Chapter 4. Day 3 ~ It's Harder Than It Looks

There's an old Chinese Proverb that says, "It is easier to visit friends than to
live with them." Nuff said, I think.

The Genius Intern's POV

"You're kidding me, right?"
Please tell me you're kidding.
"'Fraid not, my friend," the Texan twanged with his toothpick hanging out of
the side of his mouth as Emmett tried not to laugh his ASS off at me while I
held the costume in my hands, debating just exactly how desperate I was for
some income.
"And this pays how much?" I asked.
Emmett's buddy, Jasper I think he said, smirked as he eyed Emmett before
answering me. I'd heard him say his name, I just wasn't really paying attention
passed the whole, 'you need to dress like an Ogre and pass out drinks'
bullshit.
Apparently, the bar this guy owned, The Vudu Lounge, was sort of a place
where people visited before and slash or after, mostly after, going to see the
shows on Broadway, so my costume would change periodically, reflecting the
more popular shows that were playing.
What can I say? I'm a lucky guy.
"Can ya sing?" he asked me and I almost laughed out loud.
"Can I…? What does that have to do with…?"
"Ya know what," he said, waving a hand at me. "It doesn't matter, it's a
hundred a night, plus tips."
Man, why did this shit have to be so tempting? I mean, where else was I
gonna get that kind of money without selling my body or something?
I pinched the bridge of my nose, debating.
Selling my body couldn't be TOO bad, right?
Shit.
It was the perfect gig, to tell you the truth, I'd only be working from ten PM till
two AM and only on Friday, Saturdays and Sundays.
But seriously? Dress like Shrek?
Fuck.
"Alright," I told him finally, after the little voice in my head reminded me that I
wasn't a moocher, and couldn't take advantage of Emmett's generosity for
very long.
Emmett hooted. "YES! Told ya I'd find someone, Jazz! Where's my finder's
fee?"
Nice.
Jasper pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket and gave Emmett a bill, I
don't know what it was but I'm pretty sure it wasn't a ten spot.
I got the impression the position was difficult to fill, and it wasn't hard to
imagine why.
"When can ya start?" Jasper asked me as a server stalked up to him, looking
pretty angry.
It was Tuesday afternoon, I had three full days to get used to the idea that I
would be a cartoon character during the weekends for an undefined amount of
time, I figured what the hell.
Plus, I needed money.
"This weekend work for you?"
"Perfect," he twanged. "And, thanks…I know it's a shit job, but ya gotta start
somewhere, right?"
"Yeah, guess so," I breathed, looking at the ridiculous get up I'd be wearing,
come Friday night.
"You guys stickin' around for a while? Have a drink on me," he suggested,
nodding to the bartender, leaving discretely, calming the young server down
by a simple hand on her shoulder and whispered words of who knows what.
The statement didn't even finish leaving his lips when Emmett had found us
two seats at the bar and since he was my only source of transportation and
living quarters, I joined him.
Anyway, it was only one drink, I still had plenty of time to get working on the
script.
…..
"You're a fucking lunatic!" I screamed over the music, laughing so hard I could
barely breathe when Emmett finished sauntering up to a girl at the bar,
throwing his cheesiest pick up line at her, trying to "teach" me to be more
assertive with women.
The guy was killing me.
Listen, I don't generally have problems with women…FYI…I've had my fair
share of dates, love 'em and leave 'em incidents, one night stands, you name
it, I've done it…but this…Bella Swan woman…I just couldn't get her out of my
head, and somehow, Emmett had seen it.
Apparently, he's quite the observant mo-fo.
So without actually SAYING he knew, he knew that I knew that he knew, and
he was pulling for me, for some reason.
I think he even called our nameless, faceless woman at the bar,
"Eeezabelle"…he said it was the exact impression of our yet to show
up Director of the show, and our girl was so drunk, I don't even think she
realized what he was saying.
"Does that shit really work?" I asked, amused more than anything that he'd
actually had the nerve to say, 'Nice tits' to her.
He just shrugged. "Worked with Rose."
We were both bending over in drunken laughter when his random pick up
walked by on her way out, slipping a piece of paper with her number on it into
his shirt pocket.
He immediately pulled it out and threw it into a peanut bowl nearby.
"If Rose found that, you'd never see me again, dude," he chuckled heartily,
but then got dead serious. "Promise me." He grabbed my shirt and pulled me
closer. "If I ever disappear, you'll come looking for me."
I held up two fingers like a boy scout, even though I'd never been
one…wondering if it even counted if you'd never been one, but then not really
giving a shit, and said, "Promise."
That was when I looked to watch the woman leave through the front doors of
the bar, and realized it was dark outside.
"Shit, hey, what time is it?"
He one-eyed his watch and said, "Ten o'clock…or…ten till Midnight, one of
those."
Fuuuuuuuuck meeeeeeee!
"Dude! I still have a script to write!" I freaked, admittedly, but shit, I couldn't
blow off ANOTHER night, and then show up and try to bullshit my way
through another meeting.
I dragged my hands frantically through my hair and Emmett grabbed me at the
wrists, stopping me from pulling any of it out.
"Dude, stop freaking out," he said, smiling, then he let go, threw some money
down onto the bar, nodded to our bartender and we left.
Seven hours…possibly five…that was still plenty of time to write something, I
already had some ideas floating around in my head anyway…none of which
included a vision of Mike playing any parts within the scenes…but I could
work around that infinitesimal detail.
"Em…" I said hesitantly, as we arrived at his place.
Settle down, folks, we took a cab. Turns out Emmett's offer to give me a ride
home entailed getting me a taxi. Parking is apparently more expensive than
your actual place of abode in New York.
I know, you're not alone. I shook my head at that shit, too.
He just laughed at the look on my face as we entered his building.
Muffled sounds filled the hallway, and as we rode the slow. As. Fuck elevator
up to his floor, it got louder.
And louder.
I could hear his laughter over the noise when I said his name it again just
before we entered his apartment.
"AAAAAAAY!" everyone yelled and raised their beer bottles or red cups of
who knows what as we walked in.
"Dude, seriously, you're kidding me…this is some joke in an attempt to give
me a heart attack, right?"
I had to say it a little louder than I normally would, since there was a PARTY
going on inside the cramped space. I couldn't tell if he lived neatly or not since
every single square foot that was there was covered by people…
Wall, to wall, people.
"Relax, monkey!" he teased, clapping me on the back, handing me a beer as
he pulled me the rest of the way into his home.
"Emmett…I don't need a beer, I need quiet!" I insisted.
"Blame Alice!" he boomed. "She likes to throw parties, always looking for a
reason…tonight, you're the reason!"
Alice…Alice…
I sorted through the people I'd met over the past few days.
"The little clothing designer chick?"
Emmett turned as we entered the small kitchen area and gave me a
very…serious…look.
"Don't. Ever. Call her….chick, dude, she'll rip you a new asshole!"
Duly noted.
"Why is this party about me? And how did they get in here when you weren't
even home?"
"Well," he started, then stopped to clink my bottle as he gulped his own beer
down.
As I drank mine, he explained, "Rose has a key, she loans it to Alice
occasionally when she needs a place to crash, and or throw a party…and
you're the new guy, who just so happened to get everyone a day off
today…so…" he made a face like, 'duh' and left it at that.
There was no way I could party the night away, despite the fact that these
people were great, and used my stupidity as a reason to drink…I really
needed to get some work done.
I set the beer down onto the counter.
"So," I asked him before he could bail on me to go find Rose. "Where's my
room?"
He laughed and said, "Right there!" pointing at his couch.
Right.
Should have figured that.
"You're not planning on wasting that, are ya?" he asked, motioning toward the
beer. "We have consequences for such ridik shit, dude."
I wasn't quite willing to challenge him on that.
Yet.
So I downed the beer to make my new friend happy, placed the empty bottle
back onto the counter, then he nodded approvingly and left, giving me a wave
of his hand to say he'd catch me later, and I took my bag of tricks to go find a
quiet place, which turned out, was the fire escape slash 'terrace'.
The city street sounds and car honking were much easier to deal with than
loud music, screaming laughter and glass breaking.
It was freezing out, but I really couldn't give a shit, since my only other option
was the leather sofa in the front area of Carlilsle's office again.
Although, it would be much quieter there.
Nope, I decided it would just be wasting more time to walk back to the station,
so…I sat on the steps to the fire escape and pulled out my script sheets,
staring at them for a few minutes, letting the ideas I'd had earlier sink in and
float around drunkenly in my mind, some…chuckled at a few, then started
writing furiously, smiling and laughing out loud every so often at my own puns
and jokes.
Which were a hell of a lot funnier in my inebriated state.
When I couldn't write another single line without making the script "over done",
I looked at it one last time and tucked it back into my bag and went inside for a
celebratory drink, only to realize, everyone was already gone.
The only remnants of the party over night were empty chip bags, stacked red
cups and a recycle bin that was over flowing with beer bottles.
Emmett's bedroom door was closed, I had to assume he was in there with
Rose and that they would want to be disturbed, so I decided against waking
him up.
I looked at the clock on the microwave in the kitchen.
It said Four oh five.
AM.
Shit.
I raked my hand over my face and went into the bathroom to see how bad I
looked.
It was pretty bad, but I didn't have much of my own shit yet, and didn't want to
just, use Emmett's shit, so I cleaned up as best I could, which included taking
a shower, however, excluded a shave.
I started a list of shit I needed to get over the weekend after my first paycheck
Friday night as I grabbed the half gallon of milk out of Emmett's fridge, taking
a swig.
And then immediately spit it out into his sink.
"UH! Man! Nasty!"
I looked at the expiration date. It was over a week ago.
Gross.
I poured the milk out, ran the water for a little bit to wash it down the drain,
rinsed my mouth out, then I headed off to WESME.
Did I mention that my uncle named the station after his wife, my aunt Esme?
I know, uber poetic and romantic, right?
I still had yet to meet her.
The other smart thing about Emmett was that his apartment was within
walking distance of the station.
I was pretty stoked throughout my walk. I had a spring in my step, despite my
exhaustion, happy with what I'd come up with, confident it would blow Tanya
away, and ready for her snarky remarks despite the fact that she'd be
impressed with what I gave her.
I barely made it to her office on time with the script but hell, I did it,
breathlessly, set the papers in front of her and took a chair across from her
desk as she looked it over.
When she was done, she gave no clue as to whether she hated, loved or
wanted to burn the damn thing, she just said, "Ten AM, conference room,
Carlilse will be there, be ready to pitch it."
"Uh…okay," I answered, standing up slowly to take the leaves of paper from
her.
As I left I was thinking , wow, that was actually really…anti-climactic.
"And monkey?"
I stopped, grinding my teeth together, then I spun around and smiled.
"Good luck," she said, not even bothering to look up at me.
Weird.
I didn't have time for analyzing the simple words Tanya had spoken, I had
more important things to do.
Like find the receptionist's area upstairs and crash on the leather couch.
…..
"Well I don't like it," Mike snorted like a spoiled brat, shoving the remnants of
his onion bagel into his mouth. He was also scribbling something into his
trusted Daytimer.
We had been going around the table, or rather, THEY had been going around
the table, discussing good and bad points about my notes from over night.
With the greatest of detail, I might add.
I wasn't at all that used to people scrutinizing my every word, analyzing what I
might have meant, or taking something to the level of intensity that they were.
It gave me a head ache and I rubbed my temples as I listened to them battle
over the thing.
I was barely awake, and hadn't had anything even resembling coffee yet, so I
couldn't quite form the words in my head to attempt to tell him to fuck the hell
off, thank god, but I didn't have to.
I made a farting sound with my lips.
When I realized what I'd done, I looked up. Everyone was staring at me,
including Bella. I needed to think of something before I was raked over the
coals like the poor sap that had just spoken a few minutes before and had to
abruptly excuse himself from the room.
Here we go. Wake up time.
"I just mean…well, you know, he's…" I looked over at Mike.
Yeah…reverse Psychology would probably work best with this kinda guy.
I could hear Al Pacino in my head saying Challenge? We don't need no
stinking challenge! And smiled.
"There's no way he could pull off a physically comedic part like this…he's too,
you know…" I waved a hand, flippantly.
"Too…what?" he asked angrily with a mouth full of onion bagel.
Been there, done that dude…and it's not becoming.
"You know what? Nevermind, I'll just adjust the role…and…"
"Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah now…just wait a fucking minute here, are
you saying I can't do this?"
I curled my lips downward and held my hands out to the sides of me. "Look,
I'm just saying, an actor of your caliber, who's OBVIOUSLY set in his ways,
isn't gonna wanna change his gig up to do comedy, you probably wouldn't be
able to pull it off anyway."
Nice wording, right?
He narrowed his eyes at me, then turned to James. "Can you believe this
guy?"
James shot his eyebrows up. "Well, he's got a point, I mean, look at Isabella."
The two of them, James and Mike that is, laughed knowingly with each other
while she twisted her mouth, scowling like she was biting her tongue about
something.
I furrowed my brow at James.
Very. Harshly.
What a dick.
This was her BOYFRIEND?
And why did he keep calling her Isabella?
"You know, I don't think that…" I started, but was cut off by Mike again. "Well
I'm doing it, and you…" he looked back to me and pointed. "Aren't gonna tell
me I am…INCAPABLE of doing it, either, monkey."
I was getting really fucking sick and tired of people calling me MONKEY.
Especially him.
But this wasn't the time nor place to confront him on that…I needed him to
sign off on the new script, because like it or not, the actors were part of the
decision process here.
Welcome to the wonderful world of poliltics.
"Well, if you think you can do it, then by all means, who am I to…"
"Damn straight," he added, cutting me off. Again. Then he turned to Carlisle.
"You signing off on this, C?" He waved the script in his hand and Carlisle tried
not to smile as he eyed me, then Mike.
"If my actors are happy, I'm happy," he said with all of the royalty he portrayed
visibly seeping out of his voice.
"Fine, then, settled…" Mike snapped at no one, and then he snatched his
papers and left the room.
BAM! Gotcha!
"Okay, everybody, you heard the man, we'll get the cleaned up version to you
this afternoon, first rehearsals are tomorrow we start at six AM, be here ON
TIME," Jamed boomed to the room.
He leaned over and said something quietly to Bella, then left and if I hadn't
been so damn tired, I would have taken that opportunity to say something to
her…except I couldn't form much of a thought as to what exactly I'd say, so it
seemed irrelevant.
Probably not a smart move anyway.
I scooped up my papers as the Administrative Assistant that worked for
Carlisle came over and asked if she could borrow my copy to make the
changes.
I gave them to her eagerly.
I mean, shit, I'd half expected Tanya to make me do it.
As I left the room, wondering where my uncle had gone to, I felt a warm hand
touch my arm and a soft voice sounded from behind me.
"Excuse me, Edward?"
It was Bella.
My pants suddenly felt two sizes too small in the front in direct reaction to the
sound of her quiet voice and the softness of her touch and I embarrassingly
adjusted myself so that, hopefully, she wouldn't notice.
I cleared my throat.
Don't make eye contact, don't make eye contact.
I answered her while I fucked with my bag, pretending to have something in
there I needed.
"Yeah."
She pulled her hand away.
"What about…" she started awkwardly and I peeked at from the corner of my
eye. She was chewing on her bottom lip a little, and I frowned, hoping it wasn't
ME that made her feel that way.
It took every ounce of restraint I had to keep myself from extending a hand out
to her face, and just holding it there, to sooth away her worries.
"What about me? I mean… I haven't exactly established myself in this industry
yet, much less in a comedic role…and…"
Seriously?
I laughed through my nose at her at that and stopped what I was doing to look
at her.
"I wouldn't worry about that, Bella…I have a feeling you can do just about
anything you set your mind to."
And then some.
"Did…did you just call me…Bella?" she asked, looking a bit confused.
"Oh, shit, I mean shoot, I'm sorry, Miss Swan…" I started, feeling like an idiot,
I mean of COURSE I shouldn't be calling her by her first name…shit.
"No," she smiled. "I just meant that…well most people tend to call me
Isabella."
"Oh, well…" here goes round two of looking like an idiot. "I um…when
Carlisle, I mean, Mr. Cullen called you Bella, your nose didn't do that thing like
when James calls you Isabella, I just figured you preferred it."
Her eyes widened and her lips turned up, showing some of the perfectly
straight teeth she had and she got up onto her tippy toes, leaning toward me.
"I do," she whispered.
This is that part of the story where I really wish I could rewind the events I'm
about to tell you about, delete them, replace them with something a little
more…not quite so embarrassing, and then live my life without shame.
But alas, here's what actually happened.
See when Bella leaned in like that, I thought she was leaning in to kiss me,
not to TALK to me.
Stupid, yeah, I know, but in the moment, what else was I supposed to think?
So I leaned toward her, closing my eyes, puckering a little, in the anticipation
to feel her soft, perfect lips against mine, hearing nothing but John Mayer in
my head, singing that song about dancing in a burning room.
Then I heard a very quiet, very nervous, "Um…."
"What the fuck are you doing, monkey?" came another voice from not so far
away and I snapped my eyes open, only to be met with a blushing, doe eyed,
shocked Bella, her mouth slightly ajar, backing away slowly.
My equilibrium was thrown off, my mouth became dry and I fell forward, into
Bella. My hands threw themselves into her for balance, I swear, but landed
square on her breasts and she screamed.
"Shit, shit! Oh god, I'm so sorry!" I yelled, trying to wipe my hand prints off of
them or something, hell I don't know.
Like I said, smooth as Vanilla Ice.
She covered them with her arms as James walked up to us, pushing me the
other way, into a wall.
Yeah. Ow is right.
"Get your fucking hands off her, monkey," he said, ready to bash my face in
probably.
Bella said something, I'm not sure what, and he shushed her and told her,
sarcastically, "Isabella, please don't try to abuse us with your thoughts on the
male species."
What the fuck was THAT supposed to mean?
"Don't talk to her like that!" I blurted out before I could think and James
squared his shoulders on me, but didn't say anything back. He just eyed me a
little and to tell you the truth, I was almost hoping he'd take a swing at me, it
would have been a nice excuse to punch him back.
"Let's GO, Isabella," he said, putting an arm around and shuffling her off, once
again.
She was saying something to him, and she did NOT look happy, but I couldn't
hear it over the rest of the hub bub that was going on around us.
"Nice," Emmett laughed, walking up to me from his camera world.
"Fuck off," I told him, but he just laughed harder. "You're never gonna get her
that way, I mean, shit Edward, it's practically unheard of for any of the actors
to associate with any of us…well, not actors…much less DATE one…"
"Woah woah woah, Em, who said anything about dating her, I just…I fell…" I
said, trying to defend my idiocy.
"Uh huh."
"She….LEANED."
"Leaned."
"Yeah, she leaned, I thought she was…"
He was just laughing harder at this point, which you wouldn't think was
possible, but there is was.
I raked my hand over my face and said, "Forget it."
Some of the writers came out of the conference room then, advising me we
had work to do. I guess my re-writes were getting re-writes…so I said g'bye to
Em and told him I'd see him later. He pulled a key to his apartment out of his
pocket and handed it to me.
"Oh, man, I'm not…I don't plan on putting you out for long…"
"Dude, as long as you need it, the couch is your's, take it." He pushed the little
piece of metal into my hand and then took off. Shoulders bobbing the whole
way.
I sighed, thinking about how I really needed to get my act together if I was
gonna last in this town, then stepped into the conference room, where
Carlisle's Administrative Assistant was setting up a coffee pot for us.
YES.
As the door shut, I couldn't help but smile at the fact that MY WORDS were
getting re-worked and with any luck, were going to be acted out by the most
gorgeous woman alive, on NATIONAL FUCKING TELEVISION.
I'd have to come up with new material on a weekly basis, guarantee laughs
galore from our audience and keep the actors happy at the same time.
Holy shit.
I started to hyperventilate a little, but I re-grouped, and got myself a cup of
coffee with lots of sugar and little creamer then sat down and tried to remain
the cool, calm and collected person I vaguely remembered myself being in
college only a couple of weeks before.
I mean how hard could this re-writing thing be, anyway?