod before visibly swallowing, shaking his hair away from his face. He kept fidgeting in his seat, clearly anxious. He let out an audible exhale, nodding once more. “I don't like to judge people based on preconceived notions, especially based on things that get written in The Sun. But you can't hide from the constant noise that is Liam Payne.”

“So you've heard of him before?” Zayn laughed. This was better than what he expected to get out of Harry. Ideas were already brewing in his head, Louis was going to kiss the ground he walked on after this interview.

“You have to live under a rock not to have heard of him,” he guffawed. “I didn't sign up for this show to be someone's babysitter or therapist. I came here for love and a potential husband.”

“How did you really feel after you stepped out of the limo?” Zayn continued to prompt him. In Zayn's short time around Harry he realized once you got him to open up, he never stopped. He'd talk your ear off, which always made for good television.

“He's fit,” he began, laughing at himself as he spoke. “That's a given. I was umm, I was definitely apprehensive at first. Nervous of course. What was I going to say and all that. Even thought about getting back in the car and heading back to the airport, honestly.”

“What changed? Why did you stick around and accept the rose?” Zayn looked around briefly, Dana had zoomed in, making sure the camera read Harry's face perfectly. Marcus was standing off to the side, hanging on to every word that fell out Harry's mouth. This couldn't have gone any better for Zayn.

“He laughed,” he replied, shrugging. “My stupid, corny joke got an honest to God laugh out of Liam Payne. Usually I get an eye roll or a pity chuckle, I'm use to that. But an honest laugh from probably the most hated celebrity in the U.K. is not something you expect everyday.”

“And now?”

“Now I want to get to know him,” Harry continued, a blush creeping up on his cheeks. It was endearing, if you were into that sort of crap. Zayn wasn't, but millions of lonely housewives definitely were into that sort of thing. “I still want to find love, I'm an optimist like that. I'm really looking forward to getting to know Liam and see where it goes. I'll still be guarded, everyone would be in my situation. But I-I'll be ready for what's to come.”

Harry said his goodbyes and shook everyone's hand before scurrying back towards the mansion. Marcus and Dana cleaned up the set while Zayn relished in the moment of silence he finally got, another opportunity to sneak off set to have a cigarette break. Like the night before he walked toward the front gate and leaned up against the brick wall. The day had just begun and he was ready to pack it up and call it a day. Last night lasted forever but today was the first elimination, they were going to say goodbye to five contestants. At least Harry was safe, everyone else was going to have to run around pleading their case before Liam made his final decision. Louis usually threatened the suitors livelihood to get his way, but they listened to him anyway. It was the calm before the inevitable storm.

Zayn tried to rest his eyes and just enjoy his alone time before inevitably going back to the production truck and helping Louis construct more of a cohesive storyline. It's was obvious from today's filming that Chad was going to be the villain and Harry was going to be the guy everyone rooted for. It boasted well for Zayn, he already had the money he was going to get spent. Maybe find a place to live, pay back Adam, and lastly go on a drinking binge to celebrate all the money he had just won. Priorities. He inhaled another drag of his cigarette as his walkie talkie started to make a static like noise. He couldn't hear what was being said but Zayn knew it was Louis more than likely looking for him. Dana probably handed over the footage and Marcus was probably just standing behind Louis looking like the lost puppy he was. Pathetic.

He dragged himself back up the graveled path, his mouth tasting stale from inhaling his cigarette so quickly. Made him feel dizzy, a feeling Zayn more than welcomed. The craft service table was restocked so he grabbed a pack of barbecue crisps, breakfast of champions. Or was it lunch? Who knew and who cares honestly. Today was going to run just as long as the day before so whatever sustenance Zayn could get he was going to take.

He walked up the stairs of the production trailer and saw Louis sitting in front of the row of monitors. Empty paper cups that held his tea were scattered all around him. If Zayn looked closely he could see a rolled joint tucked behind his ear. So it was that kind of morning. Stressful. Louis rarely smoked, usually only during the final rose ceremony when everything around them was coming to a crashing end. Already contemplating smoking on day two? It was going to be a long next couple of weeks for all of them. He continued his walk up to his friend, noticing his notepad was filled with nonsense writings, none of really looked like it made much sense.

“Already thinking about smoking?” Zayn asked, pulling out the metal seat and sitting down next to Louis.

Louis jumped a little at the voice, shaking his head. “Confiscated it from Mia, caught her rolling it outside the makeup trailer. Amateur.”

“Now you're hall monitor,” he laughed, flipping through the pages of Louis's book. Still none of it looked like it made much sense. Just names and dates and times scribbled in his illegible handwriting. Typical Louis.

“Someone has to be,” he joked. “So I see the interviews went well. Chad doing Chad things. Styles being a good Boy Scout.”

“He's gonna win Lou, just you wait,” Zayn teased, eyes scanning the monitors in front of him. Watching the live footage of what was happening in the mansion. Nothing exciting. Some of the lads breaking off into smaller groups, patiently waiting for elimination later that night. “Who's leaving us tonight?”

“No idea,” Louis scoffed with a shrug. “Payne doesn't want to leave his guest house to interact with anyone and no one can get in and talk to him about tonight.”

“Why do we pay Maxine?” He asked. “Some personal assistant she is. Can't keep one measly client in line.”

“She'll be fired by weeks end,” Louis wagered. “Mark my words, Malik.”

Zayn spun in his seat, trying to do anything to occupy his mind. That was one major downfall of production, all the mindless downtime they had. When they were filming or even doing interviews, time seemed to fly by. When there was nothing to do, there literally was nothing to do. You just hoped and prayed something exciting was happening in the house that would hopefully occupy your time for a few minutes.

That's what got Zayn in trouble during the last series. All the downtime and the copious amounts of alcohol around the set. It was a slippery slope that never led anywhere good. Low ranking assistants or producers always had a reason to party, it was the first job for most of them. The rest of them drank just to pass the time. Days blurred into night and before long eight weeks had passed and the production was over. Zayn was always busy last series but he never was one to turn down a free drink. The winters in the U.K. were brutal and alcohol was always a quick way to warm him up.

He spun in his chair once more and played with the fringe by Louis eye, doing anything to distract his friend from his job. Louis took this way too seriously for someone who always scoffed at his job. He was the first one to claim he didn't need this job but was always the most diligent at doing it. It made absolutely no sense. Louis absentmindedly swatted his hand away, not looking away from his work. He was use to Zayn and his nervous hands, always having to fiddle with something to occupy his thoughts. His thoughts that usually got him in trouble, hence the series finale last year.

Zayn was tempted to steal the blunt behind Louis's ear and smoke it to calm himself down. They had plenty of munchies around set to satisfy his eventual hunger as well. Smoking alone wasn't fun though, no one to laugh with when something mundane became hysterical. Pointing and laughing at interns who worked too hard for next to no pay was pretty fun once you were high. None of them were that funny sober and especially when you were alone. Zayn just kept spinning in his chair, glancing at the monitors with every turn.

The tension was escalating due to the elimination that night. People who scampering off, searching for Liam to plead their case. Too bad Liam was nowhere to be found, well, except to the production crew. He was sleeping soundly in his flat down the road. It was still early in the production phase and Liam was turning out to be the most difficult suitor they would ever have. Why be here if you didn't want to participate in the process? Did he not realize how hard it was to make a television show when the star refused to cooperate? Zayn almost felt sorry for Liam’s person assistant, she was sitting around doing nothing as well. Her job was to keep Liam in check, make sure he was on set when he was supposed to, participating on dates, acting like he was actually interested in the whole process. Right now she was sitting on the couch in Liam’s little house, on her phone, looking just as bored as Zayn currently felt. At least somebody could commiserate with him.

After what felt like endless time passing, Liam woke up and emerged from his home. Elimination was in less than two hours and it was about time he started to mingle with the contestants. Niall arrived on set and had his obligatory conversation with Liam in front of the cameras. Asking him how he was feeling and if he was still making any final minute decisions. He just shrugged his shoulders, a clear sign that he couldn't care less about what was going on around him. Figures. Niall escorted Liam into the mansion that held the contestants and it was clear he was way out of his element, immediately going tense and looking around for some sort of help. It was Liam's first time in a room with all twenty five men vying for his time and heart. It was bound to be overwhelming but as Zayn watched the monitors he had to laugh, he signed up for this. What was he really expecting? Liam's misery aside, Zayn's task was to watch for any behind the scenes drama. Louis was watching the monitors as well, barking orders into his walkie talkie to anyone who would listen.

Outside the trailer Zayn could hear people running around, sounding a little panicked and out of breath. Elimination night was a stressful day for everyone, there were a lot of little details that needed to be ironed out quickly and efficiently. The main room in the mansion still needed to be vacuumed, the pictures of all the contestants for Liam to sulk and look at before he made his final decision wasn't complete either. And if Zayn listened closely to the noise outside, the florist that was supposed to deliver all the roses Liam would be handing out was stuck in traffic. So everything was going exactly according to plan.

Liam was slowly starting to mingle with the contestants, oddly making sure Harry was never far from him. Harry, the only one who didn't have to worry about his fate. That was good for Zayn though, made his job that much easier. Chad tried to weasel his way into almost every conversation Liam had the courage to have. He wanted to make sure his presence was known. It was as if he knew he was destined to become the villain this series. Oh well. Louis stood up from where he still sat next to Zayn and sighed, rubbing at his temples with a pinched looked on his face. Yep, it was elimination night. He took the blunt from behind his ear and inhaled its scent, taking a deeper breath than Zayn would've recommended. Louis put the blunt back behind his ear and patted at his pants pockets, searching for something clearly.

“Got your light?” Louis asked looking down at him.

Zayn's eyebrows shot up, curious. “Why?”

“Get the fuck over yourself, Malik,” he spat out. “I need to smoke and you're the only one I know that's a damn chimney around here. So, you got your light or no?”

“Of course,” he answered and stood up as well, pulling his lighter from his back pocket. “Aren't we supposed to be working?”

“The show’s already fucked, can't get much worse in the time we're gone,” Louis explained with a pained laugh. That once sentence made everything painfully obvious for Zayn. Louis was stressed more than he had ever been, it wasn't just first elimination stress. It was career stress.

“The front gate is the best place to umm to smoke,” Zayn pointed out as both men made their way out the production trailer. “That's where I go to smoke anyway.”

Zayn Malik wasn't afraid to admit he was in love with Louis Tomlinson. Okay, maybe he was and maybe it was the weed talking for him. Was he talking? Or was his inner monologue just running rampant as usual. He just shrugged his shoulders and inhaled deeply, feeling the smoke burn down his throat and into his lungs. It was a good feeling, a welcomed feeling. Louis was a trip when he was baked, giggling behind his hand, blue eyes bright but glassy. If they weren't coworkers Zayn could definitely see them as friends outside the chaos of the show. Yeah, it was definitely the weed talking for him. Zayn didn't need friends, didn't need to bring anyone into his already messed up world. He was damaged goods, been told that most his life. Now he was just living up to his potential. The air around them was getting thick and had a stickiness attached to it. As Zayn passed the blunt back over to Louis he realized he was going to need a shower soon. How he was going to make that happen was something he needed to think about. Obviously his car didn't come with one and there were too many cameras in the contestants mansion to sneak one in unnoticed. He couldn't ask Niall or Louis because that'll be an obvious dead giveaway. Zayn just guessed that'll be another thing to add to his growing list of problems. Wasn't weed supposed to calm you down not heighten one's anxiety? Zayn made a mental note to find Mia and scold her on supplying sloppy weed.

By the time they made their way back to the production truck the buzzing on Louis's walkie talkie finally subsided, hopefully meaning whatever was wrong finally got fixed. Zayn spotted a florist truck pulling up behind them as they walked up from the front gate, the corsages had arrived. The cleaning supplies were parked in front of the mansion, the handymen walking directly behind them to put the final touches on the rooms. Everything was so last minute but at least it was finally coming together. It even looked like Liam was actually enjoying himself amongst the contestants, Harry still not far from his side. He was talking and looked genuine to everyone he spoke to. Chad puffed up his chest and tried to looked broader than normal, maybe a little bit too intimidating but Liam seemed to be buying it. Niall was seen in the background just his eyes following Liam around the room, gauging everything that was happening. Soon after Chad weaseled his way into Liam's personal space Harry was quickly forgotten. From where Zayn was sitting he could see Louis shit-eating grin, very proud of his choice this series, obviously. Zayn paid him no mind, just  because Chad was looking good now didn't mean he was receiving a rose tonight. Right on cue Niall pulled Liam aside and into another room for them to discuss all his options and get his thoughts on the gentlemen vying for his heart and affection. He seemed sincere while he spoke to Niall, he was still the worst suitor in the shows entire history but at least he was finally trying.

Like every rose ceremony in the shows history, Louis gathered all the producers who weren't supposed to be on set into the largest production truck they had. Everyone waited with bated breath as Liam entered the main room again and waited for the elimination to begin. Louis quickly barked orders into his walkie talkie, making sure all the camera operators were ready and a low ranking producer was standing by the five limousines that were going to send the sacked contestants away. Everyone in the trailer had a stake in this ceremony, they wanted the guy they chose to stay. The longer the contestant stayed, the more chances they had at collecting money. Zayn wasn't nervous, his boy Harry was safe. Harry stood in the back and smiled widely at Liam, proudly showing off his rose that was still pinned to his jacket. Niall was a professional like always, moving everything along when it was obviously getting stagnant. Elimination was supposed to be dramatic and over the top but it seemed as if no one really got that memo. Luckily Niall knew how to make those moments happen at the drop of a hat. He pulled Liam aside which confused the room, telling him that he didn't have to eliminate just five, if he felt someone else needed to go it was his choice. Everyone back in the production truck knew that never happened, most suitors stuck by the shows rules but it always good to throw a wrench in their plans once in awhile. Make this fresh and interesting, especially for the viewers at home. Liam followed the rules as predicted and eliminated his five guys. The last one to receive a rose was Chad, which spooked Louis for a few tense minutes. Everyone in the production truck just started at him as he looked at the monitor.

“Alright everyone,” Louis called to attention. “I need these exit interviews to be edited and ready for post production by morning. I also need Liam's interview done first thing tomorrow morning. Everyone's dismissed.”

Everyone in the truck gathered their belongings and made their way out the truck with their tasks for the next morning. Zayn knew he wasn't going to be dismissed though, Louis always sticking him with someone mindless to do so he wasn't working alone all night. Zayn just stayed seated watching the monitors as the remaining twenty contestants and Liam cheered each other with an expensive bottle of champagne that really made Zayn feel parched.

“Malik,” Louis voice cut through his thoughts. “You're dismissed too.”

“W-what?” He asked, slowly standing up and very shocked. “What happened to me not getting a second unit replacement for the night shifts?”

Louis shrugged his shoulders. “I don't make the rules bro, I just got to follow the nextworks orders and I got new orders this morning. You're free to go home for the night.”

“Yea,” he nodded in agreement, none of it making sense. All he cared about was the he was free now and now had a new mystery job to start in the morning. Zayn waved to Louis as he gathered his things and made his way out the truck, gearing up for the trek up the hill to where he parked his car.

Another reckless night of sleep left Zayn more cranky than usual. He was running out of clean clothes and cologne, meaning he was going to either need money from Louis soon or somehow sneak into wardrobe and borrow a few things for himself. He used the last of his mouthwash and quickly changed into whatever smelt the cleanest before walking down the hill toward the mansion. All Zayn could think about was his new job that he was supposed to start today. It was an order from the network, which usually meant he was going to hate it. He'd been on his best behavior so far so what punishment was he going to be strapped with now. Zayn checked his phone quickly, luckily he was able to charge it at work so it still was on, and ignored another message from Adam. It was too early in the morning to start with him. Okay, so maybe Zayn had ignored close to thirty messages from his former roommate but he had other priorities at the moment. Work was more important than an useless argument. Zayn walked past the front gate and snuffed out his cigarette on the brick wall before being bombarded with the massive day ahead of him. Today Liam was supposed to take ten of the contestants on their first date, tomorrow the other ten were set to get their turn. No doubt Louis spent all night concocting ideas of where they'd go and who was the lucky ten to go out with Liam first. If Zayn closed his eyes for a minute he could see Louis sitting in his truck writing in his notebook like a madman coming up with perfect ideas and scenarios for the day. It was so bizarre that Louis was so dedicated to a job he hated.

“Just the lad I wanted to see,” Louis greeted him, empty styrofoam teas cups littering his desk. Guess it was another long night of editing and scheming. “Come in Malik, we need to talk.”

Zayn eyes Louis cautiously as he took a seat where he usually sat next to Louis. “Lou, what's up? Why do I feel like I need to be nervous about my job.”

“You still have a job,” he quickly assured him. “Just not as a producer anymore.”

“Lou,” he said his friends name slowly, almost threatening. “What’s my new job?”

“The network feels that you being a producer may be too stressful, especially after last series incident,” he began, speaking calmly, which wasn’t reassuring at all for Zayn. “They want you to be Liam’s personal assistant.”

“No!”

“Zayn-”

“Absolutely not!” Zayn protested again. “I rather be fired than demoted to that shitty position. I can’t-won’t be Liam Payne’s bloody assistant.”

“Bro,” Louis soothly tried to speak to him. Keep the chaos and anger to a minimum. “It’s an easy job and you keep the same pay.”

“Then you do it,” Zayn spat at him. “If it’s so easy, you take the job, leave me as producer.”

“Zayn,” he repeated, his voice still calm. “You know I can’t do that.”

“What happened to Maxine?” Zayn asked, grabbing an empty styrofoam cup and pulling it apart, doing anything to occupy his hands. His blood was boiling and he was in desperate need of a cigarette or a drink. There had to be leftover champagne somewhere on set. “She was doing a fine job yesterday.”

“She let Liam sleep all day yesterday,” Louis scoffed. “He’s supposed to be interacting, pretending he gives a shit about this process and she wasn’t fulfilling her job duties.”

“And I will?” Zayn sneered, grabbing another cup to rip apart. “Lou, come on bro, really?”

“I've got orders to follow too,” he explained. “I wanted my partner in crime by my side all series but I don't make the rules, Malik.”

Zayn let out a sigh, dropping the cup back on the table to harshly scrub at his face. “I've really got to be this blokes assistant?”

“It's only for seven weeks,” Louis tried to lighten the situation.

“Yay,” he replied dryly. Zayn stood up and took the walkie talkie that was being handed to him, turning it on and hearing the static crackle. “Where's the pain in the ass anyway?”

“He just woke up, today is date day,” Louis informed him. “I just need him showered and dressed and in the main room within an hour, can you do that?”

“I think I can get a grown man to follow rules,” Zayn huffed, adjusting the walkie talkie on his belt and making his way out the truck.

Out of all the things Zayn thought Louis was going to say to him, being Liam's assistant wasn't one of them. That was so far from his mind he never he thought of it. Now he was stuck doing the one job he despised the most. He was now a glorified babysitter, wasting his day away making sure a grown man lived up to his end of the bargain. The small upside to it all was now Zayn had access to a shower. Cameras were hardly in Liam's part of the mansion, only the ones in his bedroom and living quarters. Maybe, just maybe, Zayn could sneak in a shower while Liam slept or got dressed. It seemed like a smart idea to Zayn. Right now he had other things to worry about, pretending to give a shit about Liam and making sure he didn't jeopardize the filming of the series once again.

“What do you want?” Liam spat out as soon as Zayn walked into the home. “I'm not hiding any limo drivers in my room.”

“I know,” Zayn told him. “There's cameras in your room, we would've known by now if that was the case.”

“So, what do you want?” He repeated. Liam was just casually lounging on the sofa, today's paper and a fruit platter on the coffee table in front of him. He picked up a strawberry and popped it into his mouth, still staring at Zayn. “Hello. I asked you a question.”

“I'm your-your new assistant,” he finally answered, words getting stuck in his throat, his mouth suddenly dry.

Liam raised his eyebrows in amusement, nodding his head like he was trying to understand this new development. He scratched at his bare stomach and ate another strawberry. “Producing got to be too much for you?”

It took all Zayn had inside of him to not roll his eyes and spit venom at Liam. “You're too much to handle for one little girl it seemed. Needed someone with balls to do the job.”

“Clearly,” he smirked, still raising an eyebrow. “Want some fruit?”

“Excuse me?” Zayn asked, stunned at the sudden change of atmosphere around him. Weren't they just arguing seconds ago?

“Do you want some fruit to eat?” Liam repeated slowly for Zayn to comprehend. “I always get a fruit platter in the morning and can never finish it, Maxine was allergic so I always had to dump the leftovers. You hungry?”

Zayn looked around the room, waiting for someone to pop out of a room or closet and wake him up. What the hell had just happened? Wasn't Liam Payne supposed to be a loathsome rich boy that wasted away daddy's money with no care in the world? “I-I’m good, thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating and reading his paper, sipping at his coffee cup occasionally.

“Actually,” Zayn spoke up. “I know this is gonna sound odd but umm can I use your shower?”

“Yeah, sure,” he told him, never looking up from his paper. “I've gotta hop in myself soon but you're more than welcome to use it now.”

“Thanks,” he told him and made his way towards the bathroom. A part of him was still stunned over Liam's kindness toward him but he was too excited to finally get a shower to even dwell on it for much longer than a minute.

The moment Zayn stepped into the lush bathroom he let out a massive sigh of relief. He'd been concerned over where he was going to find a shower for close to a week now and in one hour that matter had been solved. A little victory that he wasn't going to deny himself. The shower itself was grand and immaculate. It was made entirely of glass and could probably fit his entire family if he tried. The floor was lined with some type of marble. The entire room looked like it belonged in some travel advert he would see in a magazine at a doctors office. He disrobed and turned the water on to as hot as he knew he could handle. He just needed to scrub and burn every inch of his skin off, start fresh somehow. As he stepped into the large shower he looked around and saw all the expensive shit Liam had littering the room. Body washes, shampoos, and conditioners that cost more than Zayn made in his entire life. Lotions that were made from vanilla beans in the middle of South America, random shit if you asked Zayn. Too fancy for his blood. That didn't mean he wasn't going to use them. He put his head under the powerful shower spray and just let the water wash over him, make him lose some of the tension in his shoulders. He finally felt relaxed for the first time in a long time, well, as relaxed as he could feel at that exact moment. It felt good and this was the first time in a long time he allowed himself to feel that way. He kept his eyes closed as the water kept beating down on him.

“Budge over.”

Zayn's eye shot open at the voice. He turned his head at the sound, wiping away the condensation that built up on the glass. “L-Liam!”

“I need to shower as well, so either budge over or get out,” Liam flatly told him.

“I-I just got in here,” Zayn sputtered out, quickly moving his hands to cover himself up, not that Liam could see anything seeing as Zayn’s front  was facing away from him. “Can't you wait?”

“I've got a busy day, ten lads waiting on me today,” he laughed, toeing off his socks and scratching at his bare stomach. He moved around the room, grabbing a towel out of the cupboard and placing it on the edge of the sink, grabbing a toiletry bag and placing it alongside the towel. “You moving or am I joining you?”

Zayn kept standing there, not really knowing what to say at this point. He was rarely speechless but now this was the second time today his words got lost in his throat. He couldn't give up this perfect opportunity at a well needed shower though. “Fine, get in. But I swear to god if you touch me in any way I'll break your fingers.”

“Deal,” Liam agreed with a smirk. “Turn around so I can get naked, no looking Mr. Producer.”

“It's Zayn,” he told him and turned back around, letting the water beat down on him again, trying to enjoy the final moments alone in the shower.

The door opened letting a rush of cold air enter the hot stall momentarily. Liam stood behind Zayn, making sure there was a respectable distance between them. “What?”

“My name is Zayn,” he introduced himself, moving his head so it was no longer under the rush of water. “Kind of feels appropriate to introduce myself to you now.”

“Sure,” Liam shrugged off his introduction. “You gonna hog all the water or do I have to physically move you?”

“Y-yeah, sorry,” he sheepishly apologized not really knowing how to maneuver around. He still needed to finish his shower but he didn't want hog up all the hot water and cause another meaningless argument with Liam. “I’ll just move and you can do whatever you needed to do.”

“Unless you had other plans in here besides showering,” Liam cheekily replied, smirking. He turned his head so he was looking directly at Zayn as he spoke.

Zayn's mouth hung open at Liam's reply, water falling down his face and easily into his mouth. Once again he was at a loss for words. There was the despicable Liam Payne he was waiting for, the one with the horrible reputation and even worse attitude. “Let's just fucking shower, okay mate.”

“Fine by me,” Liam said.

Zayn had experienced many awkward moments in his life, that was just apart of everyone's life it seemed. Coming out to his parents and older sister when he was fifteen was pretty awkward, especially when they clearly already knew, finding gay porn on his computer months before. The coming out wasn't awkward it was the fact that he kept remembering that his parents knew he watched porn. So every time Zayn wanted to watch porn he was constantly reminded that his parents knew what he was doing. As soon as the video began the awkwardness quickly disappeared. Another awkward moment was his first day at university. He confidently walked into his lecture, taking a seat in the middle row and pulled out his laptop, ready to conquer higher education. That was until halfway through the class he realized he was in the wrong room. He was supposed to be in a communication class but somehow ended up in business management. How he didn't realize he was in the wrong class was beyond him. He didn't want to feel like a complete ass so Zayn continued to sit through the class, even took notes and answered questions when he was called on. Fake it until he made it. That was a motto that stuck with him his entire life. Now sharing a shower with Liam Payne had to be the most awkward moment of his professional career. He had showered with other men before, but that was always intimate, this was the complete opposite. Every time their elbows or toes would accidentally brush up against each other one of them would jump in shock. They did quickly find a rhythm, thankfully, Zayn washed his body while Liam lathered up and they would switch so Zayn could shampoo his hair. The one main rule was eyes remained up and no one looked or touched anything. It was awkward and effective.

“Get dressed in your room and I'll finish in here. Meet me outside in twenty,” Zayn barked out the order. He had gotten out the shower first, walking fast to the cupboard to retrieve a towel for himself that he immediately put around his waist.

“Yes sir,” Liam laughed as he walked out the shower and towards his stuff. The little shit purposely walked around the room without a towel on or anything to cover himself up. Zayn was trying to not be a creep during the shower, keeping his eyes up and away from seeing anything. Now it was kind of hard, in more ways than one. “Liking the free show?”

“W-what? No, gross. Don't be such a dick Payne,” Zayn spat out, hating the he clearly got caught. He felt a blush creeping up his back and cheeks so he turned his head and collected his clothes off the closed toilet seat lid. “Ten minutes, outside.”

Zayn let out a small sigh of relief once Liam exited the room. The last fifteen minutes had been an absolute mess. Showering with someone who was now technically your boss was not a good way to make a first impression, no matter how badly Zayn hated his job. He needed this job because it was attached to a lot of money that'll help him out of his current mess. He had to brush those thoughts aside as he got dressed, fixing his walkie talkie and turning it back on. He immediately heard Louis barking at the producers who were already en route to the location of today's date. He checked his reflection quickly one last time in the mirror before leaving the room and waiting for Liam in the foyer.

Liam emerged from his room moments later looking as ready as he'll ever be for the day ahead of him. As the two of them made their way to the main house Zayn rattled off the details of the day. Liam was to go on his first group date with ten of the contestants, the date was a tour of ancient castles in Wales. Boring, but the location of the date was the least of everyone's problems. The production crew, especially Louis, just hoped Liam would finally start to cooperate with the whole process. It was now Zayn's job to make sure Liam cooperated, just yesterday he was laughing at Maxine's agony. She was literally running around looking for Liam and when she did find him she was dragging her feet behind him. Now Zayn was responsible for this grown man, a grown man that acted like an overgrown child, but a grown man nonetheless.

The tour of the castles were extremely boring. Some of the contestants seemed like they were actually enjoying themselves. Louis being the perfect mastermind had put both Chad and Harry in the same group. Chad was following Liam around like a lost puppy, but also trying to play cool. Harry was amazed by everything the guide said, talking to some of the other men and pointing out things that had been mentioned to them. He was probably the only one who was fully invested in the tour and Liam. The other contestants tried to strike up a conversation with Liam who looked unimpressed by everything around him. As much as he hated to admit it, Zayn felt the same. Everything around them was old and dusty, absolutely boring. Zayn just hoped this whole day could wrap by sooner, they had at least another hour or two and at least three more castles to visit. If he was alone on holiday this whole day would actually be fun but seeing it was for work, it was the most mundane thing he had ever done in his life.

A large part of Zayn wished he was back at production making fun of everything going on, like he and Louis had done every series. During dates was when he finally got some downtime, was able to relax and let other people do their jobs for once. That's what got him in trouble last year, all the downtime was when he'd search the mansion looking for alcohol. Now he was forced to work even when his brain was yelling at him to find something to numb himself. At least with Harry here Zayn was able to play this to his advantage. If he was now forced to be at Liam's beck and call he was going to use it to get himself handsomely rewarded.

“Liam,” Zayn called to him, trying to be discreet as they waited for their car to arrive to take them to the next location.

Liam was chatting with one of the contestants, Richie, who looked like he was hanging on Liam's every word. What a tosser. It was good for the show but not for Zayn's selfishness.

“Liam,” he called to him once more, clenching his jaw as he spoke to him. This was so embarrassing. He was willingly swallowing his pride and purposely talking to the guy, the least he could do was acknowledge him. What an asshole. “Payne!”

“Oh sorry,” he apologized, flashing Richie a quick smile in dismissal before walking towards Zayn. “Am I doing something wrong Mr. Producer?”

“I need you to talk to Harry,” Zayn instructed him, ignoring the not so cute nickname. He kicked a pebble that was by his boot, trying to get over the fact that he had to grovel at Liam's feet. Like his life wasn't a disaster already. “Interact with him. He's being patient waiting for you and you're off talking to everyone else.”

Liam turned his head and caught a quick glimpse of Harry who was standing by the castle's entrance talking to a few of the other contestants. He looked semi normal today, no over the top clothes or boots. His long hair was pushed out of his eyes and tied on top of his head. He was smiling wide and laughing at someone's jokes, dimples on full display. “I thought you weren't producing anymore?”

“I'm just looking out for the entire show,” he replied, trying his hardest to sound convincing. The show was the least of his worries but Liam could at least pretend he cared, especially towards Harry who he did give his first impression rose to just a few nights ago. “Each guy here if vying for your attention, you can't just talk to some and ignore the others.”

“Listen to me Zayn,” he began, stepping forward so he was almost nose to nose with Zayn, “this whole thing is happening on my terms. Got it? Without me you don't have a damn show so I do whatever I damn well please. Yeah?”

“There he is,” Zayn laughed with a shake of his head. He was not ever going to be intimidated by Liam Payne. “The pompous asshole that hides behind the bright smile and giggly laugh. Show that to the cameras, the entire country knows that guy already.”

Liam took a step back, not backing down but knowing when and where to pick his battles. “You know nothing about me, lackey. Be a good assistant and fetch me coffee, got it?”

Zayn had to take a deep breath and internally count to ten to calm himself. It was his first day on the job and punching Liam square in the jaw was more than likely frowned upon. It seemed like a good solution but probably not that effective. He clenched and unclenched his right hand, feeling it shake with the amount of tension he was holding. “Milk or sugar?”

“Black,” Liam smugly answered. “Grab one for Harry as well, okay? Thanks.”

For the rest of the date Zayn was seething, he knew that nice Liam wasn't going to last, that it was mostly for show. He was such a wanker it was even hard to fathom how he got through life without someone knocking him on his arse every single day. Pompous rich boy probably had daddy clean up all his messes. Not this time. Now he was stuck groveling to the country on national television by trying to prove he could he loved by complete strangers. Even seeing Liam be semi decent towards Harry wasn't enough to have Zayn feel better. He was stuck with this jerk for the next seven weeks, one of them was going to end up cracking and Zayn knew it wasn't going to be him. Something was going to have to change before all this was over. For now though Zayn had to plaster on his best fake smile that he learned to put on while working and muster up enough strength to get through the rest of the day. Tomorrow he had to do the same thing, different date but same scenario.

The car ride back to the mansion was tense and quiet, all the contestants crammed into a van while Liam and Zayn shared a car. Liam just scrolled through his phone, trying to occupy his time. Zayn decide to do the same, even when he knew his only messages came from Adam, which he was still ignoring. He did get a semi encouraging message from Louis at the beginning of the day, telling him to not let Liam get to him. He wasn't, he refused. It wasn't going to be easy to ignore someone he was stuck with by he'll learn to deal with it. He just had to keep looking at Liam as a paycheck like he always did with this job. He wasn't here to make friends or play nice, just show up, do his job and get paid. Simple as that.

Leaving the mansion at the end of the day was probably Zayn's highlight of the day. Turning around once he got down the hill and not seeing the massive home anymore made him crack a tiny smile. It felt like a massive weight was lifted off his shoulders. Even though he was doomed to have another night of restless sleep he was more than glad to leave for the day. He had to make sure Liam's alarm was set and we was back in his room before he was allowed to take off for the night. He unclipped his walkie talkie from his jeans and handed it to Louis with a strained looked on his face. It took almost all of Louis strength to not laugh in his face, that was obvious. He just had to grin and bare it, the network was obviously testing him and he refused to lose. Zayn refused to succumb to the added pressure he was getting. They wanted to see if he was going to crack, well, he wasn't. He'd been through enough in his life to not let one person or one show take him down. They had to work harder than they were if they expected Zayn Malik to buckle under the pressure.

Surprisingly sleep came easy that night, all the events of the day finally taking its toll on his body. He slept straight through until his alarm was blaring at five in the morning. Date days always started early, too early in Zayn's honest opinion. He dragged himself out of the car and changed into whatever he could toss together. Zayn tossed all his dirty clothes into his knapsack and dragged it with him to the mansion. Liam was set to wake up until seven, giving Zayn more than enough time to maybe do some laundry while the prince slept.

He stopped at the local coffee cart and got himself and Louis their daily tea. Without words being exchanged he handed Louis his tea and took his walkie talkie. It was way too early for anyone to be functioning. Zayn did catch a quick glimpse of what Louis was working on, he was piecing together the video from yesterday's activities. Liam trying to look cozy and comfortable around Harry and even Chad. Louis was a master at his job if he could briefly convince Zayn that Liam was maybe interested in the lads.

When Zayn entered Liam's apartment he noticed that nothing was out of place, meaning Liam stayed put after he left. Small miracle. Zayn dropped his knapsack by the laundry room door before heading to the kitchen. The production staff made sure everything was fully stocked at all time, anything Liam may need, they had ready for him. If Zayn was forced to play babysitter for the next few weeks he was going to enjoy its advantages. He had an hour and half to kill before Liam was supposed to wake up so he was going to relish in the silence while he could. He fixed himself a bowl of Weetabix, a meal he had almost everyday as a kid. If he tried he could still hear his mum sighing in defeat as he grabbed the box out of the cupboard instead of eating the extravagant meal she prepared each morning. Zayn even felt generous enough to wash his own dishes after eating, really not wanting to leave any evidence that he was there eating.

He exited the kitchen and grabbed his bag, walking into the laundry room. It look stocked pretty well, all the name brand detergents lined the walls. He tossed opened the machine and dumped everything from his bag in it, including the bag which was starting to smell like stale weed and crisps. Feeling bold, Zayn disrobed, leaving him standing in the room in just his Batman pants. Why not clean all his clothes while he was there? He tossed some detergent in the machine and turned it on. Now that he was almost completely naked he decided to remain in the laundry room, there was less chance of a camera catching him there. He just now needed to find something to do to kill the time.

Zayn opened the laundry room door as silently as possible before tip toeing into the main room, searching for the newspaper Liam had delivered to him each morning. If he was going to hole himself up in the room he might as well catch up on the daily news. He spotted the paper grabbing it off the coffee table and made his way back to the laundry room, closing the door behind him. The paper was boring, nothing exciting reported about. Wales was a dull country from the sounds of it. Looked absolutely gorgeous on a travel brochure but that was its only appeal obviously. There was a small a small article about the filming of their show and how multi millionaire playboy Liam Payne had taken some of his lucky contestants on a tour of some of the finest castles the Welsh countryside had to offer. Gag. Zayn had a feeling that either Liam or his father had a hand in paying off the journalist to make him sound like a decent human being, which was the furthest from the truth. He did the Sudoku puzzle that was in the paper with a pen he had found in his jeans pocket when he was taking them off to wash them. That at least took up a good five minutes of his time. Other than that he was absolutely bored. Watching clothes wash was very dull and not in the least bit exciting.

“Well, well, well. What is this?”

Zayn dropped the pen from his hand, he was starting to doodle along the edges of the paper in boredom. “Shit. Liam!”

“Two days in a row,” he replied cheekily, a smirk on his face. He was standing by the door, leaning against the frame. His hair was askew, a clear indication that he just woken up. He was dressed similarly to Zayn, in just his pants, probably designer. “I'm a lucky man.”

“You're a gross man,” Zayn spat at him. “What are you doing awake anyway? Your alarm isn't set from another hour.”

“I smelt the soap,” he shrugged. “And heard footsteps in the hall. Assumed it was a clean thief or the laundry police. Boy am I glad to know it was you.”

“Leave,” Zayn told him, not turning from where he was standing, leaning up against the machine, the newspaper on top where it shook periodically from the wash.

Liam took a few steps forward so he was officially in the room. “Mr. Producer why are you cleaning your clothes in my laundry room? Your posh digs provided to you don't have one or something?”

“We all don't have daddy's money get us everything we want,” Zayn told him, mentally scolding himself for even giving into Liam's clear taunts. “Can you just leave so I can finish?”

“Aww Zaynie,” he continued to taunt him, walking closer so he was directly standing behind Zayn. “You don't want me to stay? I'm sad. I thought we were a team now.”

“We were never a team,” Zayn scoffed at him, turning his head so his eyes followed Liam's every move. “You're a pathetic excuse for a person and I'm here to make sure you don't continue to fuck up. Simple as that.”

Liam pouted which actually looked cute on him if Zayn was to actually care. His hair was still messy, bed head at its finest. His pants riding low from Liam trying to fix them so much after the kept falling from him walking around the room. Liam snaked his arms around Zayn's waist feeling the goosebumps on his skin as soon as they made contact. “Such a dutiful worker Mr. Producer.”

“Don't touch me,” he shrieked, pushing Liam's arms off of him and shoving him even further back. “I can sue you for sexual harassment buddy.”

“Fine,” Liam gave in, arms raised in a sign of surrender. “You win this round.”

“Wha-what's that supposed to mean?” Zayn asked, dumbfounded by Liam's boldness. He turned fully around so his back was now leaning up against the washing machine, arms crossed over his chest, trying to cover up at least a little bit.

“You'll eventually see,” he promised with a wink. He took a swift step towards Zayn, running his finger along the elastic band of his pants, more goosebumps rising immediately. “Enjoy your laundry. Nice pants by the way.”

“Bloody prick!” Zayn shouted as Liam left the room, closing the door behind him.

Zayn kept cursing Liam's name as he took his clothes out of the washing machine and placed them in the dryer. No one has ever gotten under his skin like this, no one in his entire life and Zayn had three sisters he use to live with. Even on their worst days Adam never made Zayn feel like he wanted to punch him directly in the face over and over until he was unrecognizable. The only upside was that it looked like Liam knew his limits, knew when he pushed Zayn's buttons because he quickly backed off right after. If Liam was like this with him he could only imagine how he acted in his everyday life, when he wasn't around the ass kissers he called friends. The press had dubbed them the Wolverhampton Washups. It was Liam surrounding himself with lads from his hometown who desperately tried to make it big in life before deciding to sponge off of Liam and his fame and money. Stand up guys, really. That's why Zayn didn't have any friends, everyone nowadays had ulterior motives when they met him. They didn't see him as a person, especially after he mentioned what he did for a living. They all assumed his job title came with a fat paycheck and all the luxuries working in television allegedly came with. Perks and luxuries? That was all an illusion. Louis was the only one who got paid handsomely, besides Niall and everyone at the network. Everyone else got paid enough to survive, which was still a crock of shit. Zayn was currently living in his car and washing his clothes in the suitors home, he clearly didn't get paid enough to survive.

The second the dryer buzzed indicating it was done Zayn quickly grabbed his clothes and put them back in his knapsack. He grabbed at random shirt, jeans, and socks and threw them on. He stuffed his feet into his boots, lacing them up before taking a deep breath. Seeing that Liam was now awake he had to officially start work. He clipped his walkie talkie on his jeans and turned it on, hearing the static crackling almost automatically. It was time to start his day. He had about a half hour until Liam had to emerge from his home and get in the car and head to his next date. Joy. A whole half hour where he had to spend time with Liam. He grabbed the newspaper off the top of the washer machine, throwing his knapsack over his shoulder and exiting the laundry room. He headed towards the living area to drop off his bag and the paper on the coffee table, Liam nowhere in sight. The shower wasn't on so that clearly meant he was somewhere else in the home being a pain in the ass. Zayn's stomach growled, packets of barbecue crisps clearly weren't nutritional enough to survive. He decided to give in and make his way into the kitchen. Zayn knew the refrigerator was going to be stacked with a lot of food and he might as well indulge in it. Part of Zayn's job was to write a shopping list every week for someone to go and shop for whatever Liam needed. He walked into the kitchen and immediately regretted it. In front of the stove, still in just in his pants, stood Liam cooking. Cooking what Zayn didn't know but his stomach growled again so it must've seemed good. He hung his head as he made his way to the fridge to grab some orange juice. He shrugged and just opened the cardboard container and drank directly from it. Oh well.  

“We have glasses for that you know,” Liam told him, the snark tone in his voice evident.

Zayn rolled his eyes as he closed the container and then the fridge, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thanks captain obvious.”

“You hungry?” Liam asked, pointing to the pan in front of him with the spatula that was in his hand. “I made extra just in case your were hungry.”

“What is it?” He asked, taking tentative steps forward to look at what Liam was cooking or attempting to cook.

“A frittata,” he replied, smile on his face like he was proud of himself for accomplishing such a simple tasks as cooking eggs with a few other ingredients. Spoiled rich kid.

“Your nanny teach you how to make that?” Zayn mocked, realizing the only way to get through to Liam was fighting fire with fire. “Or was it your housekeeper? Maybe even your chauffeur perhaps.”

“Forget it,” Liam sighed, ignoring Zayn's taunt and paying attention to the task at hand. “I'll just eat it myself, I've got other shit around here if you want.”

“Liam.”

Liam turned off the stove, placing the eggs on a paper plate next to him. He walked quietly to the dining table where a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee sat. “You brought the paper back in with you?”

“It's uh it's on the coffee table,” Zayn stuttered out, confused over Liam's lack of reaction. What was this kids problem? Why wasn't he fighting back?

“Okay,” he nodded, making his way into the living room to retrieve the paper and walking back into the kitchen to eat and read in silence apparently.

Zayn kept standing in the kitchen, dumbfounded. Clearly Liam could make any joke or taunt he wanted but couldn't take one. What a child. Zayn just shook his head in true disbelief, bizarre. He let Liam eat and read his paper in peace before he heard the shower being turned on minutes later. His day was now officially beginning. They had another long day ahead of him, another group date. This time the weather was cooperating with them, the clouds from the night before finally cleared and the sun was shining. The production crew knew that choosing to film in Wales in the early months of the year wasn't the perfect weather but it looked beautiful on camera. Or some shit like that, Zayn really didn't care. Another long day of waiting on Liam hand and foot and coaxing him to actually interact with the contestants. One day Zayn was going to be shocked and surprised when Liam actually started to participate without being told to, hopefully. Once Liam was finally ready to start his day Zayn let the production crew know. Minutes later they were in the car and driving off to their location for the day. The day before was a tour of castles and today was museums. Unlikely date location dates if you asked Zayn, but no one did. No one ever did. He just had to suck it up and follow order. Today's contestants were the boring half, the ten guys who's names Zayn didn't care to learn or even remember if he did learn them. Liam was more cooperative today, actually starting conversations with people, smiling politely when spoken to. A huge difference from the day before.

The day went on long like expected. Zayn did his job dutifully though, fetching Liam water or coffee when he asked. Although he did wear a scowl every time he did something Liam asked him. The production crew that followed them from museum to museum kept the pace fast and made sure they didn't linger too long in one exhibit or museum for too long. Zayn actually learned a thing or two that day, listening when the curator spoke about specific paintings or specific artifacts. Liam was obviously preoccupied by the men he was on a date with, Zayn even shockingly heard a genuine laugh from Liam as he spoke to a few of the contestants. Hell may actually be freezing over. Probably not, this was Liam Payne he was talking about. The sun was already setting by the time they arrived back at the mansion. Zayn made sure Liam was back in his room for the night before he was allowed to leave for the day. Like the night before he handed over his walkie talkie to Louis without a word and made his inevitable trek back to his car up the hill.

Another restless night of sleep awaited him. Tomorrow was a lazy day at work, thankfully. They were shooting at the mansion all day, a barbecue was planned for all twenty contestants and Liam. To Zayn that meant he wasn't going to be needed much, maybe he'd be able to hang out in the production truck with Louis and the rest of the crew. Maybe sneakily grab another shower while filming was going on, it didn't seem like Liam cared all that much anyway. Now all he was focused on was trying to get enough sleep in his cramped backseat.

His alarm went off at an ungodly hour the next morning and begrudgingly Zayn forced himself to wake up. He scrubbed at his face harshly, hoping that'd help some. It didn't, all it did was remind him that his beard was growing back and he was in a desperate need of a shave. He always took the utmost pride in his appearance, knowing he was in a business that relayed on your looks more than talents. Not having a proper place to stay kind of put a damper on things. Clean clothes didn't matter if the person wearing them looked like a disaster. He hadn't brushed his teeth in a week, just heavily relying on mouthwash and gum, if his mum saw him now she'd give him and stern look and a shake of her head. That's all it took to know that he was in trouble. The only boy in the family, he never got away with anything, if anything it just added to everything. His eldest sister got away with a lot more, being the oldest had its advantages.

With a mournful sigh Zayn finally got out his car after changing his clothes and throwing a piece of gum into this mouth. Another trek down the hill to start another day at his job. It was still early enough in the day, Liam was most likely still sleeping. Zayn stopped at his usual coffee cart to get his and Louis tea, it had become some sort of routine for them. Zayn would hand over the tea and Louis would hand over his walkie talkie. No words exchanged, just head nods and grunts of acceptance. True friendship at its finest. Like expected, Zayn was handed his walkie talkie and his daily duties from Louis, no words exchanged. His planned day of semi relaxation was cut short, he was still expected to be by Liam's side during the barbecue. He had to fetch whatever Liam wanted, from food to drink to anything else he saw fit. There went his opportunity to catch up with the production crew.

It was still early enough in the day that Zayn realized he could probably sneak in a shower like he did days before. The sun was starting to rise up above the contestants mansion and Liam's bungalow. The barbecue wasn't expected to begin until noon, giving Zayn enough time to freshen up. He unlocked the bungalow and let himself in, dropping his knapsack in the foyer. He could faintly hear Liam's snoring from inside his master bedroom. That was his cue to take the quickest shower in history, maybe if he was lucky he could nick a razor from Liam's stash and shave, look semi human again. As quietly as possible Zayn tiptoed to the bathroom and disrobed. He turned on the shower and stood under the hot spray, letting the water beat down on his neck and shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension he'd been holding in for the last few weeks. What he really wanted besides a hot shower was a cold drink. It had been too long since he was able to drink. Whatever money he did have was spent on food, tea, and toiletries to survive. If Zayn was lucky there would be alcohol at today's barbecue that he could partake in. There was always alcohol available during filming for the contestants but trying to take some without being caught was the hardest part of the job.

The shower actually did wonders and when he emerged from the bathroom minutes later Zayn felt semi human again. He was even able to shave, well, trim his facial hair at least. A small but much needed improvement. The daily paper was sitting on the coffee table when Zayn went to investigate the rest of the bungalow. Like always the kitchen was stocked with food so it was a perfect opportunity for Zayn to eat. He knew he could subtly steal food from the barbecue today but what's better than eating food purposely bought for Liam Payne? He heard noise outside the bungalow and yelling voices, more than likely Louis. The equipment truck had arrived if he heard his walkie talkie correctly, it was time to set up the barbecue. It was an ingenious idea actually, luckily it fell on one to the more decent days weather wise. A pool party slash barbecue, quintessential Everlasting tactics. Get all the contestants and suitor drunk on cheap spirits and champagne and make sure they wore as little clothing as possible. It had worked every year Zayn had worked on the show. Maybe, finally they'd get their first kiss of the series. There was a bet on that as well, not much money but enough for Zayn to maybe afford more mouthwash and splurge on socks. Harry hadn't let him down thus far so he was counting on him for today. That was unless Chad kept up his creeper act and somehow convinced Liam that he was a decent person. Louis would win then.

“Morning,” Liam grumbled when he emerged from his room around half past ten.

“Coffee’s on,” Zayn told him and pointed at the fresh pot. “Paper is on the table. You need to be ready in an hour. Swim trunks and sunscreen are the only things you need.”

“That's it?” He asked as he maneuvered his way around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets and drawers to make himself a cup of coffee.

“And your dazzling personality,” Zayn replied coldly. “I mean if you actually have one under all that bull and money you keep flashing.”

Liam scoffed and shook his head. “Mr. Producer if you even knew the half of it you'd be frightened.”

“Not likely,” he snorted and stood up, placing his plate in the sink, purposely walking up to Liam. “My skeletons would frighten your skeletons, Payne. Trust me.”

After the interlude in the kitchen both Liam and Zayn parted ways. Liam drank his coffee in the living room while he read his paper. Zayn tried to keep himself occupied with straightening up the home. He didn't know why he was, they had a weekly maid service who did that and got paid well to do that, too. It was something to declutter his thoughts, it was a thing he did when he got overwhelmed or stressed. Well, it was thing he use to do before he found out the benefits of alcohol. Seeing that the bungalow was dry he had to find someway else to busy himself. Zayn didn't know why he let Liam Payne get to him. Every single time Liam said something it make his blood boil and skin crawl. He was vile and rude and had no respect for anyone else. He acted as if he was the only person in the entire world who had struggled. And what struggle could this poor rich boy have to deal with? His inheritance wasn't as much money as he had wanted? Poor baby. Try sleeping in a car for a night or two then he'd know about real struggles. Pathetic.

When the barbecue finally started around noon things started to look up. Zayn still had to work but luckily he wasn't at Liam's beck and call as much as he thought he was going to be. One of the contestants, Johnny, was manning the grill and Leo was behind the bar mixing drinks. Liam even looked like he was enjoying himself from time to time. Shocking. All twenty men were scrambling to get his attention before the next elimination where three more of them were heading home. Louis even made an appearance to steal a beer and a hotdog, chatted with Zayn for a minute about work related things before disappearing back into the production truck. Zayn stole a beer or two to take the edge off, to calm the buzzing in his brain. After the first sip he could've cried, the whole pretending to be sober shit was rather boring if you asked him. He knew he had to be careful and make sure no one caught him, especially Louis and other high ranking producers. After eating and drinking for an hour everyone inevitably made their way into the pool or hot tub. That's when Zayn could sincerely relax. Liam was preoccupied with everyone vying for his attention and being absolute creepers, gawking over his shirtless physique. Chad running his hand up and down Liam's chest, grabbing roughly onto his exposed hips, trying to act cute by whispering garbage into his ear like they could actually have a real private moment together. Zayn could just picture Louis’s delight at what was unfolding in front of him.

“Malik.”

Zayn adjusted the walkie talkie at his hip after hearing Louis call his name. He got up from where he was sitting and walked to a semi secluded part of the garden. “What's up Lou?”

“There's someone at the gate saying they know you,” he replied, his voice coming in along with static.

“Cryptic much,” he laughed into the device. “Is this guy on the most wanted list or summat?”

“No,” Louis deadpanned. “I'm sending him in. I swear to god Malik if this is one of your degenerate friends I'm kicking your arse.”

“You're one of my degenerate friends Lou,” he countered, shutting off the walkie talkie before Louis had a chance to reply with something he would swear was witty.

Zayn walked away from the barbecue, casting one quick look at the pool to check in with what was going on. They all were still in the pool or hot tub, at least pretending to have the time of theirs lives. Harry was getting more active, swimming where Liam was perched on the edge of the pool. Chad was still being creepy, something that clearly would never change. Louis picked a true gem to win this entire thing. Zayn continued his walk around the mansion onto the graveled path that led from the driveway. He could faintly see the gates opening and a car driving in. Who in the hell drove all the way to the middle of nowhere Wales to see him? He hadn't spoken to his family in probably months and Ant and Danny knew he was working.

“Shit,” he cursed once he properly got to see the car. “Fuck.”

The car came to a stop mere inches in front of Zayn. The engine was cut off before the driver's door was swung open as aggressively as a car door could open. Like Zayn suspected, the person who got out was the one person he didn't want to see. Not now, not ever again.

“Adam.”

“You're a hard person to track down Zed,” he joked, walking towards where Zayn stood.

“Maybe I didn't want to be found,” he tried to play coy. He knew the one person to really see through his bullshit was Adam. He hadn't changed a lot since they'd last seen each other. He was still towering over him as he stood a little over six feet tall. His tanned skin glistened in the hot sun of the north. His hair had gotten a little more curly since they'd last seen each other but it fit him, it always did. “But clearly that didn't work too well.”

“The power of the internet,” he joked, his right hand ghosting against Zayn's. “You've been ignoring me.”

“I've been busy,” he replied, his hands getting clammy at Adam’s touch. It was something he missed, his chest aching with something he couldn't quite put a name on, but it also felt foreign and unnerving. “Gotta make money.”

“Speaking of money,” Adam smirked, his signature smirk that made Zayn's insides feel like they were on fire and melting out of him. “You owe me quite a lot of it.”

Zayn looked down at his scuffed boots as he kicked the gravel at his feet. He was trying desperately to do anything to stall time or have a giant hole swallow him whole. Either option seemed rather ideal at this exact moment. “Adam, babe, you see the thing is-”

“-the money Zayn!” He yelled.

“I don't have it!” He yelled back, shocked over the power of his own voice. He wasn't surprised when Adam dropped his hand hastily and harshly, like his words had physically burned him. “I-I'm sorry but I don't have it, not yet anyway. I-I can get it to you after filming.”

“You'll have it then?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes at the offense. “There's always an excuse with you Malik.”

“I'm looking at a huge bonus once filming ends,” Zayn explained in a rush. “If things go my way of course, but they will, so-so don't worry.”

“You owe me three months worth of rent,” Adam sighed. “Plus utilities.”

“I-I know,” he nodded. “You just gotta wait a little longer for it, yeah? You'll get it.”

“Malik everything okay?” Louis voice crackled through the walkie talkie.

Zayn let out a loud breath at Louis’s voice interrupting his conversation, even though it was more than welcomed. Being around Adam always made Zayn tense, when they were good, they were amazing, spectacular even. It was when they were off that it slightly frightened Zayn, and not many things did. He unclipped the walkie talkie from his belt and sighed. “Yeah, we're good babe. He's umm leaving soon so I'll head back to work.”

“We're not done,” Adam told him firmly. “I didn't drive all the way here just to leave empty handed. I need something babe, a down payment of some sort.”

“I don't have anything, Adam,” he repeated. He felt a little ridiculous being so openly vulnerable around the one person who had seen him at his most vulnerable moments of his life. Adam held his hair back when he drank too much after his grandmother died and he wasn't invited to the funeral. He was also the one who supplied him with the booze so it was a fair trade. “I told you I'll have all the money plus extra once filming is finished. Six weeks, that's all I ask.”

Adam flared his nostrils, never a good sign for Zayn. He took a deep breath and just stayed silent. Zayn could see his brain working overtime and almost pinpoint the exact moment when things took a turn for the worse. “Maybe you can repay me in another way, hmm? At least until the cash rolls in.”

Disgusted. That's the only word Zayn could think of to describe how he felt at this exact moment. He was use to Adam’s games by now, having lived with him for close to eight months now. Adam didn't know the Zayn that was forced into a rehab center by his job for over drinking and almost ruining a multi million dollar television show. He knew the Zayn that was desperate for a place to live and some sort of company, no matter what form in came in. When Zayn was at a loss for money he'd gladly exchange sexual favors for some sort of reprieve with Adam. Today wasn't one of those days. “I'm working. I-I can't just disappear to suck your dick somewhere. Besides there's cameras everywhere.”

“Even better,” he smirked, his eyebrows raised in curiosity and a playful manner. He tugged at Zayn's wrist and looked around them. “Which room is yours? Sneak away quickly. No one will notice and we both can leave here happy until my money is delivered.”

“I don't have anywhere to stay,” Zayn huffed, still disgusted. He couldn't believe he was actually attracted to this guy, at least he once was. Desperation does a lot of crazy things to a person.

“Isn't that knob Liam Payne the boy toy this series? I figure he's got fancy digs around here, maybe suck me off on his bed,” Adam suggested, rather rudely if Zayn was being frank.

There was a lot of things in this world that got to Zayn, usually he just let it roll off his back. What was the use in getting upset over something he more than likely had no control over? Being with Adam was a choice he made, a bad one, but a choice he made nonetheless. He knew rather quickly what he was getting himself into when he moved in with him. He was brash and loud, messy, and abrupt. Qualities that Zayn himself possessed but couldn't stand in other people. He couldn't hold a job for longer than six weeks, his bosses and colleagues getting irritated with him quickly. That should've been a red flag for Zayn right away but he chose to ignore it. Give Adam the benefit of the doubt. Not the smartest idea he's ever had, clearly. He was still raw from rehab, he had just spent thirty days picking at a scab that he called his mind. He was vulnerable and a cute smile and a six pack of abs was exactly what he needed to make him feel something, anything, again.

“Let's go babe,” Adam tried to coax him once again. “We both know you don't need this job anyway.”

Zayn sighed, looking down at the strong grip Adam had on his wrist. Usually that sort of hold didn't make him flinch, a welcomed pressure even. Today it just didn't sit well with him, made his stomach turn. What he use to think were butterflies was actually disgust. “Just leave Adam. You'll get your money and everything will be fine, yeah?”

The grip on his wrist got tighter, uncomfortable. “Really? You're gonna say no to me?”

“I'm saying no,” he told him strongly, planting his feet firmly on the gravel path. Adam was stronger than him, could easily push and pull him around if he wanted to. This was Zayn's only way to literally and figuratively stand his ground. “I'm saying no now and I'm saying no forever, Adam.”

“You're gonna regret those words,” he threatened, squaring his shoulders. Doing anything to make himself look bigger, which wasn't that hard honesty. “Trust me.”

Zayn tried his best to stay firm, not many things frightened him. He learned to take care of himself at an early age. The only Muslim kid at school toughened him up quickly. The bullies were going to stop picking on you once you knew how to fight back. Nothing changed once he grew up; that's all Adam was really. He was a bully in an adult's body, but still had a childlike mentality. Simple. Words were easily brushed off, sticks and stones and all that hoopla. Adam grabbing roughly at his wrist, his knuckles turning white at the pressure he had around Zayn was not going to fly over well. Zayn knew he could take the easy way out and call security, they'd gladly escort Adam off the premises. He knew it wouldn't be that easy, he was going to have to fight him off himself. Breathing deeply was all he could muster up quickly, trying to keep himself calm and rational, which was kind of funny if Zayn had time to stop and think about it.

“Let go,” he seethed between gritted teeth. “You really don’t want to start something, especially here.”

Adam scoffed as his grip grew tighter. “Aww c’mon babe, you really think I’m afraid of the lot that work here.”

“Not them, me,” he replied as boldly as he could convey. “You keep forgetting you don’t know a thing about me Adam.”

“I know everything about you,” he spat in Zayn’s face. “Little boy lost, begging for someone to show faux emotion and he’ll be yours faithfully. Like a puppy really. Cute, sad, and pathetic.”

“Fuck off,” Zayn hotly replied.

“Is there a problem here?”

Zayn snapped his head around fast at the voice, Liam. Shit. He quickly turned back around to face Adam, silently hoping he’d drop his wrist and the whole ordeal all together. From the wicked gleam in Adam’s eye he knew the issue was far from being dropped.

“Zayn, you okay?” Liam gingerly walked towards the pair, still in his swim trunks, a towel wrapped around his shoulders. He was supposed to be mingling with the contestants not prying into Zayn’s disaster of a situation right now. Perfect. Why couldn’t willing someone to go away actually work? Liam was more than fine with ignoring him any other time during the day, why now? Why must he play knight in shining armor now? “I could really use a tea you know.”

“I could really use you leaving us alone you know,” he countered. Wanker literally walked out of the hot tub to find him to ask for a bloody cup of tea. What an asshole. “You’ll get your tea when I’m finished, okay?”

“What you a gopher or summat?” Adam laughed, the grip on Zayn’s wrist loosening. “You getting anything here mister pretty boy asks for? Hmm?”

“Adam,” he gritted his teeth once more. He saw Liam walking closer out of the corner of his eye.

“Shut up.”

“Asks for a wank, you gotta do it?” Adam asked, a large wicked grin of his face. The smug bastard. “Hey pretty boy, Zayn’s great with his hands by the way, his mouth too.”

“That’s enough,” Liam exclaimed. “I think it’s best you go, yeah?”

“You’re trying to threaten me?” Adam sneered at Liam, he rolled his eyes at the lame attempt. “Go back to where you belong, yeah? Leave Zed and I alone to deal with our adults things.”

“Harassing him and stopping him for doing his job is adult things?” Liam asked, nodding his head like he was actually intrigued as to what Adam was saying. “That’s news to me.”

“Liam,” Zayn sighed. How cliché did everything around him look right now? He was almost sandwiched between Liam and Adam, both nearly towering over him in height and stature. Now they were close to coming to blows over something as mindless as Liam not knowing to mind his own damn business.

“No,” Adam stopped Zayn. “I wanna see how big and bad Payne thinks he really is.”

“Adam,” Zayn groaned in frustration, he turned his head about to properly look at Liam. “I’ll get your tea in a tick, okay? We’re almost finished here.”

“Unbelievable,” Liam muttered unsuccessfully under his breath. He slowly backed away from the duo, shaking his head the entire time. “Hey Mr. Producer! Forget the tea, just keep the other lads busy while Chad and I have a private one on one, okay?”

“What!” Zayn gawked. “Li-Liam, I’m not their bloody babysitters.”

“Oh well,” he shrugged, turning around and heading towards the back of the contestants mansion and the barbeque.

The standoff between Zayn and Adam only lasted a few more minutes after that. Zayn had decided to just give in, too exhausted to keep fighting. No matter how long he'd try to put up a good fight, emotionally, mentally, or even physically, Adam always had the upper hand. He was taller and stronger and had a lot more to lose if it did come to blows. They luckily came to an agreement when Zayn gave him one of the rings on his fingers. He rarely wore jewelry nowadays, selling a lot of it to get by. This particular piece he kept near and dear to him, it belonged to his granddad, his father's father. He had died when Zayn was eighteen and off at uni, it was a devastating blow to the entire family. It was the only thing the man had left Zayn in his will. He wasn't a man of money or expensive possessions but the ring meant everything to him.

A curious young Zayn would always sit and just listen as his granddad spoke of stories of growing up in Pakistan and migrating to England as a young boy. The changes he had seen within himself and within the world. He was a hard working man, his face showed it, his body showed it. The ring though, it was something he always wore and it just peeked Zayn's interest. It wasn't fancy, just a plain gold band, ruby, sapphire, and tanzanite stones mounted on it. One to represent the birth month of his children. That's what made it a sentimental piece of jewelry. Now it belonged to Adam. The wind felt like it was being punched out of Zayn's lungs when he handed it over. The cold band lying in Adam’s hot palm. They both knew that the money he could get from selling the ring would tie him for now. It would hold him over until Zayn got paid and hopefully received his handsome reward once the series was over. Louis was babbling incoherently on the walkie talkie once again, that was quickly turned off. Zayn had enough over everything right now, he just wanted to disappear. Wanted to go back to his car and sleep the rest of the day away.

“In six weeks I'll have the rest of what I owe you,” Zayn assured him.

“You better,” Adam vaguely threatened him. He leaned forward and placed a dry kiss to the corner of Zayn's mouth. “It was good to see you, Zed. Truly.”

The internal struggle to not roll his eyes or openly gag was hard for Zayn, but he did it. “Yeah, great.”

Watching Adam walk back to his car and finally take off was the first time in a long time that Zayn let himself feel okay. He knew things weren’t fully okay, nothing ever has, but just for a brief moment it felt okay. He had one issue off his back for at least the next six weeks, now he had to deal with all the other crap going on around it. He pulled his hair tighter, giving himself something to stabilize himself, before walking back towards the contestant’s mansion. Before he even got to the back he could smell the chlorine of the pool and feel the heat off the hot tub. The volume was still loud, the music even louder. At least they seemed they like were enjoying themselves. Lucky bastards.

Zayn scanned the bodies around the back and noticed Harry right way, his pale skin soaking wet, his long hair a mess on top of his head. This kid was hopeless. He saw a few of the other contestants, their names he refused to learn, hanging around either talking to each other or just lounging and trying desperately to get whatever sun Wales had to offer. No Liam in sight though, Chad either. Like Zayn didn’t already have enough shit to deal with. That was more than likely what Louis was babbling on the walkie talkie. So Zayn totally had a valid reason to turn it off right away. He knew Liam had to be joking when he said he’d take Chad back to his place for some one on one time, he wasn’t that stupid. Clearly he was wrong, clearly he was wrong in giving Liam Payne the benefit of the doubt. That’ll teach him to never do that again.

The camera people and low ranking producers just kept looking at Zayn, silently hoping he knew what to do. This was all new to him, when he was a producer himself all this was gold, something you wanted to happen so early on in the series. Ratings gold, the entire country would eat it up, it’ll be over all the front pages of the papers. Now as Liam Payne’s personal gopher and having all this money and energy invested in Harry winning, Zayn knew he had to do something. He checked on the remaining contestants once more before begrudgingly making his way towards Liam’s bungalow. He had to suck it up, put on his big boy pants and be a professional adult. It killed him to think about that, this series was supposed to be easy. He was supposed to sit back and watch the drama unfold alongside Louis. Knick crisps from the craft service table and smoke a blunt or two while the sun was rising. That was all he was supposed to be doing. Now he had to actually earn his bloody paycheck.

He got to Liam’s bungalow and things were eerily quiet, even when Liam was alone things were never that silent. The foyer and living area was empty, as was the bathroom, laundry room, and kitchen. The only logical place for Liam and Chad to be was the bedroom, of course. Not only did Zayn have to be a babysitter he also had to be a cockblocker, great. He could hear his mates back in Bradford ribbing him already. He could hear the entirety of the United Kingdom yelling at him, the bloody queen herself would more than likely be joining in with the tirade, that’s just how lucky Zayn was nowadays. The well placed cameras by the doorway spotting him right away, Louis probably on the other side cursing his name and the day he was born. Don’t worry Lou, he felt exactly the same. None of the bedroom doors in either the mansion of bungalow had locks so it was easy for Zayn to just walk in the room. He had to take a few reassuring breaths before actually getting the courage to do it. Did he really want to see what was going on? Did he want to see Liam Payne’s hairy arse in the middle of something with steroid loving, protein powder chugging Chad? Not really.

Sure enough, what Zayn didn’t want to see he saw. As soon as he opened the bedroom door he was greeted with someone’s wet bathing suit on the floor by his feet. He wished that was the worst of it. Chad was straddling Liam’s legs, his massive tribal tattoo that was across his back gave him away instantly. Of course a douchebag like Chad would have a tribal tattoo, all the jerks like him did. His massive steroid induced body was hovering over Liam, it was even hard to tell if he was actually in the room. The only thing that indicated that he was there was his hands on Chad’s hips, his hand tattoos giving him away. It all just looked like a bad porno movie, something that’s on cable television at three in the morning when Zayn’s too high or drunk or not tried enough to actually sleep. So bad that he couldn’t even muster up enough energy to even try and get half hard or even try for a desperate wank. Pathetic really.

“Shows over, let’s go,” Zayn announced, loudly clapping his hands to get their attention. “People to see, places to be. Up and at ‘em gents.”

Sometimes Zayn loved his job, truly, honestly. Seeing Chad’s face after being frightened half to death was one of the reasons for loving his job. He quickly turned pale, kind of like the protein powder he’d been carrying around with him for the last two weeks. If he had pearls he’d probably be clutching them, he looked so scandalized, shocked and amazed that someone other than Liam had access to the bungalow. Hello! He currently was a contestant on a show that had millions of pound invested in it. Nothing and no one experiences privacy. It shouldn’t be that difficult to realize. Especially when whatever you’re doing involves the suitor, nothing you do will go unnoticed. Maybe a rereading of the contract would suffice.

“Mr. Producer,” Liam crooned, a smirk on his face. “Came to join the party, hmm?”

Chad kept going about his business, scurrying off Liam in a hurry, trying to desperately cover himself up. Not that anyone was really paying attention. He walked out of the room and bungalow after grabbing his swimming trunks without anyone really noticing.  Liam continued to lay against the headboard, stark naked, basking in the awkwardness. Zayn diverted his eyes, trying to be respectful, even though Liam clearly didn’t deserve it.

“Up,” Zayn repeated, this time harshly. “You’ve still got shit to do today and banging protein boy wasn’t part of it, okay?”

“Jealous?” Liam laughed in amusement. “You have to be at my beck and call while I get to do whatever or whomever I please, hmm?”

Zayn’s mum always told him that the more he rolled his eyes the better chance he’d have at them getting stuck like that. Well, he’d been rolling them quite often since working on Everlasting and they hadn’t gotten stuck yet. So ha to you mum. “Just like life.”

Liam pushed his back off the headboard and watched closely as Zayn just milled about the bedroom, picking up wet towels and clothes and tossing them either on the bed or the lounge chair that was to the right on the bed. “Excuse me?”

“Get dressed and back out there, okay,” he sighed, too exhausted to pick a fight, shockingly. After all the Adam garbage he didn’t have the energy to make Liam Payne cry, especially when they weren’t in front of cameras. CCTV didn’t count because they can’t pick up every little detail of their interaction.

The barbeque was tense after that, at least from Zayn’s standpoint. Liam was acting odd, interacting with the contestants, other than Chad, but keeping an eye as Zayn hovered over the area. Louis emerged from his trailer and even made a cameo by the pool, mostly to steal leftovers, and also to inquire about what really happened in the bungalow. Louis wasn’t stupid, no one ever claimed he was, but he knew how to play ignorant really well. He pretended he didn’t feel the tension, did see how Chad was apprehensive to go near Liam or Zayn for that matter. Less interaction between Chad and Liam mess less likely of a chance of Louis winning the big prize, he wanted to eradicate that quickly. Zayn was just waiting, waiting for why Louis actually made an appearance, and it wasn’t for the soggy foreign meat products being passed off and hamburgers and hot dogs.

“Bro,” Louis finally broke his awkward silence, just stood beside Zayn and chewed his food loudly, a piss warm beer in his free hand. “Who was that guy?”

“No,” he replied, eyes never wavering off the pool and hot tub.

“Really?” Louis squawked, pieces of chewed up hotdog and bun flying out his mouth. Real attractive Lou, really. “Malik.”

“Tomlinson,” Zayn echoed Louis’s whiny tone.

“One question then,” he bargained, moving to stand directly in front of Zayn’s eye line. “Do I need to worry about him? Is he gonna jeopardize my production?”     

Zayn sighed, exhaling loudly from his nose. If he was being honest with himself, that was a very loaded question. He could almost immediately feel the urge to drink or smoke, or do anything counterproductive start to itch at the back of his mind. Facing his feelings and being open and honest? That wasn’t one of Zayn Malik’s many trademarks. “We-we’ll be okay Lou, okay?”

Louis took a long swig of his piss beer, narrowing his eyes. He looked like he was trying to read Zayn or assess the situation altogether, two things he was never really good at to begin with. “Good. Now get back to work, Malik.”

Watching other people have fun was boring, why did that bother Zayn so much as a kid? Seeing all the popular kids huddled together in the canteen or in the back of the classroom just whispering and looking directly at him. At age six and seven that would leave him completely gutted, now he couldn’t care less. Let them have fun and make complete arses of themselves on national TV, Zayn was just gonna sit back and drink, inconspicuously, but drink nonetheless. A lot of the guys were sipping away at fruity cocktails or weak beer while there was hard shit available. No one was touching the rum so Zayn was helping himself. He was still doing his job, keeping a semi watchful eye on Liam and the contestants. No one was getting too handsy, no one was causing a scene, well, not yet at least.

His walkie talkie remained silent, except for the occasional sound of static.  Liam as interacting with all the guys, Harry was getting attention so Zayn was happy. Maybe a little too happy, he was getting drunk. Seeing as he hadn’t had anything substantial to eat all day the rum was hitting him hard. He could feel the numbness in his fingers and toes begin, a clear indication that he was intoxicated. Next usually came his face and mouth, his tongue feeling heavy and foreign in his mouth. The constant craving for a cigarette or something stronger started to kick in. All Zayn had to remember was to not make a fool of himself again. The cameras may not be on him directly, but they were all around him, not afraid to capture anything that may make a good television show. Last year’s series finale was a clear indication of that. That’s what got him in trouble the year before, everyone was too busy paying attention to the production of the show that they didn’t even notice that one of their own producers was getting drunk each and every night. And the worst part was that he was getting drunk off the alcohol provided by the show itself, courtesy of the network.

“Ok, time to wake up.”

Zayn jumped up, startled at the sudden push to his shoulder, his feet feeling wet. “What-what’s going on?”

“You fell asleep,” Liam told him with a laugh. “Production is over for the day. Some gopher you are, mate.”

“I did not-“ Zayn began, looking around at his surroundings. The sun was almost completely set, the cameraman and production assistants were scurrying around, closing up for the day, waiting for the second unit to take their place. “Shit.”

“No one noticed,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, his wet hair still dripping on Zayn’s feet. “No one important at least. I’m heading to bed, I’m knackered, you can head back to your place for the night.”

“My place,” he mumbled to himself, his tongue still feeling heavy in his mouth. Fuck, he was still drunk. Maybe if he tried standing up, bad, bad idea. The ground kept moving. “Thanks.”

Liam huffed out a sarcastic laugh as he held onto Zayn’s arm to help steady his balance. “Need someone to drive ya?”

“Drive me to me car,” he giggled, finding that concept of being driven to his car oddly hysterical.

He was supposed to be a brooding drunk, when did he become a giggly drunk? A lot changes in a year, clearly. “I-I’m o-kay.”

“Come on,” Liam told him sternly, lifting Zayn up as he started to falter on his feet. “You aren’t in the right mind to be alone tonight, the babysitter needs to be babysat.”

Zany stood up straight, fixing himself, trying to gather himself. “I can get back to my car just fine, I don’t need no help, okay?”

“You gotta be a hard ass even when someone is being nice to you,” he scoffed, slowly dragging Zayn towards the bungalow. It was kind of sad really, how easily he was being manhandled by Liam, he was chalking it up to being drunk and not that Liam was stronger than him in any capacity, not at all. “You’re staying at mine tonight, okay?”

Zayn scoffed as he rolled his eyes, feeling the inevitable hangover forming already. Great. Liam had already opened the bungalow entrance, practically shoving Zayn inside. “I will n-not stay he-here. My car is perfectly comfortable.”

Liam shoved Zayn onto the first available surface that looked soft, the sofa in the living area in this instance. He slipped off his slippers and threw the towel that was around his waist towards the laundry room before he sat down on the coffee table facing a semi awake and coherent Zayn. “Why do you keep saying car?”

“Huh?” Zayn asked, his right arm thrown over his face, covering one of his eyes. “What are you babbling about now, Payne?”

“Are you living in your car?” Liam hesitantly asked. “Does that have something to do with that bloody pain in the arse I saw this morning talking to you?”

The silence in the bungalow was deafening, the production crew milling about outside could faintly be heard. If you tried to listen closely and carefully, Louis’s obnoxiously loud voice could be heard, barking orders at the second unit crew. Zayn turned off his walkie talkie after he finished half the bottle of rum that Liam and the contestants disregarded. Zayn just kept blinking at Liam, refusing to speak, pretending his was too drunk to comprehend what was being asked of him. It was embarrassing, and frankly none of Liam’s business. If he told him the truth it’ll be something Liam would probably hold over his head until the production of the show was over. He could already hear the teasing and the taunts and the laughs Liam would have at his expense.

“Zayn.” Liam poked Zayn’s shin with his toe, trying to get any sort of response out of him, even a grunt in recognition would suffice. He sighed in defeat, giving up with this obvious one way conversation. “You’re already half asleep anyway, you know where everything is so you’re welcome to whatever. See you tomorrow, Zayn.”

“Goodnight,” he replied once he knew Liam was already half down the hallway, but close enough to hear his barely above a whisper voice.

Waking up in unknown places was not a foreign concept for Zayn, he’d been doing it since he left uni. Random beds from a one night stand, pub bathrooms, alleyways, you name it and Zayn’s probably woken up there. This time was odd, waking up and feeling refreshed, slightly hungover, but refreshed. He reluctantly opened his eyes, cursing at the sun that temporarily blinded him. He quickly shielded his eyes, feeling the dull ache in the back of his head. He needed coffee and water, maybe an aspirin or two. Firstly, he needed to remember where the hell he was. He could feel the comfortable sofa he was sitting on, noticing he was still in the same clothes he was wearing the day before, could smell the alcohol on his clothes and less attractively, his breath. But that wasn’t different than any other morning since filming started.

“Morning sunshine.”

Zayn groaned at the chipper voice, sadly recognizing it right away. “I slept here?”

“Do you not remember last night?” Liam asked, pushing Zayn’s feet off the sofa to make room for himself to sit which earned a less than threatening growl from Zayn. “I had to practically drag you down here from the pool area. Some people just don’t know how to handle their liquor. Amateurs.”

“I’m a world class drinker,” Zayn pathetically defended himself, regretting it the second after the words left his mouth. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon,” Liam replied. “Had to eat my fruit platter and read my paper in the kitchen like a civilized person.”

“It’s about time,” he muttered under his breath. “What do you have planned today? I have shit to do before I can start working.”

Liam narrowed his eyes at Zayn, curious as to what his words implied but also knowing not to poke the subject, especially after the night before. “What do you need to do?”

“I’ve just got things to do,” he replied forcibly, getting his bearings and standing up, despite the bounding in his head. “I need to grab a few things, like clean clothes and whatnot.”

Liam scoffed and Zayn’s attempts to stand and not wince at every single move he made, the lines between his brows giving him away. “I’ve got clothes, they’re probably a hell of a lot better than the shite you wear and call fashion.”

“I bought my clothes with my own money,” Zayn spat at him. “Daddy didn’t give me a dime, unlike you, spoiled rich punk.”

“Why do I even try?” Liam asked, sounding more like he was talking to himself than Zayn. “I try to be nice, for what? To get my head chewed off.”

Zayn tried to roll his eyes but the pain in his head didn’t really appreciate the attempt. “You? Nice? Don’t make me laugh, Payne, honestly.”

“I tried to help you with that douchebag yesterday, I’ve been letting you use my shower and laundry room without asking any questions,” he rattled off, still carefully monitoring Zayn’s every move. “Now I’m offering you clothes to wear for one bloody day mate and you jump down my throat. Let someone help you, man.”

Without saying anything, Zayn gathered his belongings and headed towards the front door. He still had time before production officially began anyway. It was going to be a busy day seeing elimination was rapidly approaching. Five more contestants were going to be sent home so it was now time for them to scramble and beg and plead Liam to keep them. Another few hours where Zayn had to sit and watch as grown men acted like pathetic human beings. The sun was already shining high in the sky when he exited the bungalow, he had to strain his eyes to see in front of him, which clearly didn’t help his hangover at all. He let out a hot puff of air from his nose while he continued to walk up the graveled pathway and towards the mansions exist. He needed to go to his car and get a change of clothes, being on camera or not, he still needed to look and feel presentable. Also, he owed Louis his daily tea.

The one thing that was still bothering him as he walked up the hill was Liam. Well, besides the obvious reason why Liam Payne bothered him. He was trying to make himself look like a martyr, helping poor defenseless Zayn. Please. The one person in this world who didn’t need anybody’s help was Zayn Malik, he learned that the hard way and early on in life. Offering up his shower and laundry room suddenly made Liam qualified for sainthood? Don’t make him laugh. If Liam was such a good guy then why did he beg the network and upper producers to make him the suitor on this year’s Everlasting? Why campaign for the job if you didn’t need to have a total image makeover? See, Liam forgot that Zayn use to be a producer, meaning he knew all the inside details that only producers were privy to know. He could try and fool the country even try and fool the contestants, but he could never, never fool someone who knew all about the true Liam Payne.

Finally reaching his car on top of the hill, Zayn quickly changed into whatever clean clothes he could find. He wasn’t in a rush to get back to work, that was obvious, but he really didn’t want to linger in his smelly, dirty clothes for much longer. As much as he hated to admit it, he did have to go back to work eventually. If he was going to win this whole thing and give Adam his money plus pocket some for himself, he’d need to put at least a little bit of effort into what he was doing. He had it made if he really thought about it. He was at Liam’s side almost the entire day, he could easily manipulate the situation to his advantage. Zayn knew that he couldn’t wait for Harry to make his move, he was moving at a glacial pace while Chad already had Liam in the sack, giving Louis the upper hand. He wasn’t going to force Liam onto Harry or vice versa, maybe just give them both a small little nudge in the right direction. In the end if Liam gave Harry the final rose and pretended to be happy and have a short lived fairy tale ending, that was more than okay for Zayn, as long as Louis stayed true to his word and put money in his account at the end of everything. He could live with the repercussions that were more than likely inevitable, he could live with them as he lay on the exotic beach with a drink in his hand, far, far away from production.      

The trip back down the hill was just like all the other ones, full of dread and regret and wonderment. He made his typical stop to get Louis tea, not having enough money on him this time to get some for himself. He’d just knick something for Liam’s kitchen and call it even. He walked through the gates and towards the production trucks, slightly missing the camaraderie and the late nights, the unproductive producers meetings. Like every morning for the past two weeks, Zayn handed over the tea to Louis and accepted his walkie talkie begrudgingly. He didn’t receive a pep talk this time, just a nod of Louis head and a quick wave of his hand. No news is better than good news is most cases, this being one of them. If the network wasn’t complaining about Zayn’s job performance, that was a good thing. Just like the old days he grabbed a packet of barbeque crisps off the craft service table, eating them as he made his way towards the bungalow. Elimination was looming over everyone’s head so today was the day all the contestants were going to be groveling for Liam’s attention and Zayn had to sit back and watch it all. Great.    

“Aww, Mr. Producer, did you get dressed up for me?” Liam mocked as soon as Zayn opened the bungalow door. Liam was conveniently walking passed the hall, towel around his waist, obvious he just got out the shower. “You shouldn’t have. I’m honored.”

Zayn rolled his eyes as Liam over-dramatically clutched at his chest. “Save it Trust Fund. Want me to send the contestants in now seeing you’re clearly ready to just spread your legs for anyone and everyone these days.”  

Liam pouted, sticking his bottom lip out as he walked towards Zayn. He stood inches in front of him, could feel Zayn’s breath on his face, see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed sharply. He wasn’t doing anything though, just trying to control his breathing as Liam’s fingertips traced the top of his jeans, his thumb close to the top button. It was eerily silent, just a lot of heavy breathing from the both of them. Zayn hissing as Liam undid the top button to his jeans, purposely stepping closer so their hips were aligned. Zayn grabbed at Liam’s towel and was tempted to either drop it or pull him in closer. Whatever he decided to do he better do it quick. Liam leaned closer, kind of like he was egging Zayn on, telling him it was okay without verbalizing it.

“Too bad I don’t fuck the help,” Liam spat in his face before turning on his heel and into the bedroom.

Zayn stood there dumbfounded, which was rare for him. It was officially, Liam Payne was a piece of shit and exactly how all the tabloids described him. He heard faint laughing coming from the bedroom, Liam boasting at what had just happened, no doubt proud of himself, the smug bastard. He had so many thoughts running through his mind, mostly trying to figure out how to plan his revenge. It was what Liam deserved.

“You okay Mr. Producer?” Liam asked once he emerged out of his bedroom, he was fully dressed this time, smirking wildly.

“So here’s how we’re running today,” he began, stepping closer, “these pathetic pieces of scum vying to be your one true love are all gonna parade in here, yeah. I will decide who sees you and for how long and at what time. Got it? I make the rules around here, Payne, not you.”

The smirk quickly vanished from Liam’s face, he was now serious, his brows knitted together in concentration. “Demanding, I like it. It suits you.”

“We’re gonna start with Chad,” Zayn continued to rattle off, ignoring Liam’s attempt at being cheeky. “You’ll sit on opposite ends of the couch, not too close because everyone has unfortunately seen that already. Gotta leave suspense, yeah, leave them wanting more.”

“You producing again?” Liam asked, his eyes following Zayn as he paced around the room on some sort of high, a power high. “What happened to you being my gopher? You get a promotion during your morning walk?”

“I’m always producing,” he clarified, stopping his pacing and turning to look at Liam. “You’ll end with Harry. You like Harry, Harry likes you. Got it? Good. Now finish getting ready so the first unit can set up.”

Liam gave Zayn a side eye as he followed his directions, going back towards his bedroom and bathroom to finish readying himself. Zayn was buzzing, feeling the blood flow through his veins, that’s how hyped up he was. It felt good being back in the driver’s seat, even without a license so to speak. If he had to follow Liam around and be at his beck and call, why not use it to his advantage, make a good show out of it. Louis wasn’t going to complain and he highly doubted that the network would complain either. As Liam readied himself, with the help of the hair and make-up department, the first unit set up the cameras, lights, and mics all over the bungalow, making sure nothing wasn’t picked up either audibly or visually. Louis voice could be heard barking orders over the walkie talkies, making sure everything was in place, even Zayn. He was to be out of every shot, but still be close enough to step in if need be.    

Zayn watched on as every guy came in at exactly the time he specified. Chad was first and tried to be cheeky, bringing up the little encounter they had the day before. It made Liam blush and giggle and made Zayn want to pluck his own eyes out with a spoon. He remained standing behind all the camera and light people, making sure he had a clear view of Liam and made sure Liam knew he was watching closely. Chad tried to take Liam back to the bedroom but I firm shake of his head let Liam know that Zayn wasn’t having it. Not just because he didn’t like Chad and didn’t want Louis to win this series, also because it was obvious that’s all Chad wanted out of Liam, he clearly wasn’t here to find true love, or whatever. The other guys, who names Zayn had no desire to learn, filtered in and out at a blinding pace. Some poured their hearts out to Liam, trying desperately to get a rose later. It was only weeks into the series and some guys were ready to profess their love. Get the fuck outta here.

Last but certainly not least was the only other reason besides the money that Zayn stayed working for this dumb show, Harry. Liam welcomed him warmly into the bungalow, shooting Zayn a look as he walked towards the couch area, pointing at the seat next to him for Harry to sit. Harry looked nervous, understandably. It was all new and exciting and intimidating, this was the first time they ever had any alone time together. It was clear that everyone in the mansion knew about Chad and Liam’s encounter, they all were feeling the pressure to up the ante themselves. Make Liam take notice. Harry was Zayn’s only hope at lining his pockets heavily and maybe getting out of this hellhole, the show and Wales.

Harry looked over at Liam all doe eyes and giraffe limbs he clearly still hadn't figured out how to use. Zayn could see himself liking Harry in the real world, if Zayn was into guys who needed as much help as he did. The nerves were radiating off of Harry, it was obvious that he and Liam had nothing in common. Seeing Liam try was all Zayn had asked of him, so progress. Liam leaned forward and whispered something in Harry's ear that made him blush, his cheeks pink against his pale skin, his dimples evident when he smiled, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. His eyes were wide when he looked down at Liam, moving closer to whisper in his ear. Hopefully the microphones they were wearing caught whatever they were saying or else Louis would be livid. Zayn couldn't care less, as long as this exchange kept positively progressing, it didn't matter if it was caught on camera or audio or not. They kissed and Zayn could faintly hear Louis hiss in anger over the walkie talkie. This was ruining his plans of Chad running away with the show.

This was exactly what Zayn needed to see, without seeming like a total pervert. Harry was safe from elimination, he just had to be. Despite their opposites it was clear Liam obviously saw something in Harry. How he had a connection with both Chad and Harry was beyond Zayn at the moment but he didn't care. His guy was on the top of the heap so he didn't have to worry. Zayn could see the money, smell it even. Chad was the only obstacle in his way and he wasn't going to be deterred by his overgrown muscles or his excessive use of protein powder in everything he drank. It was all a distraction from the guy he actually was, a gold digger. Using Liam as a stepping stone to do more in the public eye, make a name for himself any ways necessary. Harry was making whining noises into Liam's mouth as Liam tangled his hand in Harry's hair. Okay, maybe this was a bit too much. He wasn't a prude, far from it, but this kiss was a tad excessive. If Liam was playing it up for the camera, he was doing a damn good job. Shockingly.

The pulled away, finally, Harry's cheeks pink and his hair a mess. They shared a sickening sweet smile before going back to whispering. If this all wasn't for the damn cameras Zayn would believe Harry and Liam were a real couple. It was obvious there was some sort of connection. Harry had good intentions, it was clear from the first interview Zayn had done with him. He wanted to find love and he wanted to find it with Liam. Why? Only god and Harry know that answer. Liam walked Harry to the front door, both of them molded to each other in what could look as a romantic gesture. They shared their goodbyes and another affectionate kiss before Harry gave Liam a little wave and left the bungalow making his way towards the mansion. A loud cut was called from next to Zayn. The cameras were shut off and everyone start to close down production.

“You're welcome,” Liam said to Zayn.

Zayn balked at Liam for a moment, confused. “I'm welcome? For?”

“That charade I just put on for you,” he replied, gesturing towards the closed bungalow door. He unhooked his mic pack from the back of his pants and passed it to a sound guy who was waiting with his hand out. “Acting like I really want to be with Harry.”

“You don't like him?” Zayn asked in a huff. “Could've fooled me.”

Liam shook his head and smirked, walking away from the chaos in the front room of the home and heading towards the kitchen where it was more quiet. “I'm a great actor Mr. Producer. I told you before, there's a lot you don't know about me.”

Zayn stood across Liam, the kitchen island between the two of them. He was infuriated, intrigued, but infuriated. “And all that shit with Chad?”

“You offer up sex that easily, I'm not gonna say no,” he replied nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. “Isn't that part of them game anyway? It's all for the ratings anyway.”

“You're fucking this whole thing up,” he huffed. “That's my job Money Bags, not yours.”

Liam spun on his heel, moving around the kitchen island to stand beside Zayn. “See, that’s what I don’t understand. You have a cushy job here and you want to sabotage it. Why?”

“You have a cushy life and you want to sabotage it. Why?” Zayn countered, eyebrows raised.

Liam pursued his lips and nodded. “Touché Mr. Producer.”

Zayn walked away, shaking his head in dismay. Liam Payne loves to bitch and moan that his life was hard, like he wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Like he didn’t have everything he ever wanted in life. Zayn knew struggle, he knew hardship. He was the only Muslim kid in his school, besides his older sister. The shit he would get on a daily basis from students and teachers would make anyone drop out or want to disappear completely, and that was only during grade school. Add being gay and things got worse. Crushing on the captain of the football team was fine if you kept it to yourself. Getting caught staring at him during chemistry class and you got yourself beat up after school in the boys bathroom. No one lending a hand, no one calling for helping. Going home and both parents hemming and hawing over what to do but not doing a thing. Life was shit for Zayn but he’d kill to have half of what Liam complained he had to go through. All his problems were self inflicted. He put himself in all his situations. The bottom line to all of Zayn’s crap was because who he was born as, a brown, Muslim, gay man.

“Good evening and welcome to Everlasting,” Niall smiled wide as the camera zoomed in on him.

It was another elimination night, another endlessly long night ahead of them all. Niall had already had his pow wow with Liam, going over each and every contestant to see how Liam was feeling about them. Zayn had to stand behind the cameras as they filmed, just in case Liam decided he needed something. If Zayn wanted to be a butler he would’ve never went to uni and made something of himself. He had to grin and bare it though, act like this job was a god sent. He was allowed to scoff and roll his eyes so it was a win/win situation. Niall was talking to all the contestants now, taking a pulse of the situation. Who was nervous, who felt confident. Shockingly Chad was walking around with his chest puffed out, overly confident that he was going to get a rose and move forward. Harry even looked like he had a pep in his step, head held high after his last meeting with Liam.

“Malik!” Louis called to him from behind the monitors. He waved his hands to get his attention. “Move your non existent ass here, stat!”

Zayn rolled his eyes as he cast one last glance Liam’s way. Liam was being tended to by hair and makeup before he was due on camera to break some hearts. “What’s up Lou?”

Louis grabbed Zayn’s arm and moved them to a semi secluded area. Nothing was ever fully secluded but after years working on a show like this, you learn where you can get a smidge of privacy. “What’s up with you and Payne?”

“Liam?” Zayn gawked with a laugh. He undid his hair and redid it to occupy his hands. He was aching for a cigarette or a drink, always did during elimination nights. It was long and daunting and way too emotional. “Payne’s a dick.”

“There’s cameras all over the place, babe,” Louis reminded him, an eyebrow raised. “It sees everything.”

“And you need your eyes checked,” he joked. “Does it see how much I despise Pretty Boy here? How he’s jeopardizing the entire production?”

“When have you cared about the production?” He snorted. “You hate this place as much as anyone else. You’re stuck here for a paycheck and cause you’re court mandated to.”

“And I’m doing my job like you asked,” Zayn told him. “Babysit Payne, which I’m doing. I think I’m excelling actually.”

Louis purses his lips together and nodded. “You are getting too close. You can’t be this blokes friend, okay?”

“Don’t worry,” he laughed, patting Louis’s face affectionately. “You’ll always be my best mate Lou.”

“Fuck off,” Louis huffed, pushing Zayn’s hand away. “Don’t be a prick, Malik.”

As the night rolled on like it would never end, Zayn kept a close eye on Louis and his movements. It seemed like Louis had one eye on production and one on him. It was creepy and totally unnecessary. Zayn was a professional, knew his boundaries. Despite his previous stumbles and incidents, he understood what his job entailed. He knew that he had to keep Liam in line, make sure he was present both physically and mentally at all times. There hadn’t been any major hiccups since he took over the assistant job. He couldn’t stop Liam from sleeping with Chad, even though he tried his hardest. And they were definitely not friends, far from it. They both yelled and screamed at each other any chance they got, what made Louis say such a thing? It was bizarre and insane.

The rose ceremony was as dramatic as always, Niall coming into the frame right on cue to add the suspense. Giving long monologues with just the right amount of pause for the contestants to wonder if they were going to go home. Chad got the first rose and some of the remaining contestants audibly groaned at the selection. It made for great television but grinded Zayn’s gears, the bloke was such a prick. Chad accepted his rose with the same false smile as he always had and kissed the side of Liam’s mouth, causing them both to giggle and blush. Gag. Liam was just as dense as Zayn and half of England predicted. Falling for the obvious mind games Chad was playing. Louis was eating it up, loving every single gross second of it. If camera weren’t rolling all the time and Zayn’s job wasn’t on the line, he’d love to just smack Chad right across the face. Treat him like the piece of shit he really was. No one liked him and it was fair to say no one outside the mansion, in his real life, like him either.

#my writing

[veryangryhedgehog]

“Mike Miller’s Second Day”, an Ede Valley story by Hedgehog.

Mike Miller’s second day at St. Adelaide’s School for Gifted Youth opened rather abruptly at approximately 3:30 in the morning. Gradually, a series of bumps and scraping noises jostled him awake. Not that he’d been really that asleep anyway, strange bed and all. Was someone trying to break in? If so, they were being awfully loud about it.

After a minute he rolled out of the small bed, and approached the door. Mike didn’t have anything to defend himself, but he played soccer. He could just kick them. That’s how it worked, right? To his still half-asleep mind, anything was possible.

Mike opened the door an inch and peeked outside. There was someone in the room, fumbling with Doug’s door. He almost went in to tackle the intruder, but as his eyes adjusted to the dark he caught the faint glow of white hair. It was Doug who was trying to break into Doug’s room. Wait. That wasn’t right. Mike blinked, trying to wake himself up more.

“...and herd. Seems to make it all just a little bit...” Doug mumbled to himself, fumbling with his key.

“Doug?” Mike asked, opening his door a little more.

Doug turned slowly, the mere quarter revolution almost seeming to make him dizzy. He blinked several times. “Oh, hey Mike,” his words slurred a little. “I... forgot you were here.”

Frowning, Mike took a step towards his roommate. “Dude, are you high?”

“What?” Doug leaned back dramatically, and almost fell over. “No, no. nononono. I’ve just had a rather... shocking evening.” He paused, as if he had just now processed the words that had come out of his mouth. “‘Shocking evening,’ that’s a good one.”

“Are you... sure you’re okay?” Mike asked. He certainly didn’t look okay.

“Oh, yeah.” Doug nodded lazily as he finally managed to get his key into the hole on the doorknob. “‘S nothing I ain’t used to.” The door opened, and Doug almost fell into the room. “Good night.”

Mike bit his lip as Doug’s door closed again. That, to say the least, was weird. He hadn’t really seemed drunk or high. That was... something else. But he shook himself. What Doug got up to was really none of Mike’s business. He was older than him anyway. Mike was concerned, but there was nothing he could do about it right now at 3:30 in the morning. He went back into his room, plopped down on the tiny, hard bed, and tried to go back to sleep.

He maybe got another hour or so of shut-eye before his alarm woke him at seven. Mike had never been able to sleep well in new places, but knowing this didn’t make getting up any easier. Breakfast wasn’t until eight, but Mike wanted to give himself extra time to make sure he wasn’t late. He didn’t need it, because fifteen minutes later, Mike found himself all ready with a lot of time to kill. Eventually he decided to take a walk in order to shake off the weirdness of this morning.

Briefly, Mike considered asking Doug to go with him, but he found his door shut with the light off. He decided that it would probably be best to let him work off whatever he was on earlier. So he passed by Doug’s room and went out into the hallway.

It was cloudy and dark out, he could tell right away from the lack of light in the common room ahead of him. What lovely weather for his first day of class. The common room seemed devoid of life, at least to the point when he reached the stairs. Just then, Jilli unpeeled herself from the shadows in the corner and smiled, waving.

“Good morning, Mi-kun,” her grin widened as an exasperated look crossed Mike’s face. “You’re up early.”

“I don’t sleep well in new places,” he said, a little lamely. “I could say the same for you.”

“I don’t sleep well period.” She laughed, a little bitterly. “Comes from years of 5AM rehearsals, I guess.”

Mike’s eyes widened. “Were they really that early? I mean, I’ve heard some stuff about the idol industry, but that just seems too crazy.”

“No, it’s true. When you’re an idol, you have to live and breathe your work,” she explained. “You start to feel like a singing robot, or a certain voice synthesizer.” They both chuckled a little at that. “And sometimes it gets a little... claustrophobic.”

“How so?”

“Well, the managers and agents can be a little overbearing,” Jilli made a strange face. “Our image is controlled even more so than a lot of pop singers over here. We can’t even have boyfriends. Of course, most of us did anyway, but the pressure and paranoia tend to get to you after a while. I remember a lot of girls having really nasty breakups when their managers found out, or when they couldn’t take the secrecy anymore.”

Shaking his head, Mike’s eyebrows knitted together. “Jeez,” he said. “Sounds really depressing.”

“It is,” she admitted. “But you know, I do really miss it. The singing, I mean, and the performance. I was just about to graduate before my, uh, incident. If I’d been able to hang in just a little longer, I might have been able to become a solo artist.”

“You still could.” Mike smiled. “I haven’t heard you sing, but I’m sure a lot of people would want to hear it.”

Jilli laughed, though there was a hint of sadness behind it. “You’re a sweet kid, Mi-kun,” she patted him on the head. “But, enough about me. It’s almost time for breakfast. Have you seen Doug?” She noticed Mike’s sudden frown immediately.

“He was... out really late last night and, uh, came in a little messed up,” Mike confessed. “I thought it was probably best to just leave him alone.”

“Good call,” Jilli nodded. “It was most likely one of his sessions.”

“Sessions?”

She grimaced. “Yeah, there’s an on-site staff of psychiatrists here.” She paused momentarily as Mike’s face twisted in confusion. “Rich kid school,” was the only explanation she needed to give. “Only the best for our screwy little brains.”

But Mike was still concerned. “So, Doug...”

“I mean, he’s Doug,” she shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve never noticed anything explicitly ‘wrong’ with him. But who knows. All I know is that every once in a while, those creepy people in white lab coats come to take him away, and he comes back all fucked up. He’s always back to his annoying self soon enough though.” Jilli tried to appear nonplussed, but Mike could tell that she was worried.

“What can we do to help?”

“Pff, hell if I know,” she said with a hint of frustration. “He never talks about it. Believe me, we’ve all asked. Victor, Sonia, you name it, not a word.” Jilli shook her head. “But if he really needs help, he’ll come to us. Anyway, should we get going? Sometimes they give out donuts to the early kids.”

Unfortunately, there were no donuts on this particular morning, just a large, drab room with many tables of assorted sizes scattered around its area. Metal beams stretched across the high ceiling, casting unnatural half-shadows on the tile floor. The cafeteria was about a third of the way full of students milling about or eating an early breakfast.

From somewhere in the quiet crowd, Sonia stood and waved to the two of them, and Mike followed Jilli over to a round table in a small, out of the way corner. “Good morning, Jilli, Mike,” Sonia beamed. “Is beautiful day, da?” Ah, so that’s where the sun went. Sonia had stolen it all from the sky.

“Beautiful?” Mike glanced out the long, thin windows to the vaguely miserable skyline. “I don’t know about that, but whatever you...” He broke off as he turned back to see that Sonia was no longer looking at him. Instead, her gaze was drifting away towards an empty corner, her eyes glassy, as if trying to see something she couldn’t quite make out. “Uh, Sonia? Are you—?”

“It’s alright, she does that sometimes.” Jilli waved it off. “We told you about it yesterday, didn’t we?”

Mike nodded, remembering. “That’s right, you did. Is she gonna be okay?”

“She’ll be fine,” rumbled a deep voice as Gil came up behind them. He put his hands on her shoulders. “Sonia?” He whispered, and her eyes fluttered a bit as she focused again.

“Oh, Gil,” she smiled again. “Good morning. I apologize,” Sonia bowed her head towards Mike and Jilli. “I was just, uh...” she looked confused herself. “Never mind.”

“Clearly, it was a spirit attempting to contact you from beyond the mortal realm.” Gil said sagely, placing himself in the chair next to her with that smooth, nearly catlike way which he did most things. “You must remember that you are most sensitive to these things, my lady. I will do some research in my Tomes of Knowledge and we shall see if we can communicate with it.”

“You really think it’s possible?” Sonia’s eyes widened. “Ooo, I can’t wait! I am wondering what kind of spirit it is? Perhaps a Viking! Great warrior with magic sword!”

Gil nodded. “Indeed. The possibilities are endless.”

Mike couldn’t help noticing how his smile fell half an inch, but at that moment, Jilli turned to him, raising an eyebrow, and they laughed silently as Gil and Sonia kept up their dialogue.

One by one, they went to get breakfast, and Mike couldn’t help noticing the gathering of faceless men and women in lab coats that were surrounding the perimeter of the room. They must have been the psychiatrists that Jilli was talking about. By the time the cafeteria was mostly full, there must have been a good ten to fifteen of them. Mike didn’t like it; they gave him the heebie-jeebies. But none of the others seemed particularly disturbed by their presence, so he tried to ignore the growing feeling of unease in his gut.

Just as Jilli got back to the table with a plateful of fruit and waffles, one of the psychiatrists moved to the platform on the far side of the room. The students quickly fell silent, so much so that you could have heard a pin drop. “And now,” the psychiatrist said, “a word from the Director.”

There was a crackle, and a burst of static that reverberated around the room. Mike looked up to follow the noise, and saw for the first time the speakers perched in the upper corners of the room. A strange noise came through suddenly, like someone clearing their throat, but he couldn’t quite tell because it sounded so distorted.

“Good morning, students. The new semester is here at last.” The voice boomed across the room, altered by static and modulation, but decidedly female. Probably something about its tone and inflections, Mike decided. “To those now joining us, welcome to St. Adelaide’s. To those old faces, welcome back to your home away from home.”

Jilli scoffed, and even Gil rolled his eyes. Sonia, on the other hand, had zoned out again.

Mike didn’t like this. The voice sounded pleasant enough, but there was something about it, something Mike couldn’t quite put his finger on. There were shivers running up and down his spine.

“Remember that you are all the most gifted students in the country, possibly the world, and we look to you all as the hope of the future. And it anyone has any concerns, questions, or snide remarks, feel free to talk to the friendly men and women in lab coats. They are here to help.”

The Director continued on for a few minutes, mentioning a few other events and announcements relevant to the student body at large, before finally wrapping up her address. “Thank you as always for your patience,” she said, “and enjoy your first day of the new semester.”

With another small crackle, the speakers fell silent, and gradually the students began to converse once more. “Well,” Mike muttered, “that wasn’t ominous at all.”

Jilli and Sonia both began to laugh. “Do not worry,” Sonia reassured him. “You will become used to it after a while.”

“I’m not sure I want to.” He frowned. “It all seems a little ‘Big Brother’ to me.”

“What sort of daemonic older brother do you have?” Gil asked, looking horrified.

Jilli sighed. “1984, Gil.”

He blinked. “Ah, yes. Of course. My apologies.”

The four continued talking as they ate breakfast, which if Mike was honest, was not very good. The texture of Aunt Marma’s Totally Genuine Maple Syrup™ stuck to the roof of his mouth. Finally, Jilli looked up at the clock and saw the time.

“Well,” she stretched, “first period begins soon. What’ve you got, Mike?”

“Uh...” he pulled out the slightly crumpled piece of paper from his pocket which had his schedule. “Ugh, Algebra II.”

“What instructor have you been assigned to?” Gil asked.

“Vantas,” Mike added after looking back at the paper.

Gil nodded, a determined expression settling into his pale features. “Then this is a battle we share, my friend. If you would have it, I would accompany you to our battlefield.”

As he blinked, Mike wasn’t sure he’d gotten a word of that. “Uh...”

“He has the same class,” Sonia translated. “He wants to know if you want to walk there together.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Gil bowed his head as he took her hand. “That was my question exactly.”

“Oh, um, sure! Thanks.”

Jilli stood, grabbing her trey. “Well, Sonia and I are off to choir, see you losers later.” She waved. “Oh, and Mike, tell Doug hi for me if you see him, yeah?”

“Will do,” he nodded, standing as well.

“You coming, Sonia?”

“I will catch up with you in few,” she smiled, before beginning to zone out again.

Gil’s gaze seemed to linger on her for a moment before he shook himself. “Come, young apprentice,” he said to Mike, his coat swishing dramatically as he began to walk. “The battle of mathematics awaits us.”

Mike would have probably gotten lost in the crowd had it not been for the fact that Gil stood out like a sore thumb. Students seemed to give him space wherever he walked. He didn’t seem to mind. Gradually, as the crowd broke away into the various directions of their classes, Mike was able to hear himself think again. Gil was silent a few steps ahead of him, seemingly lost in thought. Mike wondered just what went on in his head. He seemed like a really smart guy, so why did he persist in his delusions? Did he honestly believe that he was a warlock with infinite power? Or was there some other reason? Mike didn’t think he had the guts to outright ask him.

“So, Sonia,” he asked instead. That was what guys talked about, right? “Are you two—?”

“Our love transcends time and space,” he intoned. “I have loved her for four-thousand years, and I will love her for four-thousand more.”

“So, it’s complicated, huh?” Mike didn’t know what to say to this guy. He felt like he was stuck in the middle of a role-playing game with method actors.

There was almost no one in the hallway anymore, and Mike was sure he’d seen that motivational cat poster just a second ago. This place was like a maze. “Hey Gil,” he asked. “Are you sure we’re going the right...?”

Gil looked to the left and the right, then abruptly turned on his heel to face Mike. “A warning for you, Michael Miller.” His golden eye almost seemed to freeze Mike in place. “Your wariness of this place is not unwarranted. Don’t ignore your intuition. It may just save your life.” He wasn’t joking. “There are forces at work in this school that will attempt to pull your very being apart. I’ve been affected by it, Sonia, that ignoramus you call a roommate, all of us have. If I were you, I’d watch where you step.” It was not a threat, more like a warning. Gil seemed genuinely worried. And for a moment, Mike thought that he might actually understand what he was trying to say.

But the second passed as quickly as it came, and Gild grinned knowingly once more. “Now, on to slay this dragon built of overly complicated equations.” He started walking again, laughing manically, and after hesitating for a moment, Mike followed him.

Needless to say, he didn’t pay any attention during class that day as teachers handed out syllabi and repeated the same information over and over until Mike thought he’d never forget that three absences equaled a tardy. But he had too many questions running through his mind to care about any of that. He had had this lingering feeling that something was strange here, off even, except that everyone around him seemed so used to it that he thought he might be the weird one. “Don’t ignore your intuition,” Gill had told him.

But wait, why was he listening to Gil? He was delusional! It was probably just one of his wizard roleplaying things again. Yet something about what he’d said, the look in his eyes, the sincerity of his words. Gil had known what he was talking about. That hadn’t been some sort of weird fantasy metaphor, Mike could somehow tell. He was right, something was wrong here, Mike could feel it. And he thought the others could too, even if they didn’t talk about it.

There were so many mysteries, so many questions left unanswered. Mike decided to make a list. That would help him organize his thoughts.

1). Who was the Director? Yes, she was a crazy, modulated voice over a speaker system, but why? Why bother hiding her face and voice from the student body? It certainly made her intimidating and slightly creepy, but wasn’t enough of a reason by itself.

2). The psychiatrists. He didn’t know of any other school that needed ten of them. And the explanation of “rich kid school” simply didn’t cut it. To be honest, they seemed more like a security force than a group of doctors.

3). Why was everyone here so weird? Not just in their personalities, though the school was nearly stranger than a superhero’s rogue’s gallery in that respect. But more so in the way everyone seemed so nonplussed about all of these other questions Mike had. They didn’t care about the psychiatrists, or the Director, or the other host of strange things. Or maybe they were just really good at hiding it. And finally,

4). Doug. What the hell were they doing to him in his “sessions” that made him act like that? He’d hardly been able to walk properly. In addition, though he hadn’t really known him for that long, it seemed entirely out of Doug’s character to not talk to anybody about it. Most importantly, why was everyone not harassing him about it non-stop until he gave in and told them what was going on? That was the only way that they could help him, after all.

Maybe these questions wouldn’t be so confusing after he’d been here for a few months, but to be honest, he didn’t want to become numb to the strangeness like everyone else. He couldn’t handle not knowing these things. And if no one was going to help him, then he guessed that he’d just have to find the answers himself.

Of all the questions he had, one stuck out as the easiest to answer: Doug. He also had the distinct feeling that if he answered this one question, then all the others would begin to fall into place. Like dominos.

The rest of the day passed slower than paint drying, all of the thoughts and confusion cycling through his mind every time he saw a lab coat pass, especially whenever the students turned away from them. Finally, classes were done for the day, the final bell rang, and according to his schedule there was an hour before dinner. So Mike headed back across the snowy path to the dorm. Maybe Doug would be feeling better by now. Either way he needed to drop off his backpack, which was as good an excuse as any.

The light was on in the room, Mike could see it in the wide gap in the bottom of the door from the end of the hallway. At the very least, Doug was up. Mike didn’t know if he had known him for long enough to just knock on his door, but he ended up being lucky. When he pushed open the heavy door, Mike turned to see Doug at the bathroom mirror, trying in vain to smooth down his hair. He hadn’t noticed this morning in the dark, but now Mike saw that Doug’s hair was now even more static-y and gravity-defying than it had been yesterday. His sweatshirt sleeves were pulled up to prevent them getting wet, and Mike couldn’t help noticing a strange, metallic bracelet on his right wrist as it caught the bathroom light.

“Oh, hey Mike,” Doug grinned lazily as he saw him though the mirror. His speech was still a little slow, but he seemed much more normal now. Or at least, normal for Doug anyway. “How was your first day of class? Want to jump off a bridge yet?”

He didn’t even know, but Mike decided not to open that can of worms just yet. Maybe just peek inside the lid. “Almost,” he nodded instead. “Maybe give it another day.” Alright, now was the time. “Hey, so what happened last night? You were in really late.”

Doug paused for a second, before rolling his sleeves back down and turning to properly face Mike. “I’m sure the others told you about my ‘sessions’ right? Jilli, I’m guessing.”

“Two for two.” Mike nodded.

Sighing, Doug shook his head. “Listen,” he began, “the last guy I told even a little about what really goes on in this place, he disappeared. Just gone from the dorm one day and never came back. I don’t want that to happen to you, or any of the others. The only reason I’m even telling you this much is because I know you’ll just keep asking about it if I don’t. You’re that kinda guy, right?”

Mike looked down sheepishly. There went his whole plan down the toilet. “That makes three. But if you tell us, maybe we can help you.”

Much to his surprise, Doug started laughing. Whatever the joke was, Mike didn’t get it. “Your optimism is admirable,” Doug admitted. “But in this case, optimism alone won’t cut it. If I tell you not to go asking questions you’ll probably just do it anyway, so I’ll say this instead: keep your head down, Mike. That’s the only way you’ll get out of this place alive.”

He began to scoot past him towards the door. “Now, I hear that Jilli and the nerds are playing a rousing game of Dungeons and Dragons. So I’m gonna go crash it. If you want to come along, first one in gets to make the wizard cry.”

As he watched Doug wheel himself out of the room, Mike hesitated. That was the second vague warning he’d received today, and Mike wasn’t sure whose advice to follow. Doug told him to keep his head down, but Gil had told him to trust his intuition, which in turn was telling him to start asking questions and solving mysteries.

As much as Doug warned him against it, Mike really wanted to help him, and part of him couldn’t ignore the weirdness of this place. So, okay, he guessed he’d step carefully, but that didn’t mean he had to stop asking questions.

“Yeah,” he grinned at Doug, who was waiting in the doorway. “Let’s do it. I’ve always wanted to make a paladin fall.”

#Ede Valley #Mike Miller #Jilli Nakjima #Sonia Valentina Borozovna #Gil Trenton #The Director #Doug Bailey #'Heelies for his feelies' still gets me every time I think about it #btw the song Doug's always singing is The Scene and Herd by Relient K #It's really good #and may possibly have spoilers

[adralockhartfanfic]

Grandier & Grandier Law

I slipped the pillow off my head, my alarm clock blared 'Always by Killswitch Engage' through speakers of my sound system. My hand sleepy smacked the table next to my bed, finally hitting the alarm clock shutting it off. I yawned sleepily sitting up in bed, I heard the door of my bedroom open, in walked my best friend since grade school and roommate Giles.

“Adra wake up you can't be late on your first day”

I rubbed my eye, looking at him. Fully clothed, punctual as always.

“I'm up, I'm up”

He dug through my closet and threw clothes at me,

“Here wear this, if your late it will look bad on both of us.”

Giles left, I went to the bathroom to change. I walked out of my bedroom, grabbing my briefcase that was on the table Giles pushed me from behind out the door. We arrived at the tall office building the huge sign outside read 'Grandier and Associates' I shrunk back, I was nervous as hell. I recently graduated law school and this was my first job since, I  never imagined I would be working for such a huge firm. Giles stood at the doors,

“Adra come on lets go”

I breathed out slowly and stepped inside the building Giles following closely behind me. We rode the elevator the thirteenth floor, it stopped with a jolt. The doors opened with a ding, there stood two men in suits. The one with short black hair stood with his head cocked clearly annoyed, talking viciously to the person on the other end of his cell phone. The other looked down at his cell phone scrolling through the screen, strands of his black hair falling in his face that wasn't held back in his ponytail. Giles stepped past them and waited for me, the man with long hair, looked up and our eyes locked. His sapphire eyes pierced right through me. I was stunned I couldn't move, I felt my face turning multiple shades of red. He smiled softly, making me melt. I felt a tug on my arm,

“I'm sorry Mr.Grandier, Lockhart lets go”

Giles pulled me by the arm and out of the elevator past the man. The strange man grabbed my free hand stopping me in my tracks,

“Lockhart?  Adra Lockhart?”

“Um-yes”

“So your the new recruit, I'm pleased to meet you”

He took my hand and pressed it against his lips. I blushed profusely,

“I-um”

“How silly of me, I'm Sean Grandier.”

“Yo Sean lets go we have court in fifteen minutes”

The other man yelled holding the elevator doors.

“I'm coming Sid. Its great to have you with us. We will talk later okay”

I bowed slightly and smiled,

“Sure”

He waved as he disappeared behind the closing doors of the elevator. I stood in shock, watching the closed doors. I felt a smack on my back,

“Nice first impression on the boss Adra”

Giles chuckled  heartily.

“Shut up Giles”

I sat at my desk in my new office, Giles had given me a new case to look over. I was to be his second chair, for his upcoming trial. I read through the case file, I briefly looked up at the clock and realized it had been hours since I moved, I rubbed my temples feeling a headache coming on.

“Ugh”

I sighed softly. Someone knocked softly on the door. I figured it was Giles coming to check up on me.

“What do you want Christophe?”

“Well I'm not Giles for one, but I did want to know if you would join me for lunch”

I looked up to see the owner of the voice, I stood up quickly.

“Oh Mr. Grandier. I'm sorry I dint realize it was you”

“Call me Sean please”

He smiled as he tucked his hair behind his ear. I could see his perfectly chiseled face, his adorable dimples graced his face as he smiled. I felt my cheeks heat up, I looked down trying to hide my embarrassment.

“I would love to but, Giles asked me to look over this. I'm going to be his second chair for this trial. And I want to do well, since this is my first case.”

“I see, what case is it?”

“People V Howard”

He stepped beside me peeking at the documents spread across the desk. He leaned in close over my shoulder our faces mere inches from each other. I breathed in the manly smell of his cologne. I tried desperately to still my racing heart, it rang in my ears so loud I was sure he could hear it himself.

“Ah the mob boss is finally on trial for all those murders. That's a big case Adra”

I melted hearing him say my name,

“Uh-yeah it is”

He patted me on the back,

“Well I will take a rain check on the lunch until your done with the case, okay? Do your best and put that bastard away”

He smiled and waved leaving my office. I fell back into my chair with a sigh, my heart slowly returned to normal. Jeez, he didn't have to be so close to me. I thought I was going to faint,

“Jesus Christ, what a day.”

I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and picked up the file once more scanning through the evidence we had on Louis Howard. Before I knew it the clock read six in the evening and it was already getting dark outside.

“Hey you ready to go home?”

Giles came in and plopped down on the sofa. He cracked his neck back and forth,

“Yeah I'm ready”

I picked up the papers and shut them in my briefcase. Stepping out into the hall, I noticed we were the last to leave. The office seemed eerily quite, expect the soft sounds of a piano playing in the distance. I cocked my head to the sounds,

“Looks like Sean is still here. He listens to symphonies when he is working”

“Oh I see”

I followed Giles into the waiting elevator, we arrived at home I fell face first  onto the couch exhausted. I let out a sigh of relief to feel the soft fabric against my skin. I rolled over to see Giles standing behind the couch, staring down at me. He smiled mischievously, I instantly rolled my eyes at him.

“Stop looking at me like that”

“I didn't say anything”

He laughed softly,

“Do you want something to eat?”

“Nah I think I'm just going to make smoothie and head to bed, I'm exhausted.”

“I'll make you a nutritious one, just relax you had an eventful first day”

He snickered,

“Fuck you Giles”

“I love you too bitch”

I closed my eyes as he went into the kitchen, I heard the blender start up and my consciousness slowly faded to black. Giles came back with a smoothie in his hand,

“Adra, are you already asleep?”

He watched her chest rise and fall slowly, her eyelids twitched slightly. He sat the glass down on the coffee table and walked to the linen closet. He came back with a fluffy blanket and threw it over her, he slipped her heels off her feet and tucked the blanket under her feet. He leaned down and kissed her forehead,

“Sleep well Princess”

He grabbed the glass sipping the contents and headed to his room. I awoke the next morning to the sun shining in my eyes from the living room window. I sleepily sat up and rubbed my eyes, I yawned and realized I was sleeping on the couch. Giles was quietly reading a newspaper at the dining room table.

“What the hell why didn't you wake me up?”

Giles laid down his newspaper, turned in his chair and looked at me. He grinned sheepishly,

“You looked so peaceful, I couldn't bring myself to wake you up”

“Ugh”

He looked down at his watch,

“By the way you have twenty minutes to get ready”

“What the fuck”

I jumped off the couch tripping over the blanket as I tried to scramble to my room. I heard Giles dying of laughter behind me, I quickly got dressed and somehow had five minutes to spare. I shoved the scrambled eggs and bacon into my mouth that Giles had prepared for me before running out the door behind him. The next few days went by in a flash and the court date finally came. I stood in the elevator with Giles trying to breathe deeply to calm my nerves. He looked down at me,

“You will be fine, I promise”

He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. I smiled in response and breathed out slowly.

“Lets do this then”

I held my head high and walked into the court room, taking my seat at the prosecutors table next to Giles. A blonde man sat with his lawyer at the defense table, so this is Louis Howard. He was handsome, his clear blue eyes met mine and I quickly looked away. Giles leaned over and whispered into my ear,

“Looks like someone came to see your first case”

He motioned with his eyes to the seat behind us. I turned and looked over my shoulder, there sat Sean three benches behind us. He gave me a reassuring smile, I heard Giles beside me

“Looks like someone likes you”

“Shut up Giles, we aren't in high school anymore”

The bailiff entered the court room, followed by the judge, Byron Wagner. In his commanding voice he said,

“All rise!”

I stood with Giles and the others, watching the young man take his seat. I sat down and listened to Giles give his opening statement to the jury,

“Ladies and gentleman of the jury, today you will be presented with undoubted evidence and testimony that Louis Howard the notorious mob boss, tortured and killed three innocence people in cold blood. You will hear expert testimony linking him to the crimes by blood and fingerprints.”

Giles sat back down, the defense attorney and delivered his opening statement. I barely listened at all I was looking through the file, sorting out our witness list. After he was finished, he returned to his seat. Giles stood,

“The people call Robert Branche”

The man stepped through the doors and took his seat on the witness stand. Giles began to question the man about his relation to Louis and his whereabouts on the night in question. He was Louis' right hand man in the mob, sending out kill orders and making sure they went through, if not taking care of it himself. We had granted him immunity on all charges for his crimes for his testimony against Louis. Which the defense challenged on cross examination, stating that only reason he is saying these things about his client, was that his immunity was at stake if he didn't. We called the medical examiner next, she outlined the details of the murders, how each one had been killed with the same nine millimeter gun, one bullet to the head. After being beaten and tortured for hours. We broke for lunch at noon, I stepped outside the courtroom,

“You guys did great for the first day”

Sean said walking up behind me,

“Keep this up and we will definitely win this case”

He smiled brightly leaving towards the elevator. I grabbed a quick lunch before court came back in session. After two more witnesses, court adjourned for the day. The defense lawyer approached us outside along with is client.

“Ten to fifteen Christophe”

“Not a chance Timmons”

I spoke up resolve in my voice,

“If I have anything to do with it your client is going to prison for the rest of his life”

Louis looked at us visibly angered at our refusal, Giles gave me a quick slap on the back with a smile. I headed back to the office looking over documents. I went to Giles' office to ask him a question on the case, but he was now where to be found.

“Hmm...where could he be”

I pulled out my cellphone and called his number, the line trilled dully as I heard the sound of Beethoven's ninth symphony play in the background behind me. I saw a dim light shining under Sean's office door, I didn't notice Giles had already picked up the phone,

“Adra? Hello? Did you pocket dial me again?”

“Oh, I spaced out for a moment. Where are you? I had question about the case and”

“You are going to have to handle the case on your own”

“WHAT?”

My voice almost a scream into the phone, I could visualize Giles holding the phone away from his ear. His voice was hoarse,

“I got food poisoning from something I ate at lunch, I can barely crawl out of bed much less handle a court case”

“Dammit”

“What did you need to know about the case?”

“Its nothing, I'll figure it out. You rest and get better soon, Ill be home later okay”

“Yeah, goodnight”

“Goodnight”

I hung up the phone and softly beat my head against the wall beside his office. I felt a pit in my stomach, so I'm solo on Monday. Caught up in my despair I hadn't heard the door to Sean's office open.

“Adra your still here?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin at his voice. I turned to see him standing in the doorway, his undone tie hung loosely around his neck, the top few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, his hair laid perfectly against his shoulders free from its elastic prison. He looked amazing, I could do nothing but stare.

“You okay?”

He asked concerned, I quickly regained my composure,

“Uh yeah. I was looking for Giles and I guess he is at home sick. So I guess I'm first chair Monday at the trial. Looks like my weekend is ruined”

I blew out a puff of air. The stress was unbearable, I only have two days to prepare for this. Sean cleared his throat,

“Grab your papers, maybe I can help you prepare. This is your first case solo, I remember how nervous I was”

“I don't want to be a nuisance, I'm sure your busy with your own case”

“Nonsense”

He went back inside the door. I grabbed the paperwork on my desk and went to his office, he sat on the sofa and motioned me to sit beside him. I sat down and laid out the papers on the table in front of us.

“Hold on one second”

He stood and moved to turn off the music,

“Oh please leave it on, Beethoven is my favorite composer.”

“Oh really?”

He smiled and made himself and I a drink. He sat the strong whiskey down in front of me. The scent burned my nose,

“I don't think I should be drinking at work”

“Don't be silly, its not like the boss is going to catch you”

He said chuckling with a wink of his eye,

“Besides it will help you relax a little”

I smiled and took a small sip as he sat back down beside me. Time passed quickly as we went over the case together,I was on my third glass of whiskey already. In truth I was drunk, but it was nice sitting with Sean talking about nothing in particular,

“Wow you play violin?”

“Yeah my mother made me learn when I was little, she thought it would make me more cultured.”

“Heh, she sounds like my mom”

“What did your mother force you to play?”

“I learned the piano, but I soon fell in love with sound. Beethoven and Mozart quickly became my favorite composers. I even wrote a small symphony once.”

“Your amazing Adra and your are full of surprises”

I laughed lightly as leaned closer to me,

“I'm not that exciting”

I felt his breath on my cheek,

“You have to let me hear you play”

“Heh, only if you let me hear you”

I smiled shyly, my face turning different shades of red. I happened to look up at the clock it was almost midnight.

“Wow its getting late. I'd better get home before Giles calls for a search party”

I started to stand but fell right back into the couch. Sean tilted his head back against the couch and laughed,

“I don't think your going to make it home tonight. Your drunk”

“And whose fault is that?”

I puffed my cheeks out irritated at him. I rubbed my temples in annoyance.

“Look I'll call my driver to take you home, okay? Just stay here while I call him”

“Fine”

I laid my head back against the couch as he got up to call his driver, I quickly drifted off to sleep. Sean turned around to ask Adra her address,

“Adra? Damn she is asleep, never mind I'll just take her home with me. Yeah I'm sure, I'll meet you downstairs in five”

Sean walked over to her sleeping body and picked her up in his arms and carried her to his waiting limousine. I moved around in bed feeling the cool touch silk sheets against my skin. The bed beneath me so soft that it felt like it was sucking me in. My eyes snapped open, wait my bed is hard as a rock and my sheets are cotton not silk, where the hell am I?  I cautiously pulled the blankets from my head, I laid in a four poster bed canopy bed, black lace hung down touching the floor. The lace blurred my vision of the rest of the room, the sky was a deep blue outside the sun hadn't even risen yet. I parted the lace and stepped out of the bed. Air chilled my naked legs, I quickly realized I was wearing an over sized shirt that hung all the way to my knees, I panicked. Holy shit where are my clothes?  What the hell happened last night? I quickly rummaged through the huge room looking any article of my clothing. I didn't notice Sean was sleeping on the couch that sat underneath the window. I tripped over an ottoman  sending me crashing to the floor,

“Ow dammit”

I sat  on the floor holding my knee, Sean sat up and saw Adra on the ground. He watched as she resumed her search crawling around on the floor,

“Adra?”

I stopped dead in my tracks, oh shit who is that. Sean turned on a lamp that sat on a table beside the couch. I slowly looked in the direction of the light. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw his face. I fell back on my butt,

“You scared the life out of me Sean”

“I'm sorry, you fell asleep in my office. I didn't know where you lived so I brought you home with me.”

I quickly panicked,

“Did we, uh?”

I motioned my finger back and forth between him and I. He smiled broadly,

“No, no. I was a perfect gentleman. I slept on this couch all night”

I let out a breath, relieved that nothing happened. Sean rubbed his neck roughly,

“So it would have been terrible if it had?”

“No that's not it, I mean I would want to remember it if we did, uh-I ugh never mind”

My face flushed red, I heard him laugh as I hid my face in my knees,

“I'm just teasing you, I would want you to remember too”

I thought my heart was going to explode in my chest, he knelt down in front of me lifting my head from my lap. His gaze intense, my breathing quickened he was so close I thought our lips would touch any moment. Then he whispered his breath hot against my lips,

“Lets get you dressed”

He stood and walked out of the room, I sat there stupid look on my face. What the hell was that? I quickly got up and followed after him to the living room, Sid sat on the couch in nothing but pajama pants eating a cold slice of pizza watching the morning news. Our eyes locked,

“Your the new girl.”

“I-uh yeah”

He yelled over the back of the couch,

“Damn Sean you work quick don't you?”

“Nothing happened Sid”

“Mind if I move in then?”

He smiled mischievously starting to get up off the couch,

“Back off Sid”

“Dammit”

He fell back onto the couch and started to channel surfing paying me no mind. I held my face in my hands and quickly shuffled past him. I found Sean in the dining room, looking through women's clothing. I cocked my head to the side,

“Whats this?”

“Oh, I told my driver your size and had him pick out some clothes for you. I hope you don't mind.”

I ran my fingers across the fabric, I picked up a cute black v neck tee. The price tag fell from the neck, a hundred and fifty dollars?

“Sean I can't accept these, they are too expensive”

“Nonsense, a princess should be spoiled like one”

“Sean I'm no princess”

“Of course you are, every woman is.”

His words made me smile, he handed me a pair of ripped up blue jeans.

“Those we go perfectly together, go take a shower, the guest bathroom is in there”

He pointed down the hall,

“After your ready we will go have breakfast,”

“Sean I have to go home”

“I promise I will take you home after breakfast”

He flashed me a bright smile, I couldn't resist him. I went and took a hot shower, truthfully I needed it. The hot water cascaded down my back relieving any stress still built up in my shoulders. I stepped out and dried off, I put the clothes on that Sean had bought for me. My hair still damp I stepped out of the bathroom and made my way to the kitchen where I heard  the sound of cups clinking together. Sean stood behind the island pouring coffee into two mugs, he was freshly showered, his black hair still damp the fresh scent of his cologne tickled my nose. I exhaled opening my eyes, he was staring at me not saying a word. I felt increasingly uncomfortable,

“What is it?”

“Nothing you look beautiful is all”

I looked down at my feet,

“Coffee?”

He held the cup out to me,

“Yes please”

I took the mug and sipped the delicious contents. After finishing our coffee we went to a little cafe, the smell of fresh baked pastries made my stomach growl in an unladylike like manner. I grabbed it hoping Sean didn't hear, a young lady showed us to our seat and took our orders.

“This place has the best breakfast food I have ever eaten”

“It smells delicious in here”

I smiled softly taking in the scenery of the cafe, the smells, the artwork, and the chatter of happy people. Sean watched Adra as she looked at the paintings on the walls, running her fingers across the wall next to her painted with a mural. His chest suddenly felt warm watching her,

“Hey Adra”

“Hmm?”

I continued to trace my fingers across the lines of the mural on the wall.

“Do you want to go to the art museum after this?”

Sean hoped she would say yes, he didn't want to let her go.

“I would love to, but I need to check up on Giles”

“Oh I see”

He looked down clearly disappointed, a pit formed deep in his stomach. He looked up at Adra, her face conflicted.

“Hey how about this, I'll go with you to check on Giles and if everything is okay, then we can go to the museum.”

Her face lit up,

“Deal”

We finished our breakfast and headed to my apartment, it was substantially smaller than his. I started to feel anxious about him coming up. We rode the elevator silently to the fifth floor, I walked to my door sliding the key into the lock. I opened the door and stepped in, thank god the place is actually clean for once.

“Giles, you here?”

I called out loudly throwing my keys on the table by the door,

“Yeah I'm in here”

His voice coming from his bedroom. I went to his bedroom and saw him lying in bed a pale sweaty mess,

“God you look terrible”

“I would tell you the same but your looking hot mama, who are you looking all sexy for?”

Sean stepped in the door behind me,

“Oh I see”

Giles said under his breath, I rolled my eyes instinctively.

“What do I owe the pleasure of your visit Sean?”

“Adra needed to check up on you, before I took her to the museum”

I looked over at Sean,

“Only if your well enough to leave to leave you alone that is”

“I'm fine, I called Alyn. So he should be here soon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes you kids have fun”

I kissed his forehead and left, Sean stayed behind,

“Get better soon Giles”

“I will and you take care of Adra”

“I will”

I ran into Alyn while leaving,

“Hey Alyn”

“Adra, hows he doing?”

“Being a drama queen as always”

We both stood there laughing as Sean entered the room,

“Ah Alyn this Sean, our boss and Sean this Alyn, Giles' partner.”

They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Giles called for Alyn from his bedroom, I giggled,

“Good luck”

Alyn rolled his eyes and waved us goodbye,

“Thanks”

We left the apartment, walking through the streets of downtown. I felt like I was in my own world with Sean, even through the hustle and bustle of people roared around us. I felt a drop of rain hit the tip of my nose causing me to look up, then the rain began to pour down, I squeaked,

“Oh god that's cold”

“Come on this way”

Sean grabbed my hand and lead us into the park taking shelter under a gazebo. I t was raining so hard I could barely see the figures of people walking. I looked over to Sean, his hair was dripping wet clinging to his face, his white shirt was completely transparent. I could clearly see the outline of his muscles, my body was growing hot in contrast to the goosebumps the littered my bare skin.

“Damn where did this rain come from?”

“Heh, figures it would rain with my luck”

I tore my eyes from the erotic sight which was Sean. I shivered as the wind blew past us, chilling my skin even further. I felt Sean's arms wrap around me, my face pressed against his chest. My heart began beating rapidly,

“You must be freezing”

“I'm okay”

“Just let me warm you up”

I looked up at Sean his eyes meeting mine, our faces drew closer to each other like magnets that couldn't be pulled away from each other. Our lips touched as a rumble of thunder boomed across the sky. I felt electricity course through my lips to my toes. He pulled away leaving me breathless, his forehead touching my own. His breath hot and ragged on my nose as I looked up into his eyes, our lips met again and again in hot feverish attempt to overpower the other. Before I knew it I was in his arms, my legs wrapped around his waist. His kisses trailing down my neck to my collarbone, soft moans escaped my lips, gripping the wet tresses of hair.

“Sean we...can't...not here”

I panted heavily. He looked up at me, a disheveled mess he had made me.

“Ill call us a ride”

He held onto me tight pulling his phone out of his pocket calling his driver. Five minutes later a car pulled up to our location, he let me down softly and we ran to the car getting soaked all over again. We arrived back his apartment, it was dimly lit from the storm raging outside.

“Sid?”

Sean yelled inside the apartment,

“Looks like he isn't here”

He looked at me with devilish eyes over his shoulder. Those eyes made me heat up from inside again, he pushed me against the wall he towered over me. He whispered in my ear, his voice husky

“Are you ready to finish what we started?”

I nodded my head in agreement, his lips crashed into mine leaving me breathless. I soaked in the heat radiating from his body.  I wanted him, craved him to my very core, from the moment I first laid eyes on him. I pushed my body hard against him, as I clawed at his wet shirt. He pulled away very breathing heavy,

“Lets go somewhere more comfortable”

He picked me up in his arms carrying me to his bedroom, he sat me gently on the edge of the bed. He pulled his shirt from over his head the droplets of water from his hair landed on his chest rolling down each set of abs to the top of his jeans. I couldn't resist it any longer, I placed my hands on his chest feeling his racing heart beneath. I scraped my nails lightly over his stomach, a soft groan escaped his lips.

“Adra”

His voice lit a fire deep inside my stomach, I wanted him now. Eyes full of lust he climbed onto the bed hovering over me showering my exposed body parts with hot breathy kisses, his eyes lighting up with each article of clothing he shed from my body. Meanwhile Sid had come home and noticed the wet footprints on the carpet leading to Sean's room. He ,quietly walked to the door and leaned his ear against it, soft moans escaped Adra's lips, while Sean made rhythmic groans.

“Ah Sean”

Sid listened to her muffled screams, he grin sheepishly and went to his room for the night. I  awoke to the singing of birds outside the window, the day was bright and beautiful. I tried to get up and I felt a heavy weight around my waist. It was Sean's arm wrapped around me holding me close to his chest. I grinned slightly remembering the night before events. I felt him stir next to me, he breathed in the smell of my hair and smiled,

“Good morning princess”

“Good morning Sean”

“Sleep well?”

“Mm-hmm”

He kissed the tip of my ear lobe,

“Did you have fun last night?”

I giggled as his breath tickled my ear,

“Yes”

He kissed my neck down to my shoulder, he whispered against my skin

“Its such a beautiful Sunday morning”

My eyes widened,

“Oh my god its Sunday and I haven't prepared for the case at all!”

I held my hands in my hands, dammit, I'm going to screw this case up! In a panic I jumped out of bed, and started putting on my still damp clothes. Sean wrapped a sheet around his waist and stopped me,

“Calm down, I'm going to be your second chair. We can prepare together”

“You are going to be my wing man?”

“Heh, yeah I guess I am”

He placed a soft kiss on my forehead, he went to the bathroom where he got dressed. I sat down on the sofa and started to go over documents, who I was going to call, what I was going ask, I huffed out a puff of air pulling my hair back in a messy ponytail. The sound of Mozart's Requiem in d minor flooded my ears with beautiful music, Sean came and plopped down beside me cracking his knuckles.

“Okay lets get started”  

We worked nonstop well into the afternoon, I yawned softly looking at my cellphone one o'clock. I felt better after Sean helped me and reassured me he would be there for me until Giles came back.

“Its about time I headed home”

“If you insist, although you could stay here another night, Ill make sure you get up for court tomorrow”

He grinned at me,

“Heh, thank you but I need some clean clothes and a shower. I'm sure Giles is dying ask me a million questions too.”

“Alright I'll walk you out”

I followed Sean to front door, passing Sid relaxing on the couch again watching sports center this time. He nodded as we passed, a smile on his face. Sean opened the door, I stood in the threshold looking up at him,

“Are you sure you will okay walking home?”

“I'll be fine Sean”

He leaned down pressed his lips softly to mine, I pulled away

“If you keep kissing me like that, I won't want to leave”

He smiled and leaned in for another kiss, I pressed my index finger against his lips stopping him. He frowned, I kissed his cheek and left a huge smile on my face. I stood outside the building looking up at the windows kicking myself because I left. I didn't want to leave but I also didn't want things to move to fast either. I turned down main street, it should take me about fifteen minutes to get home from here. I walked slowly pulling the collar of my jacket close to my face, the cool wind chilled my exposed neck. I kept my head down while I walked, my phone starting ringing in my pocket. I stopped and pulled out my phone to see who it was, I laughed answering the phone.

“Sean I just left”

“ I just wanted to make sure your okay, where are you?”

“I;m outside the old cbgb's store, I'm about five minutes from the apartment”

“Do you want me to come get you?”

“I'm fine really”

A black van pulled up behind me while I talked to Sean, I felt a pair of strong arms grab me from behind causing me drop my phone with a scream. I heard Sean yelling from the phone,

“Adra! Whats wrong? Oh god”

“Sean!”

A man placed a white rag doused in chloroform, over my mouth I blacked out in seconds as they pulled me into the van. Sean yelled on the other end of the phone,

“Adra, I'm coming just hold on!”

Sean ran as fast as he could, finally coming to the cbgb building. He stopped huffing and puffing, he saw Adra's phone laying on the ground. He picked it up and held it to his chest, he quickly called the cops. I awoke in a to find myself in a dimly lit room of something that looked like an old warehouse, my head pounded. I soon found out I bound to a wooden chair, I began to kick and scream. The door to the room opened and in strolled Louis Howard, he clicked his tongue dissatisfied.  

“A lady should not conduct herself in this manor”

“What do you want?”

He grinned widely as he stepped beside me and punched me square in the jaw the brass knuckles that he wore breaking it instantly. Blood poured from my mouth, another blow landed in my chest taking my breath away, the next landed in my stomach. He leaned in and whispered closely to my ear,

“You should have took my plea deal”

I blacked out from the immense pain slumping over in the chair. Louis looked down at Adra's limp body, he spoke to one of his men,

“Call me when she is wake”

Sean sat in the police precinct clenching his fists, a sweaty and nervous mess. Giles sat next to him his hands on his head, shaking his leg uncontrollably. Two detective came to speak to him and Giles,

“I'm detective Burkhardt and this detective Meier. We are the leads on your missing friends case”

“We are going to do our very best to find her”

Sean hung his head low and blamed himself for letting her leave, letting her walk home alone. Giles shed tear after tear, praying nothing had happened to her. I raised my head I was still in the same room, I could only open one eye, the other had been swollen shut. My breathing was ragged, I had no idea what day is was or what time it is for that matter, all I could see in the dim light that hung over head. Louis walked in the room again shortly after I had awoken. My body wavered and my head moved from side to side as I tried to look at him in his cold eyes. I struggled to speak my jaw throbbed,

“Why..are...doing...this?”

Its all I managed to say, I hung my head relishing the pain in my mouth. Louis cleared his throat,

“I told you that you should have taken my plea, now you going to pay with your life”

He pulled my head back by my hair, spitting in my face. He punched me in the side, I felt my ribs cracking beneath his hand, I blacked out once more. Sean stormed in the precinct looking for Burkhardt and Meier, he found them and slammed Meier against the wall.

“Its been two days and you guys are sitting here eating donuts and drinking coffee, what the fuck are you guys doing?”

Burkhardt pulled Sean from Meier,

“Watch yourself Mr. Grandier or I will lock you up”

“Its fine Al”

He smoothed out his jacket slowly,

“Sean, you need to go home. We are doing all we can, I promise you will be the first to know if we find anything”

Sean slammed his fist against the wall his face red with anger storming out of the station. I felt ice cold water douse my body shocking me awake, the pain had become numb by this time. I  looked up to see Louis before me once again, I felt the cold steel barrel of a gun touch my forehead, I prayed for death at that moment. I closed my eyes and remembered Sean's smile, I smiled  slightly as Louis pulled the trigger, everything went black. They loaded Adra's lifeless body back into the van and dumped her under the East  River bridge. Someone in a passing taxi saw her lifeless form and called police. Her pulse was shallow when they arrived, she was beaten beyond recognition. Taken to the hospital she was put into a medical induced coma. Sean was sitting at the apartment with Giles and Alyn, he didn't want to be alone. His cellphone started ringing in his pocket and after seeing Burkhardt's name on the screen he quickly answered it,

“Yes what it is? Did you find her?”

“Yes Mr. Grandier she is at the hospital in critical condition”

“Ill be right there”

He hung up the phone, Giles and Alyn quickly followed him to Mercy Hospital. They found her room, the sight of her made Sean's heart sink. A machine had to breathe for her, so many hoses and tubes coming out of her tiny body. He knelt next to her bed, grabbing her hand, squeezing it gently he started to cry. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. She still laid silent in the hospital bed, motionless. Sean hardly left her side at all, Giles came by to visit everyday. Today was special in particular, sentencing for Louis Howard started to today, they matched the dried saliva on Adra's face to his DNA. He was found guilty on three counts of murder and one count attempted murder, sentenced to life in prison without the possibly of parole. Sean looked over at Adra holding her hand,

“Did you hear that? You put him away for life”

Sean kissed her on the forehead. Tears started streaming down his cheeks, dropping on her face.

“We won Adra. We won my love”

Her body had completely healed but her brain activity still hadn't returned to normal. Sean played music for her every night, her favorites Mozart and Beethoven. He laid beside her holding her limp body close singing into her ear, the same song every night before he fell asleep,

“I am with you always, from the darkness of night, until the morning, I am with you always, from life until death takes me”

He kissed her forehead, whispering in her ear,

“I love you Adra, I fell for you the first day I met you. I can't bare going through life without such an amazing person by my side. Please if you hear me, wake up”

Her face twitched slowly, her hand squeezed his, Sean screamed for someone

“Doctor! Nurse! Come quickly”

Her brain scan began to beep showing signs of activity, her eyelids fluttered struggling to open. Sean stood at her side holding her hand tightly. I opened my eyes to harsh white lights, I held my hand in front of my eyes adjusting to the light my eyes psychically hurt but I could open them both. I was confused, the pain that racked my body before was gone. I heard a sniffle from beside me, I looked over to see Sea crying next to me a smile on his face.

“Your finally awake”

I struggled to speak but my voice was gone, the nurse held a cup of water. I sipped the cold liquid through the straw wetting my throat. I breathed in and tried again looking at Sean the entire time,

“I-I”

I cleared my throat once again,

“I heard everything you've said and I  have to tell you something”

I felt hot tears stinging my eyes threatening to spill out.

“Thank you for the music, singing to me while holding me close to you, I thought I was never going to feel your touch again. You are the only reason I clung to live, but more importantly. I love you too”

Sean kissed my cheek softly. Another few months passed by before being released from the hospital, I had to learn how to walk again, my muscles had deteriorated to almost nothing. I stepped outside with Sean holding my hand, the dark blue ring on my finger shined in the sunlight. I let the light shine on my face, it had been almost year since I felt the rays of the sun on my skin. The warm breeze blew my hair into my eyes as I took a deep breath in, taking all the scents I have missed. Sean stood watching me

smiling, he pulled me close wrapping an arm around my waist,

“Miss Lockhart, shall we go see Giles? I'm sure he is dying to see you”

“Not right now, I want to do something else”

“What might that be?”

I smiled up him wrapping my arms around his neck,

“I've been dying to feel your touch again. Could we head to your place first?”

“Of course princess”

He smiled that smile that I envisioned the moment I thought I was going to die. Now I get to live with it for the rest of my life. I held his hand tightly never wanting to let go, he was my prince and I his princess. I knew the moment I laid eyes on him a year ago in that elevator, he had stolen my heart for eternity.

#enter sean grandier #sid arnault #midnight cinderella #midcin #midcinfanfic