#How to self-tape for auditions

[just-another-obsessed-fangirl]

mainly incoherent thoughts from watching that clip of angela in that true crime show that was going around but one thought that i can structure is. you're telling me that grace chasity is not the first role where angela giarratana played a horny 18 year old girl who convinced her peers to lure a guy out to get revenge on him, the end result being that guy is killed

[friend-bear]

i sent in an audition for a movie last night !! it would be my first credited speaking role in a feature film i really hope i get it 🤞🤞

[measureyourlifeincake]

was gonna record a video but got too frustrated with how shitty the camera on my (new!!) phone is :( i s2g it's even worse than my old phone (which wasnt great in the first place) even though i think its the same series (not sure if its exactly the same bc the motos are named weirdly)

it doesnt even let me zoom on the selfie cam??? i downloaded a 3rd party camera app that had digital zoom but it looks even worse than just filming un-zoomed and cropping it (which, to be clear, looks pretty bad)

well that's what i get for insisting on getting a phone with a headphone jack i guess

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

tfw your in-person audition becomes virtual and your virtual audition becomes in-person

[ilovejb]

hi I saw your requests were open!! Could you write hurt/comfort for lewis pullman? maybe they met as costars doing top gun maverick and with his recent fame people don’t like her so she comforts her? Thank you!

| A little too much |

Pairings : Lewis Pullman x female!reader

Summary : When the world refuses to see her worth, she learns to hold her head high—with a little help from the one person who always believed in her.

Warnings : Online harassment (mentions of hate comments, cyberbullying) Insecurity/self-worth struggles,hurt/comfort themes. Use of y/n. Fluffy ending though don’t worry !!

Authors note : Writing this was hard because every time I thought of Lewis Pullman I blacked out for 3–5 business days.

You hadn’t expected Top Gun: Maverick to change your life.

You were cast as Lieutenant Emily “Echo” Reynolds—one of the new recruits in the Top Gun program. Small role. One that barely skimmed the surface of the final cut, but enough to land you a seat at the premieres, a few lines of dialogue, and a credit you’d clung to in the years after like it meant more than it did. You’d done your job. Clean, professional. Not memorable, not Oscar-worthy—but you’d shown up, hit your marks, delivered your lines.

And you’d met Lewis.

He was warm. Funny. Kind in the way not many actors were, especially the ones with last names like Pullman and eyes that saw more than they let on. You didn’t expect him to talk to you much. You weren’t Glen or Miles or Monica—you weren’t the inner circle.

But he did. He talked to you. At lunch, on set, at wrap parties. You shared trailers when the sun was too hot and shade was a luxury. He shared chips with you once when you forgot to eat. You didn’t call it fate. You weren’t that romantic.

But two months later, when he called you to ask if you wanted to get dinner when you were both back in L.A.—you started to think maybe something bigger had been at play.

Now, two years later, he was famous. Not “Top Gun” famous. Not “I think I recognize him” famous. But everywhere. Talk shows, GQ spreads, Dior campaigns, dramatic indie films and tentpole blockbusters alike.

And you? You were his girlfriend.

Only… no one seemed to like that.

At first, it was little things. Tweets that said “How did she bag Lewis Pullman??” or “Y/N wasn’t even a main character lol she’s just riding the Top Gun clout.”

Then came the Instagram DMs. Pages with profile pictures of teenage girls or anonymous blank circles.

“You’re literally just a nobody.”

“He could do SO much better.”

“Why would someone as sweet as Lewis date someone as average as you?”

“Hope you know he’s going to cheat eventually. You’re just the practice run.”

“You must be amazing in bed to keep him around. Because it’s definitely not the face.”

You tried not to read them. You turned off comments. You blocked. Reported. Ignored.

But they kept coming.

And one day, one of them found your old audition tape.

They posted it to Twitter. The caption said: “Y’all remember when Lewis Pullman had to act with THIS?”

The video had 72K likes in 6 hours.

You called your agent crying. She told you to stay off socials.

You told Lewis nothing.

Because he had enough to deal with.

Because he was finally getting the recognition he deserved.

Because you didn’t want to be that girlfriend—the one who couldn’t take the heat.

You kept your mouth shut. Even when the hate turned from cruel to cutting.

Even when it bled into Reddit threads and fan forums.

“I bet she’s using him for clout.”

“She’s so mid.”

“He could date an actual actress, not some glorified extra.”

“Y/N? Seriously?”

“God, she’s just not pretty enough for him.”

You looked in the mirror and saw it too.

You weren’t model-thin. Your jawline wasn’t sharp. You had soft cheeks and skin that broke out when you were stressed. Your hair was never the perfect amount of messy and styled. Your outfits were practical, not paparazzi-worthy. You didn’t know how to pose at events. You smiled too wide. You stood with your legs too close together. You said dumb things in interviews and forgot to look into the right camera.

You were a mess.

And now, the whole internet saw it too.

The worst part?

Lewis had no idea.

You were quiet when he came home that night. His keys jingled in the bowl by the door. You were curled up on the couch, hoodie pulled over your knees, blue light from your phone casting shadows under your eyes.

He dropped a kiss on your head like he always did and then paused.

“You okay?” he asked gently, brushing your hair behind your ear.

You flinched before you could stop yourself. “Yeah,” you lied, trying to smile. “Just tired.”

Lewis looked at you like he didn’t believe you. “Long day?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “You could say that.”

He sat beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulder. You stiffened again. You hated it. You hated that his warmth, the thing you used to crave, felt like acid now—like a spotlight. Like everyone could see you didn’t deserve it.

He squeezed your arm. “Babe.”

You blinked too hard, and your phone slipped from your hands. He caught a glimpse of the screen before it fell face-down onto the carpet. You moved fast to grab it.

Too late.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

You didn’t look at him.

He reached down, picked up the phone. You reached for it, but he held it out of reach. “Hey, what’s—” He opened the app. Froze. Read one comment. Then another.

You felt your stomach drop. “Lewis—”

“Is this why you’ve been quiet all week?” His voice was sharp. Not angry. But something close. Something wounded.

You turned away.

He stared at the screen, scrolling through DM after DM. “Jesus.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you whispered.

Lewis looked at you like you’d said the most absurd thing in the world. “You didn’t want to bother me? Y/N, people are harassing you.”

“They’re just stupid fans,” you said quickly, eyes stinging. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

You didn’t know how to explain that. That some part of you felt like you deserved it. Like all those people were just saying what everyone else was thinking.

You bit your lip. “I didn’t want to make it about me. Your career is exploding. I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Lewis sat back like the words physically knocked the wind out of him. “You think this isn’t about us?”

You stayed silent.

He threw the phone onto the couch and turned fully to you. His voice was low now. Hurt. “Y/N, you were the best thing to come out of that set for me. You still are. The fact that you’re hurting and I didn’t know? That’s what makes me sick.”

Your eyes brimmed over, the tears hot and fast.

“And I don’t care what anyone on the internet says,” he continued, voice cracking a little. “They don’t know you. They don’t know what it was like to see you in costume, chewing gum between takes and mouthing everyone else’s lines because you were so damn prepared. They don’t know how you pulled me aside after I forgot my cue and whispered the right one like it was a secret. Or how you stood next to me at the wrap party and let me vent about how nervous I was to live up to my dad’s name.”

You blinked hard.

“They don’t know how you came to my mom’s birthday party even though you were terrified of meeting my family, and won over every single person in the room because you’re funny and real and kind.”

“Lewis—”

“They don’t know how you fall asleep with your mouth open and then wake up embarrassed and cover it like it makes you unlovable.” He shook his head, voice soft now. “They don’t know what I know.”

You were crying full now. Hands shaking. Voice cracked. “It just—it got in my head.”

“I know.” He reached for you, arms wrapping tight around your frame. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry I didn’t see it.”

You clung to him like you were drowning. He held you tighter.

And for the first time in weeks, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could breathe.

You didn’t leave the house for five days.

Not for coffee. Not for groceries. Not for air.

You canceled your lunch with your old Top Gun castmates—the few who still remembered you. You ignored text after text from your friends, all of them asking if you were okay in that soft, guilt-laced way people use when they’ve just realized how long it’s been since they checked in.

You stayed in Lewis’s oversized hoodie, the one with the tiny burn hole on the sleeve from when he tried to make you crème brûlée at 2 a.m. and nearly torched the entire kitchen.

It still smelled like him. Like cinnamon and cedar and that stupid overpriced hair gel he swore he didn’t use.

You hated that it comforted you.

Lewis didn’t push you to leave. Not once.

He cooked breakfast without asking if you wanted it. Left little Post-it notes on your mirror—drink water / you are loved / they’re wrong about you. He took every interview request and promo obligation and moved it. Cleared the week. For you.

And still, you barely spoke.

You couldn’t. Because talking meant thinking, and thinking meant reliving, and reliving meant scrolling.

You knew better. You knew not to check the tags. Not to search your name. Not to read the comments on his latest GQ cover where you were only mentioned in passing but still managed to become a target.

“She’s dragging him down.”

“PR relationship. Has to be.”

“Can someone please explain to me how Lewis Pullman went from rising star to babysitting his insecure little groupie of a girlfriend?”

“Her eyes are dead in every photo. It’s giving boring.”

“She’s so lucky he doesn’t have better taste.”

You wanted to disappear. To melt into the hardwood floor and never be seen again. You wondered if there was a way to shrink yourself small enough to fit into his pocket and never come out.

On day six, you finally said something.

“I think I want to delete everything.”

Lewis was on the couch reading a script. He looked up slowly.

“Everything?”

You nodded. “Instagram. Twitter. My website. My reels. All of it.”

He set the script down. “Babe, are you sure?”

You tried to smile. Failed. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to keep it.”

He didn’t speak for a moment. Then, he reached across the coffee table, his fingers wrapping around yours.

“You are. You’re the strongest person I know.”

He paused. “But if it’s breaking you right now, we’ll take it down.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

You breathed for the first time in days. He squeezed your hand.

You deleted it all.

One by one.

Photos from set. Gone.

Thirst traps that never made you feel sexy. Gone.

The tweet where you made a dumb joke about Tom Cruise being shorter than expected. Gone.

You cried when it was over.

Lewis didn’t say I told you so. He just wrapped you in a blanket and held you so long your leg fell asleep.

And then it got worse.

Paparazzi photos surfaced. Ones from a month ago, outside a gas station, when you’d worn your pajama bottoms in public and hadn’t realized someone was watching. You were with Lewis. He was holding your hand.

The headline read: “New It Boy Lewis Pullman Settling Down with Mediocre Nobody?”

The article wasn’t even subtle.

“She’s forgettable at best, unprofessional at worst.”

“No major roles since Maverick, which frankly wasn’t a major role to begin with.”

“Sources say Lewis’s team isn’t thrilled about the relationship.”

“She’s been described as clingy, emotionally volatile, and embarrassingly jealous.”

Your ears rang. Your chest caved in.

There weren’t any sources. That was the worst part. They just made it up. Invented a version of you the world could hate, and then handed you over to the wolves.

When Lewis found you, you were shaking.

“I’m not clingy,” you said as he walked in.

His face twisted in confusion. “What?”

“I’m not. I give you space. I don’t make everything about me. I let you work. I don’t even go to half the premieres with you because I know people will talk.”

His heart dropped to his knees. “Hey, hey—where is this coming from?”

You turned your phone toward him. Let him see the headline. The photos. The bolded words you couldn’t unread.

He paled. Sat beside you in silence.

You wiped at your eyes. “Do you think they’re right?”

Lewis’s mouth parted. “What—what the hell kind of question is that?”

“Do you regret this?” Your voice cracked. “Being with me?”

Something in him shattered.

He reached for your face, thumbs brushing tears from your cheeks like it would change the world.

“No,” he whispered. “God, no. You are the only thing that keeps me grounded. Do you know what fame feels like most days? It feels like everyone wants a piece of me except the people who actually see me. But you—you see me. You always have.”

You wanted to believe it. You really did.

But the internet was louder. The world was louder.

And you were so, so tired.

“I just don’t want to make your life harder.”

He leaned forward, forehead pressed to yours. “You make my life worth it.”

And for a minute, the noise faded.

The next day, Lewis went live on Instagram. He almost never did that. His fans were used to curated posts and PR campaigns. But this wasn’t that.

It was his living room. No filter. No lighting. Just him.

He looked into the camera, tired and soft and real.

“I’m only gonna say this once,” he began. “Because I don’t want to give hate more airtime than it deserves.”

Your heart stopped.

“If you think it’s okay to attack my girlfriend for existing, for loving me, for not meeting some standard you made up in your head—then you can go ahead and unfollow me right now.”

You froze.

“She’s brilliant. And kind. And stronger than anyone I know. She’s been dealing with so much of your bullshit while still showing up every day, still taking care of me, still making me laugh even when she’s hurting. And if you can’t respect her, then you don’t respect me.”

He paused. Let the silence hang like a gavel.

“I don’t care if I lose followers. I care if I lose her.”

Then he ended the stream.

Your phone blew up. DMs of love. Comments from strangers. Messages from co-stars who hadn’t texted in months. Your name trending—for the right reason, this time.

But none of it mattered.

What mattered was Lewis. Who came into the room ten minutes later, unsure if he’d overstepped, scared he’d made it worse.

And you? You ran into his arms like you hadn’t already collapsed there a thousand times before.

You buried your face in his chest and whispered, “Thank you.”

He kissed your temple. “Always.”

The audition wasn’t even supposed to happen.

Your agent called last minute. Some massive director was looking to cast the lead in a dark psychological drama—“female-led, intense, emotionally layered.” The kind of role people gave awards for.

The kind of role no one thought of you for.

You almost didn’t go.

But Lewis sat you down that morning, cupped your face in his hands, and said, “This is yours. Whether they see it or not, you show them.”

So you went.

No makeup. Just messy hair, a threadbare sweater, and the kind of performance that burned like salt in an open wound.

They didn’t even finish the auditions.

You got a call two hours later.

“You booked it,” your agent said, stunned. “They’re not even seeing anyone else.”

The press rollout was immediate. It was the most buzz you’d had since Top Gun, and even then, you’d barely been a footnote. This was different.

You weren’t Lewis’s girlfriend this time.

You weren’t the girl from the background.

You were the headline.

“Breakout Star Lands Role in Cannes-Contending Thriller”

“Underdog No More: Her Rise Is Our Revenge”

“Internet Favorite to Industry Force—She’s Just Getting Started”

Your name trended. But this time, there was no pit in your stomach. No acid in your throat. The hate still existed, sure—it always would—but it was drowned out by something bigger now.

Respect.

You were finally being seen.

Lewis surprised you with champagne and takeout the night the news dropped. You walked in to find candles, confetti, and a massive “YOU DID IT” banner sloppily taped to the ceiling. It was crooked. The tape peeled on one side. You cried anyway.

He grabbed your face and kissed you so hard your knees went weak.

“You knew this would happen,” you whispered.

He grinned. “No. I hoped. But you made it happen.”

You laughed into his neck, your fingers curling into his hoodie like you were anchoring yourself to the moment. Because for once, you weren’t drowning.

You were floating.

The filming process was brutal—in the best way.

Sixteen-hour days. Crying scenes that left your throat raw. Close-ups where your only job was to break. And you did. Over and over again. In front of cameras. In front of strangers.

You gave everything.

And people noticed.

The director—usually stone-faced and impossible to impress—started calling you “The Hurricane.” Not because you were chaotic, but because you destroyed expectations. Wiped the floor with them.

Critics got early footage and lost their minds.

“Where has she been hiding?”

“A performance that breaks you and rebuilds you in the same breath.”

“She carries the entire film on her back—and doesn’t flinch once.”

Even your old castmates reached out. The ones who’d forgotten your name at wrap parties. The ones who’d watched your rise without clapping. Suddenly, they remembered.

“I always knew you had it in you,” one texted.

You didn’t respond. But you screenshotted it. Just to remember how far you’d come.

Awards buzz came faster than you expected.

There were whispers. Rumors. One anonymous source told Variety, “She’s not just a contender—she’s the frontrunner.”

You got invited to every premiere. Every party. Designers who once ignored your stylist now begged to dress you. And you? You walked the carpets with Lewis on your arm, head high, smiling like a woman who’d been broken, stitched herself back together, and still managed to glow.

He was so proud.

He told you every day. In the quiet. In the chaos. In bed at 3 a.m. when you couldn’t sleep because the world finally liked you and somehow that scared you even more.

“Don’t let them tell you who you are,” he said, tracing circles on your back. “You’ve always been this. Even when they couldn’t see it.”

You turned toward him, eyes full, voice soft. “Thank you for waiting for them to catch up.”

He kissed you like an answer.

Then came the premiere.

Red carpet. Paparazzi. Flashbulbs so bright you could barely see.

You wore custom Chanel. Something sharp and soft all at once. Like you. Lewis stood beside you, dapper and wide-eyed like he’d just met you for the first time and couldn’t believe his luck.

The interviewers swarmed.

“Is it surreal seeing her success after everything she’s been through?” one asked Lewis.

He smiled—proud and unbothered. “She’s always been this good. The rest of you were just slow.”

You laughed. He winked.

Another reporter turned to you.

“What would you say to the people who doubted you?”

You paused. Let the camera linger. Let the world lean in.

“I’d say thank you,” you said. “Because it forced me to believe in myself louder than they disbelieved. And now—”

You looked at Lewis. Then back at the camera. “Now I get to prove them wrong by just existing.”

The internet exploded.

The clip went viral within an hour. Your follower count doubled. Fans made edits of you, side by side with scenes from Top Gun, then your new film, then candids of you and Lewis looking like the literal blueprint for “power couple energy.”

Your DMs flooded.

Not just with praise.

With apologies.

From strangers who’d left hate comments.

From girls who’d once written Twitter threads about how “mid” you were.

From influencers who now called you an “inspiration.”

You didn’t respond to any of them.

Because you didn’t need to.

You had nothing to prove anymore.

That night, back at your place, you kicked off your heels and collapsed into the couch. Lewis brought you a glass of wine and sat beside you like he always had. Not as your fan. Not as your shadow. But as your home.

“You did it,” he whispered.

You looked over at him. Exhausted. Radiant. Changed.

“We did.”

He smiled.

You set the wine down and crawled into his lap, arms around his neck.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“Yeah?”

You leaned your forehead against his. “Thank you for never treating me like I was hard to love.”

He exhaled. Shaky. Like he’d been holding that breath for months.

“You were the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” he said. “Loving you.”

And maybe it wasn’t loud. Maybe it wasn’t cinematic or sparkly or viral.

But in that moment—pressed against him, wrapped in his hoodie, laughter tangled between kisses—it was everything.

You weren’t too much anymore.

You were just enough.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The season's second episode features appearances from both David's son Ty and his father-in-law Peter Davison, with the latter play biblical figure Job and the former playing his son Ennon.

However, David has revealed that he didn't find out about Ty's casting until after the fact, when he was shooting on the new season.

Speaking with Variety, David said: "I don't know how that happened. I do a bunch of self-tapes with Ty, but I don't think I did this one with him because I was out of town filming Good Omens. He certainly wasn't cast before we started shooting. There were two moments during filming where Neil [Gaiman] bowled up to me and said, 'Guess, who we've cast?'"

David continued: "Ty definitely auditioned and, as I understand it, they would tell me, he was the best. I certainly imagine he could only possibly have been the best person for the job. He is really good in it, so I don't doubt that's true.

"And then my father-in-law showed up, as well, which was another delicious treat. In the same episode and the same family! It was pretty weird. I have worked with both of them on other projects, but never altogether."

[edamameimei]

always love you (megan skiendiel x reader)

"still, i'll always be there for you, how i do. i let go of my claim on you, it's a free world."

synopsis: the five times you wish megan would choose you + the one time megan finally does. tags: angst. hurt, no comfort! idol!megan x dream academy!reader au. an: just want to put out there that this is not a REAL portrayal of the people mentioned in this fic. all events are fictional and are for entertainment purposes only. CW: suggestive themes MDNI! kissing, substance use. swearing. megan is kind of a meanie head in this ): wc: 8109

⏯ now playing: godspeed - frank ocean

When you first met her, you called it fate. 

To you, it was fate and everything in between because auditioning for Dream Academy seemed like a lost cause. When you first saw the announcement, you thought it would be too good to be true. And the fact that it was global? There was no possible way for someone like you to receive good news, let alone be sent a rejection. You almost convinced yourself that your audition tape would become lost amongst the thousands that would be submitted. 

But there was an urge to do it— an urge so strong you couldn’t possibly say no to the grip the Hybe x Geffen ad had on you. Also, at that point, anything would have been better than going to college. So, you took fate up on its offer. 

And surprisingly, fate allowed you to hear back months later. Not only get a response, but also earn a spot with the project. 

Moving to Los Angeles was something you never considered before Dream Academy. You were so used to your small town that the idea of packing your bags and going somewhere so daunting almost made you drop out of the project completely. But there was a reason you were chosen, and you were determined to see it through. 

Once you arrive at the dorms, your anxiety begins to creep up on you. Most of the other girls met during training and development virtually, so you felt relieved to hear you would be sharing a space with two other girls who were also new to the line-up. From what you were told, one is named Daniela and the other is Manon. You hope and pray they are decent people to be around. 

When you enter the room, you realize you’re the last one to set up your space. You walk over to the open bed, smoothing out the sheets in front of you. Your eyes begin to twitch when you hear loud voices out in the hallway, suddenly feeling trapped despite being the only one inside the dorm. The thought of being stuck with 19 other girls makes you feel self-conscious. You flinch when you hear a girl’s voice booming from the other side of the door. 

None of it feels real; the experience still feels fresh, as if you read that email just yesterday. 

There’s a desire to run and hide, but you aren’t sure where you would even go. You decide to sit down on the floor, crossing your legs. Your hands shake as you rub your face, trying to control the panic that begins to settle in your throat. You’re supposed to be getting ready for your first big meeting with the other girls, yet the negative thoughts in your head run wild, the synapses in your brain misfiring at a millisecond. 

You grip your knees when you hear the door open. 

The person murmurs, “Oh shit,” upon walking in and it causes you to look up with wide eyes. 

Your eyes meet a pair of soft brown hues that makes your mouth go dry. You feel your heart beat faster as you see a smile form on her lips and hear her giggle nervously. “Fuck– Oh my god. I’m so sorry, I thought this was Sophia’s room…”

You don’t know who Sophia is, but you really wish, in this moment, you were the girl she was looking for. The stranger looks around the room, and you can tell she’s feeling a bit panicked. Her awkwardness causes you to laugh. You wipe your eyes as the nauseating feeling in the pit of your stomach disappears with just her presence. 

You stand to your feet, shaking your head. “A Sophia isn’t assigned to this room, sorry…” Your voice is a bit shaky as you speak, and you can’t help but feel relieved when she doesn’t comment. She simply nods, stepping out of the room with a quick wave. “I’d say more, but I really need to find her. I’ll see you later?” You laugh again, and it makes her laugh as well, both of you finding the situation amusing. You wave her goodbye and watch as she quickly closes the door shut. 

Your heart feels full as you turn back toward your luggage, a new feeling of motivation resonating throughout your body. 

Her name is Megan, and it’s fate that brought you two here together. 

You walk outside of the Geffen building and find Megan sitting on the grass with her headphones in. She had her eyes closed, trying to find some sort of peace after another exhausting day of practice. You slowly walk toward her, feeling a gravitational pull toward the black-haired girl.

You sit yourself next to her, deciding to lie down when the exhaustion begins to catch up to you as well. You put your arms underneath your head and glance at her, watching as she opens her eyes. Megan slowly takes her headphones off, raising an eyebrow. She opens her mouth to say something, but you beat her to it.

The words come out quickly and slightly jumbled. “You’re really talented.” You can tell your sudden compliment throws Megan off guard as she chuckles nervously. She looks away, her eyes crinkling. “Thank you…” You sit up and give her a soft smile.

There is a calming energy to Megan that provides you with a weird sense of security, and as you two sit in a comfortable silence, you wonder if she feels the same way about you. 

The rest is history. 

Wherever Megan would go, you would follow in tow. There wasn’t a moment when the other Dream Academy contestants wouldn’t see Megan without you, and vice versa. You often relished in your alone time when you had the chance, but now with Megan in your life, you don’t mind the younger girl tagging along with you to an activity that was meant to be solo or coming with her on a late-night drive. 

You have grown fond of Megan’s personality. She could light up any room she walked into, her bright smile immediately putting everyone in a better mood, despite the rising tension amongst the girls most days. She’s carefree yet so passionate about her dreams. Her ambitions motivated you to work hard, to solidify a spot in the group so you can continue being by her side. 

But unfortunately, there were more days than not when you can’t seem to see the finish line. 

You sit criss-crossed on your bed, staring down at your hands in your lap. Today, you will be filming the first teaser for Dream Academy, and the thought of the project going public makes you feel sick. Your roommates have already gotten ready– their gray uniforms on and their hair and make-up done so well that you can’t help but berate yourself for not being like them. You think about how you will never be like them. Hot tears brim your eyes, causing you to click your tongue in frustration. Your throat feels tight, and the room begins to feel smaller than before. 

In the midst of your silent breakdown, you don’t notice when someone enters the room. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you feel a hand on your shoulder, and your bed dips slightly behind you. The person scoots closer to you, and the comforting scent of lavender and the ocean becomes more apparent. 

It’s Megan. It’s always Megan. 

You let out a breath of relief at the realization, instinctively leaning into the girl’s touch, to which the girl snakes her arms around you, pulling you close. You close your eyes and hum in content, the anxiety suddenly washing away when you feel Megan hold you in her arms. 

“I can let them know you aren’t feeling well…” Megan’s voice is soft and filled with concern. You close your eyes as you feel Megan run her fingers through your hair. She places a soft kiss on the top of your head, the warmth radiating from her body comforting you. You can’t help the flush in your cheeks when you realize how close she is to you. You clear your throat, finding your voice again. You bury your face into Megan’s neck and murmur, “No, I can do it. Just give me a few minutes…” 

She rubs your back in response and nods. She says, “Let me help you with your uniform…” You roll your eyes at the mention of the gray uniform you are all forced to wear. You sigh, pulling yourself away from Megan, pouting at the loss of warmth. However, the moment you scoot away, Megan is already reaching towards you to grab your hand and lace your fingers together. 

It’s as if you’ve done this a million times already. You’re convinced you have. 

Megan gives your hand one last squeeze before standing up, walking towards the closet with a little bounce in her step. You giggle at her slight excitement and sniffle as you watch her sift through your clothes for the uniform. Megan pulls it out and carefully carries it to your bed. She places it down in front of you with a soft smile. Her eyes stay on you, and it causes you to look away from her with a blush on your cheeks. 

“What are you looking at?” Megan shrugs at your question, sitting back down on your bed. “You have updog on your face.” She deadpans, and you snort, looking up at the Chinese girl who grins widely at you. You swat at her arm playfully. “You’re so stupid.” You say, and Megan giggles loudly, her eyes turning into crescents and her whiskers evident on her cheeks. She sticks her tongue out at you. 

“Well, you’re stupider.” She says in a child-like tone. You roll your eyes, grabbing the uniform before getting up from your bed. You take a deep breath. 

Fate brought you here. Fate put this uniform in front of you. 

 Not only is Megan your safe space, but it seems as though you’re exactly that for her as well. 

You would watch the coaches tear Megan to shreds, pointing out her every flaw and every mistake. The coaching has become harsher, much more intense, and Megan has been on the short end of it. After their tirade finally ends for the day, the Chinese girl would turn her head towards you, a pleading look in her eyes. And you would only nod in understanding. 

You’d meet at Megan’s car and go to the spot you two claimed on the beach or the pier. The drive would be spent in silence, the only thing that could be heard is either Megan or your playlist playing while the windows are down. Once you get to the shore, you both take a seat in front of the thrashing waves, and you wait for her to tell you what was going through her head. 

But more often than not, she doesn’t tell you. She simply rests her head against your shoulder and tells you something more lighthearted. Something you’ve learned about your best friend is how hard she tries to avoid expressing how she truly feels.

You never push her in fear of crossing her boundaries, but you wish you could read her mind. You wish she confided in you the same way she confides in Emily or Adela. But being alone with her on those nights felt like enough. It should be enough. 

But this time was different. 

The drive to the beach felt more tense than usual. When you get to the shore, Megan immediately sits next to you, her legs pulled up to her chest with her chin resting on top of her knees. She doesn’t hesitate to tell you about the pain she has been feeling in her ankle. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise when she brings it up, having tried in the past to get her to understand the severity, but she always told you that everything was fine. 

But every time you saw her face contort into discomfort during practice, how she often collapsed to the ground once the routine ended, you knew that everything wasn’t fine at all. 

You adore how hardworking she is. However, it worries you how much she pushes herself. 

After listening to her speak, you place a hand on her back and rub it gently. You whisper, “You have to tell someone tomorrow, okay?” She only sighs in response and closes her eyes tightly. You watch a lone tear escape her eye. “I just… I just wanna be good, you know?” She admits, and you feel your chest begin to sting. You frown, scooting closer to her. You wrap an arm around her and pull her close, leaning your head against hers. 

“You’re already good. You’re so good.” You say quietly, and for a brief moment, Megan smiles. 

Her voice is soft as she responds, “Sometimes I wonder if this is actually worth it.” She wraps her arms around you and pulls you closer as she continues, her voice trembling, “Sometimes I wonder if this is actually gonna be everything I’d ever want.”  You sit there for a moment, letting her words sink in. This is the first time she has ever been so vulnerable with you, and you aren’t sure how to react. 

Your voice is quiet, but you hope it’s loud enough to show Megan that at least something has come out of the chaos. “I think… I mean. At least we have each other.” You look up at the sky as if you were making wishes on the stars. You continue with a whisper, “That means something, right?” 

It’s quiet. You begin to panic slightly, and you wonder if you said the wrong thing. You’re about to pull away, to ask her if everything was okay, but she only grabs your hand. She holds it tightly. It’s as if she let go, even for a moment, you would disappear. 

But you wouldn’t. You would never. 

She whispers back, “You’re my best friend, Y/n.”

A couple of weeks later, you sit in a conference room with the other girls, awaiting the results from voting and the judges. 

Your breath catches in your throat when you see you’ve earned immunity for the week. You glance at Megan, who avoids your gaze, and you feel your heart aching in your chest, scared of the events that will unfold right before everyone’s eyes. 

Soon after, it is Adela and Hinari who are eliminated first in the competition. 

You walk into the dorm with the others, the tension heavy and thick in the air. There’s a deafening silence amongst everyone, and you watch as all the girls flock to their groups, whispering. Some go into their rooms, wanting to keep their conversations private.

Before today, everyone was dedicated to each other. Now, with eliminations, it has become the real deal. There really is something worth losing in the end of all of this. 

You look around to try and find Megan, but she is nowhere to be found. You know Adela’s elimination would hit her the hardest– their friendship is close and tight-knit. So, it didn’t surprise you when you found her sitting outside the dorm, alone.

You approach her cautiously, your brows immediately furrowing when you notice she has been crying. You reach out to her to grab her hand, but Megan quickly gets up. She doesn’t meet your eyes as she hoarsely whispers, “I need to be alone, Y/n.” She crosses her arms and walks back inside, leaving you behind.

You stand there, confused by your best friend’s actions. You look around for a moment, and your lip begins to tremble, that familiar lump in your throat present. Your hands turn into fists as you finally release the sob you’ve been holding in since voting began. You want to run inside and find Megan, to find comfort. But she can’t even be around you right now. 

You wonder if this was all a mistake. 

Unbeknownst to you, this is only the beginning of what could be the end. However, you still believe in fate. You wished upon it. 

I. 

You walk up to Megan after practice one day, a small frown on your lips as you watch her pack her things. Her movements seem agitated as if she were to stay longer in the practice room, she would lose control completely. You reach out to her and gently place a hand on her shoulder.

Despite her distance from you, you know the other girl is going through so much mentally. You desperately want to show Megan that you’re there. That, just because Adela is gone, you are still in the competition. And you aren’t leaving her for anything. 

However, she tenses up at your touch, shrugging your hand off to continue her task. You pull away as if you had accidentally burned her. You fidget with your fingers in silence, unsure of what to do next. Megan zips up her bag and stands to her feet, swinging the bag over her shoulder.

When she turns around, she immediately widens her eyes, not expecting you to still be there behind her. “Y/n, what do you want?” She asks, a bit exasperated by your presence. The aching in your chest only grows tenfold at the pinch in her tone. You know she’s upset, but you also know you don’t deserve to be pushed away like this. 

You bite your lip to try and hide your hurt expression. You bite back what you want to say to her, what you want to confront her about, because you know Megan. And you know she’s hurting just as much as you are. Your eyes dart around the room to avoid her gaze and take a deep breath. “I just. I’m here for you.” You say with tears pooling in your eyes.

You shrug, suddenly feeling ridiculous for even trying. Your voice shakes as you speak again,  “I’m here for you, that’s all.” You look down at the ground and turn away from your best friend, knowing it’s best to give her the space she desires. As you walk away, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, tugging you back forcefully. 

When you turn back around, you feel Megan place her hands on your cheeks, pressing her lips hard against yours. Your brain short-circuits at the unexpected turn of events. In the back of your mind, you know you should push her away. You know that this wasn’t what you both needed, especially this far into Dream Academy. But when she pulls away and looks up at you, desperate and breathless, nothing could stop you from pulling her into another kiss. 

It was deeper this time, your lips moving against hers messily. You feel her run her hands through your hair, and if this is what Megan needed, you were more than okay to oblige. 

The other girls were relieved to see you and Megan back to your normal dynamic.

The moment they saw you two enter the practice room together the next day, pinkies linked and smiles on your faces, they couldn’t help but feel as though everything was finally going to be okay. But this time around, it felt different, more charged.

They notice the secret glances across the room, the subtle touches during evaluations, and they try not to bat an eye when one of you leaves the room with the other following suit moments later. For everyone’s sake, they keep their questions to themselves. 

But after Mission 3, when you didn’t receive an invitation to move forward in the competition, they all held their breath. Everyone’s eyes land on Megan as if bracing for the impact that would soon follow. But she stayed where she was, not even taking a glance at you as your hands turned into tight fists. They all wondered if that was worse. 

You manage to keep yourself together when you get back to the dorms to pack your things. Once you finish, you throw yourself onto your now stripped bed. You couldn’t believe that your time in Dream Academy has come to an end. You stare up at your ceiling as a million thoughts run through your mind.

Megan, at some point, joins you and lies next to you. She reaches over you to place a hand on your cheek, turning your head so you can face her, and your heart breaks when you see the sadness in her eyes. You close the space between you two, kissing her softly. 

You don’t know what this is with her. But you hope it won’t change once you’re gone. 

Megan pulls away and rests her forehead against yours. She looks at you with her brown, puppy-dog eyes, and you can’t help but melt under her gaze. “Will you still text me when you’re gone?” She whispers, and the question makes you chuckle. You nod and place a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” Megan bites her lip in response, and you can tell she’s trying to contain her tears. You sigh, removing your hand from her shoulder to cup her cheeks with both hands. “I’ll call you all the time. You’ll be so sick of me.” She giggles, and it’s music to your ears. She raises her pinky in front of you, her expression becoming serious. 

“Promise you’ll call, Y/n L/n. I’m in your walls.” It’s your turn to laugh as you connect your pinky with hers, a sincere look in your eyes. You whisper, “I promise, weirdo.” Megan sticks her tongue out at you before raising your pinky to her lips, placing a soft kiss against your skin. 

She murmurs against your hand, “You’re my best friend, Y/n.” 

You have the urge to ask her if that’s all you are to her. If you two really are just best friends. But you didn’t want to risk the way she looks at you as if you were everything she had ever dreamed of. You opt for blissful ignorance despite how much it hurts to do so. 

“You’re my best friend, Megan.” 

II. 

You two sit on your spot at the pier together, looking up at the stars. Your shoulders are touching, and the proximity makes you feel lightheaded. The scent of her shampoo overwhelms your senses, and her perfume makes it a million times worse.

Usually, you welcome her company like this. But as she talks about the absolute most horrid date she ever went on, you can’t help but feel detached from her. She waves her hands animatedly as she complains about the boy she saw and how their time together just kept getting worse. You nod passively at every other word, only speaking when it feels right to do so. 

Megan notices the shift in your demeanor and rests her chin on your shoulder, looking at you with concern. “Sorry… I’ve said a lot…” You shake your head quickly, turning toward her with a small smile. “No, you’re okay. I’m just… Thinking.” She furrows her brows at your words and sits up.

She tilts her head and reaches out to you, putting her hand in yours. Megan squeezes gently. “Thinking about what?” She asks quietly. The question lingers in the air with only the sounds of the crashing waves being heard. You look away from the girl, your attention drawn to the rising tide. 

“You’re gonna be a popstar…” You hear yourself saying. What you actually want to tell her is that there has not been a day when you haven’t thought about what you two could be if given the chance. You want to tell her how your heart sinks every time she brings up a new date she went on.

There are so many things you wish you could tell Megan, but you trust that fate would make its rounds– that this is all according to plan. 

But, you do admit, the thought of your best friend becoming a celebrity runs through your mind every once in a while. After leaving Dream Academy, Megan tried her best to keep in contact with you despite always being busy doing one thing or the other. It led to many of your texts going unanswered, but she was always good about calling you after a long day, ranting about the latest thing that happened at the dorms or practice. 

But now, since officially earning her spot in the group, Megan has become busier than ever. She no longer calls you as often, and every few days, you’d receive a text from the girl, apologizing for not answering you sooner. 

It bothers you more than you like to admit, but this is everything she has ever wanted, so you’ve pushed your true feelings aside. 

She looks at you tiredly. You notice the bags underneath her eyes and how her smile doesn’t have its usual brightness. Her voice is hoarse as she speaks, “I’m gonna be a popstar… How fucking crazy.” She says the last part with a laugh, looking up at the sky. You stare at her with a worried expression. 

“Are you… Okay?” You find yourself asking, and Megan faces you again, forcing a smile. She nods, but you see right through her facade. You clasp a hand over hers, squeezing gently as if to tell her, “I’m here. I’ve always been here.” And you hope she hears every word. You sit there in silence, the sound of the breeze and waves is the only background noise. You decide not to say anything more, hoping your existence would be enough. 

God, you hope more than anything that your existence means something to Megan.

Suddenly, Megan pulls you into a tight embrace. Her hands grip the back of your sweater, and she buries her face into the crook of your neck. You respond immediately, wrapping your arms around her. You feel her tears against your neck, and you hold her even tighter, your head against her shoulder. You sit silently, allowing her to release the emotions she has had pent up for God knows how long. 

After a few minutes, Megan’s sobs have subsided, and you stay there in each other’s arms, not daring to let go. She keeps her grasp on your shirt as if afraid you might disappear again. Finally, she takes a deep breath, pulling away slightly to look at you with red and swollen eyes. You look back at her, helpless, unsure of how to make her pain go away. 

You don’t even think when you bring your hand up to her face, cupping her cheek gently. You use the pad of your thumb to wipe away the tears that are left. Megan leans into the touch, her eyes fluttering close. “Y/n?” She whispers. You notice how she closes her eyes tighter and her lips trembles as she continues, “I just– I– Fuck.” She struggles to get her words out. You hold your breath, your free hand resting on her knee as you wait patiently for her to finish her thought.

She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes. “I just wish Adela or Emily were here.” 

You retract your hand from her knee. Something about her words knocks the wind out of you. She doesn’t notice your pained expression and giggles, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I have to get a boyfriend or something so I don’t keep bothering you with my bullshit.” 

You force a smile and stand up, ignoring the way your heart twists and thrashes in your chest. “Shut up and take me back home.” You say, trying to compose yourself. You stretch your arms before offering Megan your hands, to which the Chinese girl accepts gratefully. You pull her up to her feet quickly, causing Megan to slip slightly on the pier beneath you. 

She grabs onto your shoulders tightly to regain her balance. Your eyes widen, and you wrap your arms securely around her waist, pulling her close. Your breath hitches slightly when Megan looks up at you, her brown eyes twinkling. She giggles, mumbling a quiet, “Sorry.” You shake your head in response, still looking into her eyes. Megan keeps your gaze, the smile on her face falling slightly as she realizes how close you two are.

Megan’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips for a split second, but you notice. 

It’s been months without her lips on yours, and it has been driving you crazy. 

You lean in slowly, your heart beating faster. Your eyes flutter close when Megan leans in as well, your noses brush against each other, and you can feel Megan’s breath become shallow. 

She tastes like cherries, not like the strawberry chapstick she always puts on. 

Her hands messily thread through your hair and pulls you closer. She sighs into the kiss, and it only spurs you on even more, grabbing her hips. You lose yourself in the way her lips move against yours, and you hope, in this moment, she forgets about everyone else. You deepen the kiss in an attempt to make sure she is only thinking about you. 

After a few moments, you pull away, breathless, and your cheeks flush. Megan looks at you, biting her lip. You look into each other’s eyes, and it frustrates you when you can’t read her expression. You just want, for once, for Megan to choose you. To look at you and realize you were right there, right in front of her, choosing her. 

But she turns away, skipping towards her car as if the events that just transpired didn’t happen. You take a sharp breath, feeling slightly betrayed by fate and its games. 

III. 

You find yourself being dragged to Emily’s birthday party. 

You weren’t too sure of going in the first place. After months of dwelling on a decision, you decided to enroll in a college in Los Angeles to stay close to the friends you made during Dream Academy. Now that you were a full-time student, you struggled to find a balance in your life. If you felt lost before, you were now deep in the trenches, trying to juggle school work with a social life. And to make things worse, you couldn’t help but feel as though your best friend was once again slipping through your fingertips. 

After their song blew up all over social media, it has become much harder to contact the now ginger girl. You couldn’t even remember the last time you saw Megan, despite living in the same city. With Katseye’s growing success, you knew it would bring change to your dynamic with the girl. But as the months began to pass, you started to see yourself as an afterthought to Megan. She wasn’t even the one who asked you if you were going to the party– it was Lara.

But against all odds, you decide to go. The night ends up being a bit of a blur. You decided to take an edible right before to calm your nerves, and now you lazily sit on one of the lawn chairs in front of a fire pit while everyone is lost in their own conversations. Karlee sits next to you, smoking a blunt you helped roll for her. 

You and the Japanese girl catch up with each other, giving updates on what has been missed since your last interaction. You can’t help but wonder why you never reached out to Karlee after Dream Academy. You remember her being a great friend to you, always sticking up for you when something distasteful would be said about you. 

At some point during the conversation, Karlee’s hand finds yours. She plays with your fingers absentmindedly as she complains about recent drama in her life. You listen in and out, becoming distracted every once in a while by Megan. 

You watch as she dances with Lara, Manon, and Emily. At some point, Daniela joins them, and so does Adela. But your eyes remain on the Chinese girl. You watch as the girl moves her hips to the song, getting lost in the rhythm. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch your best friend throw her head back, smiling. Her features are lit up by the fire, her ginger hair swaying along with her. You shift uncomfortably in your seat. You can’t believe how attractive Megan is, and you can’t believe how much it still affects you. 

You force yourself to look away, not wanting Karlee to pick up on your blatant staring. You’re relieved when you look back at the Japanese girl, and she’s still talking, unaware of your internal battle. You look at the blunt in Karlee’s hand and point at it. You smile lazily, your eyes slightly glazed over as you speak, “Can I take a hit?” Karlee looks at the blunt and nods, laughing softly. She is about to pass it over, but she takes it back with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She speaks up, her voice teasing, “Have you ever done a blowback?” 

The question throws you off guard, and it makes you think for a moment. You look at Karlee, tilting your head with a curious look in your eyes. You decide to play into the game, however. You shrug and say, “Once… Are you asking to do one?” The statement makes Karlee look away, surprised by your question. She scoots her chair closer to you and looks back to see a smirk on your lips, still waiting for Karlee to answer the question. 

For some reason, you feel bold in your interaction with Karlee. It’s a way for you to forget Megan and her avoidance of you, but you don’t want to admit that. You want the reason to be because Karlee is attractive, and she is giving you her undivided attention. 

You watch the Japanese girl nod her head in response and suddenly, your confidence begins to falter at the realization of the many people around you. The other Dream Academy girls were only a few feet away. But Karlee moves the chair so she is now sitting in front of you. She looks at you to see if you had any hesitation in your eyes, but she only sees the lazy look in them, a playful smile on your lips. 

It causes Karlee to giggle, and you raise a brow in response. You whisper, “What’s so funny?” Karlee shakes her head, responding just as quietly, “Nothing. Just… Look at me…” You do as you are told, and you look at Karlee, swallowing when you realize what’s going to happen. You watch as Karlee takes a long hit from the blunt and immediately looks into your eyes as she places her hands on your cheeks, her fingertips warm. 

Instinctively, you part your lips and watch as Karlee leans in closer, your noses brushing against each other. Your eyes don’t leave each other once Karlee begins to exhale while you inhale slowly. There’s a tension between you two, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it. You’re sure Karlee has finished, but neither of you pulls away. You watch Karlee’s eyes flutter close, and against all rational thoughts, you close yours as well, leaning in closer. 

However, before the moment can develop even further, you feel a weight in your lap and a pair of arms looping around your neck. You open your eyes, widening them when you see Megan with her puppy eyes staring down at you. You open and close your mouth, a bit at a loss for words. 

You watch Megan look over at Karlee, who doesn’t look very happy that the moment between you two was interrupted. There’s a playful glint in Megan’s eyes as she holds you tighter. She speaks up, a giggle in her voice, “Sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just needed to tell Y/n something…” Your cheeks redden when you feel the Chinese girl grip the back of your shirt. You wrap your arms around the girl’s waist, securing her in your lap. The action makes Megan look down at you with a soft smile and she begins to tell you about something she heard from Adela and Emily. 

You feel Megan run her fingers through your hair and you listen to every word she says. As if she is the only girl that exists. 

As if you didn’t almost kiss Karlee.

She pushes you up against the bathroom door, her lips finding yours in a heated kiss. 

Your hands instinctively grab her hips, pulling her closer as she desperately grips your shirt with her fists. Her lips move against yours in a rhythm that makes you feel lightheaded. The quiet noises she makes as you grip her hips tighter fill you with the need for more. 

Suddenly, she pulls away and looks at you with flushed cheeks and desire in her eyes. “I didn’t realize you and Karlee were that close.” Her words cause you to let out a breathy chuckle. 

“We’re talking about Karlee right now?” You ask, leaning down to press feather-light kisses against her neck. She sighs, and you feel her grip on your shirt loosen. Her fingers thread into your hair as she cranes her neck slightly to give you more access. “You guys just seemed really cozy, you know?” You hum against her neck, pulling away to look at her with an amused expression. 

You tilt your head and smile at her playfully. “Does it matter?” You challenge, suddenly feeling brave due to the rising tension between you two. Megan bites her lip and shakes her head. “I was just wondering…” She trails off, leaning up to kiss you again, but you don’t give her the chance, tilting your head away from her. Megan looks at you questioningly and places her hands on your shoulders. “What’s wrong?” 

You furrow your brows at her. You can’t help but think everything about this was wrong. The way she tries to avoid situations, the way she thinks she can kiss you and pretend it doesn’t mean anything. You begin to feel bitter when you remember how, before your almost-kiss with Karlee, Megan barely acknowledged your existence. And suddenly, none of this seems fair to you. 

“Admit it…” You say shakily. She looks at you with confusion written on her face. She opens her mouth to respond, but you quickly continue, finding your voice, “You’re jealous.” Megan immediately jumps away from you once she hears your words. She glares at you and whispers, “What the hell are you talking about?” You narrow your eyes.

“You’re jealous of Karlee because this means something to you.”

You stare at each other in silence. It’s as if you two were daring the other to say another word. 

“I gotta go.” You hear her say. She avoids your eyes, stepping forward and attempting to push you away from the door, but you keep your feet planted where they are. You can’t help the scoff that leaves your lips as you cross your arms over your chest, looking at her incredulously. “Why can’t we have a real conversation about this?” 

Megan’s cheeks turn red as she responds, her voice raised, “About what?” 

“You know what!” You yell, throwing your hands up in the air in agitation. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Megan!” 

You feel hot tears spill from your eyes as you look at her, pleading for her to love you back. Megan bites her lip and looks down at the ground. She murmurs, “I can’t do this.” Your lips form a thin line as your hand reaches behind you, grabbing the handle to the door. You whisper, your voice breaking, “Tell me to stay. Please.” You shake your head frantically when Megan keeps her eyes on the ground. You take a deep breath, your grip on the handle tightening. “Megan… Tell me I’m not a second choice to you, please.” 

You look at Megan, a pleading look in your eyes. You don’t care how pathetic you look,  you just need to know if Megan still cares. You desperately want to know if this really wasn’t in your head the entire time, and that fate was still on your side. 

Her silence makes you slump your shoulders. Your eyes soften, and whatever fight you had left goes away. Your grip on the handle loosens, stepping away from the door so she can make her exit. She looks up at you with glistening eyes, and you simply force a smile. “I can’t leave. So, you can.” 

With no hesitation, Megan goes without another word. 

IV. 

You don’t hear from Megan after Emily’s party. You watch her life unfold through Instagram pictures and updates given by her other members. They don’t ask you about what happened, and you’re grateful. 

You felt as though you were grieving. She’s alive and happy and has everything she could ever want, and she was able to do it all without your help. 

A photo of her surfaces on your timeline, and it’s of her at a party with other influential people in Los Angeles. You stare at the photo of her mid-laugh with a drink in her hand. She seemed as though she was in her element, and you realized how far apart you were from the girl you fell in love with. 

Your phone buzzes with a notification, and you see it’s a message from Karlee. She asks if you are free to get coffee sometime. 

You tell her that you’re always free. That coffee sounds lovely. And that you’ll see her next Thursday. 

Fate sits in a locked box beneath your bed. It thrashes and screams and begs for another chance. But you have coffee with Karlee next Thursday, and that is how it will be. 

V. 

“Y/n, is it true you’re going to Hawaii to meet Karlee’s family?” 

It’s been a year since you last spoke to Megan, and she now sits across from you with Lara, her legs crossed, and her hair is now black with pink dyed bangs and tips. You can’t help, as you look at her, that she resembles the Megan you knew from Dream Academy. The one who struggled with her confidence and didn’t feel good enough for anything. Despite everything, you hope she feels differently. 

You hope she knows how beautiful she looks. 

Karlee rests her head against your shoulder and hugs your arm tightly. She leans up and kisses your cheek softly, causing you to smile. It doesn’t quite reach your eyes, but the Japanese girl chose you, and that’s what matters the most to you. 

You nod at Lara’s question, taking a sip from your drink. You feel Megan’s eyes on you, but you ignore her as you respond. “Yeah, we’re leaving in a few days…” You hear Karlee squeal excitedly next to you. She looks at the two girls with a wide smile on her face. “I’m gonna show them everything. They’ve never been, so it’ll be fun.” Lara smiles at Karlee, then looks at you. There’s a glint in her eyes that you can’t quite decipher. 

“Honestly, I always thought it would be Megan who would take Y/n.” You know it’s a joke, but you can’t help but wince at her words. You glance at the Chinese girl who seems to be deep in thought. You fight the urge to ask her if she’s okay. But you know it isn’t your place to ask– she made that clear to you. Karlee laughs at Lara’s words and takes a sip from her drink. You feel her tug at your sleeve, and you look at your girlfriend, who looks back at you with adoration, with so much love that you can’t help but feel guilty for wanting to check on Megan. 

She inches her face closer to yours and says, “Come with me to get another drink?” You nod, smiling when she gets up from the couch and holds her hand out to you. You take one more look at Lara, then at Megan. “It’s nice seeing you guys again.” Megan looks at you with an expression you’ve never seen on her face before. It almost looks like longing, but you know better than to overanalyze. You take Karlee’s hand and allow her to pull you to your feet. She kisses you softly before pulling you away from the girls. From Megan. 

A few minutes have passed since the conversation with you and Karlee, but Megan stays where she is on the couch. She leans her back against it, her mind running chaotically. She glances over at you standing with Karlee and Adela and notices a subtle sullen look in your eyes. The usual twinkle in them seems dim, and Megan wants more than anything to go up to you and ignite that light. But she knows it isn’t her place anymore. Megan made her choice, she made her decisions. 

Megan looks down at the drink in her lap, biting her lip. She thinks about how she accidentally walked into your dorm on that first day. She remembers how there was a time when it would be you and her against the world. No one saw you two separated because you were always right there with her every step of the way. You never left her, even when she pushed you away. 

She looks up again, and her breath hitches when her eyes meet yours. You stare at her for a moment before smiling softly. There’s a twinkle in your eyes, and it reminds her of the day you walked up to her outside the Geffen building. 

The voices of everyone else, the loud conversations, are all tuned out in this moment. Megan only sees you. 

And suddenly, it all starts to click. 

That day, and everything else after, was fate. 

I. 

You: cant believe u left this place wtf

You: it’s so beautiful!!!!

Megan stares at the messages from you, a small smile on her face. She can’t help but feel a bitterness starting to fester in the pit of her stomach. 

Megan: had to chase my dreams :) 

Megan: im glad ur having fun!

After Karlee’s party, she decided to reach out to you, not expecting a response. However, you welcomed the message with open arms. It was as if she hadn’t done anything wrong. But Megan knew something was different. She knew this time around, it wouldn’t be how it used to be. 

You: so much fun!! 

Megan: go surfing for me? 

When Megan first met you, she knew deep down you’d change her life somehow. But you wove yourself so deep into it that it scared Megan. She was scared of something so real and raw, something that would force her to show the sides of herself that she tries so hard to hide. 

But she would have dropped everything she had ever worked for in a heartbeat for you. And maybe that’s why she pushed you away. 

Megan: also take pics of everything bc i miss it sm

Megan: only if u can ofc

Because why does a person like that exist? A person you’d give everything up for? Why would someone do something so stupid? Especially when they’re just so close? 

Megan: can i ask u something?

Megan: it’s a weird question LOL

But no one told her she could have chosen you and have everything in between. Fate hadn’t caught up to her yet, and she could only blame herself for being a coward. 

You: yeah what’s up?

Megan: r we still like… friends? 

Megan lies in her bed that night wearing an old hoodie of yours that no longer holds your scent. She feels tears brim in her eyes as she thinks about you being with Karlee. Her heart breaks at the thought of you being in Hawaii with Karlee and not her. 

You: ur my best friend, meg. always. 

Megan: ur mine always too, y/n 

She stares at her ceiling and thinks about your hand in hers, your soft smile, the way you stay every single time. 

She wonders if fate will ever come back. She’d take it back and never leave again. 

Megan: can you call? 

You: cant rn. gonna hang out w karlee’s fam :) 

You: talk to you later? 

Megan sends a response that makes her heart ache in her chest. 

Megan: yeah, i’ll wait for you <3

a/n: im back n im making it everyone's problem >:) this was my attempt at megan angst oops i hope u all enjoyed....... i promise megan fluff soon!! <3

requests are open

[dumbbitchenergy17]

BTS: Where the Wild Things Are

Plot: An audition leads to unforgettable moments on a hit show.

Word Count: 6.3K

Pairing: Paul Mescal x Reader

Warnings: fake fight scene, protective Paul and Pedro, fluff, potential spoilers to Where the Wild Things Are [read here]

—————

The cityscape was something you welcomed, honking traffic, people shouting in the streets, and the chaos and beauty that came from living in New York. Your partner on the other hand was still adjusting, having moved in about 4 months ago. In that time so much has occurred, hosting SNL, attending premieres for films you both starred in as well as attending award shows that you had the honor of presenting an award at one. The most recent event that passed was the Met Gala and your birthday was now on the latest agenda. You hear the front door unlock over the light music and traffic from outside before clicking shut.

“I got bagels for the birthday girl,” Paul calls out coming from the entryway to find you curled up on the couch watching Hannibal the last show on your binge list. He comes from behind the sofa and you pause to lean back and look at him upside down as he gives a charming smile.

“How was your run babe?” You ask accepting the sweet kiss he gives before coming around easily sinking into the couch. His headphones around his neck, he’s dressed in a cap, a sleeveless t-shirt, and those shorts he loves.

“I found this runner’s route about 3 miles and got to see some of the sights around here before I got hungry for food,” He says while pulling out the two sandwiches, “Made sure it was an everything bagel before I left.” He passes yours over you smile quickly feasting on the treat.

“Wow my order is finally right, it’s a birthday miracle.” You tease and he rolls his eyes eating his sandwich.

“Ran into these two nice girls as I was leaving and got a picture they also said happy birthday. I was surprised they even recognized me.” He comments and you poke with your free hand his bare sweaty thigh.

“It’s those damn shorts, they’re a magnet to any Paul Mescal fan in a 20-mile radius.” Since he moved into your cozy apartment in Greenwich Village those shorts have become a staple in his New York City lifestyle. You’ve never seen more paparazzi photos of him in shorts since he moved here.

He smirks leaning close to you, “Are these shorts a magnet to you?” He flirts as he raises a brow only making you snort. The moment is cut off by your phone ringing seeing it is a call from your agent. Paul groans at the name, “Don’t they know it’s your birthday that means no work.”

“Oh hush, they’re probably calling to say happy birthday,” You say getting up to enter the home office. You knew most likely it was that but also something you’ve been sorta keeping from Paul and also Pedro and Bella. So during that interview, the year prior involving a certain video game that had a book it was mentioned of a potential fan-casting involving you. You joked about being involved just to appease the fans of the hit show. It was only after the Emmys with your win that news came out of the hit video game book Where the Wild Things Are was being adapted into a spin-off series from The Last of Us. Immediately the world blew up, with fan-casting and speculations of when what, and who. You were excited to see a novel you enjoyed being adapted but it was only when you got an email sent from your agent and told to record a self-tape that you recognized the scene and what was being asked of you. That was a month ago when you sent in the tape and it was only this week you heard back that you got the job. Luckily Paul was busy with his projects and promotions so it was easy to be at virtual meetings or having to fly out to LA for negotiations with The Last of Us team and your team under the guise of negotiation for the latest Star Wars film you were meant to start in.

“Hey Cathy,” You answer while closing the office door behind you.

“Happy birthday Y/n I hope you’re enjoying your day,” She greets you.

“It’s been good relaxing, definitely mentally preparing myself for whatever Paul and Pedro have planned for tonight.” That makes her laugh. It was good with everyone in the city for the Met Gala they planned to remain for your birthday. It was all planned out with spending the day with your childhood friends the day before as a pre-celebration. You weren’t sure what they had planned but with Pedro involved it could only be as crazy as your twenty-first.

“Well be safe tonight, but I just got off the phone with Jeanine. She says Craig and Neil are all good on their end with the paperwork. We’ll send you an email in regards to obtaining your script and any upcoming schedule. News of your casting will be drafted up soon to be published,” She says and you smile, “But tonight enjoy your night with your friends and family.”

“Thank you so much, Cathy. Guess now is a better time than ever to tell them I auditioned and got it.” You hear her gasp on the other line.

“You haven’t told them you auditioned?!” You shrink pacing the office looking over the collage you have on the wall at your desk. Photos of your friends and family, but also photos on sets, from your earliest projects to even now. Your favorite is of you and Paul in Malta exploring the city together. You had tried getting a nice photo of the two of you until a kind couple offered to take it for you. You guys weren’t even looking at the camera as it's taken mid-laughter, your head thrown back mid-laugh while Paul has a cheesy grin having just told a joke to get you to smile.

“I was gonna tell them when I knew I got a callback, then it just felt right to surprise them. So now here we are, I’m gonna see them all tonight so best time to tell them.” You say with a laugh and you hear her sigh on the other end.

“Well enjoy your night and congrats again!”

When your friends and family let your boyfriend and second father-figure to plan your birthday you had to know they had something crazy planned. When you first got with Paul your birthday was only shortly after you made it official so you didn’t do anything insane with him. You guys had a nice dinner with live music together and he got you a gift card to one of your favorite stores. But with you know a year together and knowing each other you’re not sure what he has in mind.

It was immediately swept away by your glam team who completely pampered you with your favorite rituals, cocktails, and Frank Ocean. Elvira keeps your hair in its natural style leaving it down, René creates this sultry look with accents of pink glitter across your lids.

“Guys what hell,” You gasp when Juliano reveals a gorgeous pink set from Brielle that you’ve been dying to wear, from the lace leggings, the asymmetrical mini skirt, the off-the-shoulder gloved top with squared jewels as the button of the opening at your wrists and on the skirt, to the scarf with a large gem buckle. Even down to a new pair of shoes that match perfectly.

“Don’t look at us, this is all your lovely boyfriend’s doing we just made sure it was in your measurements,” Juliano says and your eyes start watering up about to cry.

“No! None of that I just did a sickening eyeliner just for you to ruin it!” René scolds you fanning your tears away and you force yourself to suck them back.

“I’m sorry okay,” You take a deep breath before giving a big smile, “I’m all good I swear no tears I promise.”

The three of them pull you into a hug, “Alright go get dressed, enjoy tonight!” Juliano says pressing kisses to your cheeks.

You give them all looks, “You have any idea what those two have planned?” They all give devilish smiles completely aware.

“We have been sworn to secrecy for this,” Elvira locks her mouth before throwing away the key. You groan making the three laugh before they all head out to let you get dressed. Deciding to add a pair of square diamonds to match the whole ensemble when you hear a knock on the door.

“Come in,” You call out seeing from the reflection Paul enters freshly showered and dressed in a casual black suit the first few buttons undone. You can see him drinking up your appearance as he slowly stalks over as you put in one of your earrings.

“Hi, handsome.” You smile as his hands rest your hips pressing featherlight kisses across your shoulder slowly creeping up to your neck. “Thank you for the outfit.” He just hums continuing his path of kisses you hear him inhale slightly the scent of your perfume as you put your other earring in.

“I kinda regret planning this whole elaborate birthday night,” He mutters into your skin and you can feel his body heat against your back fully pressing up against you wrapping you up in his arms, “Just wanna rip these clothes off and give your birthday gift.” He bites at the crook of your neck drawing a gasp mixed with a laugh from you.

“Down boy,” You spin in his arms leaning against your dresser letting your fingers twirl the curls at the base of his neck, “As much as I would enjoy your gift. I intend to take this pretty outfit out at least once to celebrate my birthday with our friends and family before you quote ‘rip these clothes off’ end quote.” That makes Paul chuckle pressing a kiss to your lips before sighing and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Fine let’s go see all our friends and make you happy,” He grabs your hand and guides you out of your apartment.

You laugh as you follow after your sulking boyfriend, “Don’t act like you’re not gonna enjoy whatever crazy shit you and Pedro planned.” You're unsure whether to be excited or scared about what they have planned.

It started with a nice dinner just between the two of you. Nothing too crazy a simple romantic dinner with a drink or two. You were getting nervous as the night continued letting Paul lead you through the streets constantly glancing at his watch for the time.

“You’re making me nervous, Paul, " you say as you cross the street, your heels clacking against the pavement. You hold his arm, guiding him out of the way of other people walking, his gaze glued to his phone.

“We’re here!” He stops abruptly in front of a building that looks very pretty. He leans you inside before speaking briefly to the receptionist who scans you in before entering an elevator and pressing the roof floor.

“Paul, what do you have planned?” You give him a questioning look as the floor number increases and he only gives a bright smile.

“Don’t worry,” He presses a kiss to your temple as you reach the top floor exiting and are immediately bombarded by loud confetti cannons go off as you both turn the corner.

“Surprise!” A chorus of people shocked to see so many people there, your family, college friends, coworkers, actor friends, and people from all aspects of your life. The entire place is decked out in decorations, an open bar, and a DJ playing your favorite songs. There’s a cheesy grin on your face spotting Pedro beside Oscar Issac with party blowers in their mouths. A good portion is reuniting with people you haven’t seen over music and drinks, finally making your way to your core group. Bella practically tackles you with a hug most definitely a few drinks.

“Happy birthday gorgeous,” They cheese and you return an exactly as bright one.

Pedro quickly gives a bear hug pressing a kiss to your temple. “Happy birthday chiquita.”

Bella claps their hands, “Wait picture!” they pull their phone out and you roll your eyes striking a peace sign while Pedro gives a kissy face. Paul stands beside Bella laughing at your antics. The beginning of ‘Thinkin' Bout You’ by Frank Ocean comes on and you grin.

“I love this song,” You start dancing but Bella shakes their head.

“No hold still the last one was blurry,” Holding up their phone you return to your pose with Pedro, how you didn’t spot the mischievous looks on their faces until it was too late.

“A tornado flew around my room before you came,” Frank Ocean's live voice comes through the speakers and your jaw drops. Immediate laughter from them and cheers from those around you as you whip around to see the DJ booth behind you. “Excuse the mess it made, it usually doesn't rain in South California.” There he was in all his glory Frank fucking Ocean singing at you.

“Holy Shit!” You scream fangirling at this point. You cover your face with your hands in shock, feeling someone come from behind pulling your hands down.

“Happy birthday,” Paul whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss. You’re glad he held you as you sang along, or you probably would’ve collapsed. You’re practically floating once he finishes, wishing you a happy birthday, hugging you, and taking a picture! Fourteen-year-old you can die happily now.

“How the fuck did you do that,” You ask still in awe cradling the custom birthday cocktail made for you. They had pulled out all the stops.

“Pedro cashed in a favor to Omar who’s friends with him,” Paul says and you spot Pedro over with his singer friend Omar Apollo who is speaking to Frank.

“Paul this is insane…like this has to be the best birthday ever.” You say.

Oscar comments in passing, “Better than your twenty-first?” That makes you burst out laughing. The infamous 21st birthday was one in the history books even if you have zero memory of it, only videos and photos serve as it.

“Seriously this is ridiculous. I love you so much.” You kiss him and he doesn’t reject answering it in kindness.

With more music and drinking the party was well celebrated but soon winded down with your core group and family there. You were sorting through the gifts received as music plays.

“Shut up P, the fuck is this?” You laugh holding what looks like a bouquet but instead of flowers, it is gift cards taped onto sticks.

“A bouquet of gift cards duh,” He says while sipping his beer, “All your favorite places from father number 2.” That makes your parents laugh and your father claps Pedro’s shoulder.

You put the gift off to the side, “Thank you, Pedro these will be gone in the week.” Paul rubs circles on your shoulder as you lean into him.

“I have something for you as well,” You look at him surprised.

“Paul you're kidding, right? You’ve already done so much tonight.” He shakes his head getting up.

“You’re my girlfriend. You think I’m not going to get you a gift. Now close your eyes” he says before heading off behind you. Bella and your sister make gagging noises and your mother shushes them.

“Paul if it’s a dog or something like that. I am not ready to be a mother,” your comments make the others laugh. Paul's chuckle comes close again and you hear the clunk of something resting on the outdoor coffee table.

“Okay open.” Opening your eyes you see a case immediately recognizing the familiar shape.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Paul teases as you frantically fumble to open the latches with your gloves revealing a gorgeous caramel acoustic guitar. Pulling the guitar out of the case someone moves it to the side looking over how beautiful it is.

“This is exactly what I wanted.” You look over at Paul with teary eyes and he swipes a stray one before it falls, “Thank you.” You pull him into a hug and you hear your mother coo to your father at the two of you.

“That's so sweet of you Paul.” She smiles as you pluck at the strings already in tune.

“Funny enough, I have something to tell you all,” you say resting the guitar to the side. A bit of nervousness crosses your face being around your closest people.

“You're pregnant.” Your sister blurts out making your parents gasp, Bella’s eyes widen, Pedro half spits out his drink and Paul chokes on his.

“No!” You see those all around you sag in relief, “I am very much not pregnant you just saw me drink all night.”

“Oh yeah.” Your sister nods forgetting that key detail.

“Like I was saying,” You give her a look before continuing, “I’ve been holding onto this news for a bit waiting for the right moment and if it was all confirmed. I auditioned for a television series and they hired me as the lead.”

“Oh sweetie that’s great.” Your mother squeezes your hand and your father nods in agreement.

“That’s amazing kid,” Pedro says and Bella nods excitedly.

Paul squeezes your arm a wide grin on his face. “That’s incredible babe.”

“What show is it?” Your sister asks those around you nodding in wonder. You try to suppress a grin as you speak.

“It’s an HBO series…called The Last of Us: Where the Wild Things Are.”

There’s a beat of silence before absolute chaos.

“We’re gonna be working together?!” Bella jumps up and down shaking a shell-shocked Pedro’s arm.

“You’re gonna be a part of The Last of Us. Oh my god, my friends are gonna freak,” Your sister screeches. Your father tries calming her down.

Your mother cries, “Oh my god honey that’s wonderful,”

Paul is just staring at you who has a sly grin across your face. “It worked out getting the guitar. I was gonna buy one to start practicing.” You shrug smugly and he just laughs shaking his head.

Your family’s reaction to the news was well-received; once it was revealed to the public, it was an explosion in media. The other projects worked on leading up to the shooting were filled with questions about this spin-off show from such a hit series. It was stressful once you got to shooting balancing being in Calgary and then flying down to California for The Mandalorian and Grogu but your team made it all possible. While you already knew some of the cast through Pedro and Bella, working on it was a completely different experience. The crew and cast were all so welcoming having these new components added to their production.

“This is weird,” Pedro says when he sees your new hair for the first time. You flash him a look. “I’m not going to be able to recognize you with your new hair.” You laugh alongside your hairstylist as she tweaks some flyaways.

“I hope you can recognize me I’m meant to be your daughter,” Craig and Neil had reached out on your opinion about dying your hair to make Pedro minus the grey aging and you had been completely on board. You weren’t concerned about getting your hair to that dark brown that would match your co-star and were honestly excited about the transformation.

“How has Paul reacted to this change? " he asks as you head to the wardrobe together.

“He likes it, definitely pushed the allegations of me being your long-lost child,” You say with a laugh and Pedro gives a concerned look.

“I don’t think I could’ve handled a child at twenty-five I could barely handle myself.” He has the most concerned look on his face just imagining being a father and you laugh.

You see two men before you one you recognize as the man you let go, Trevor or whatever the fuck his name was. The other next to him you’ve never seen but the two did look like similar brothers maybe. The revolver is aimed at the Travis guy you do know and you see the older man raise his rifle at you while the man with the gun pointed at him makes no move with his own. “I fucking told you I would kill you if I saw you again.” You hiss trying to shift your weight letting a hiss from the burning pain in your side. Thomas looks down at your side and sees your hand pressed against its blood soaking the fabric.

“You’re hurt.” He takes a step forward and your finger rests on the trigger while the other man has a clear shot at you, “Drop the gun girl.” The older man hisses and you barely glance at him as you speak.

“You’re in my fucking house dickwad don’t tell me shit.” You say before you open the chamber showing there are no bullets left, “If you’re here to get your shit back, it’s all gone or used to kill this fuckers.” You wave the empty gun to show the damaged room and the two bodies that are with you.

“Like I said before, get the fuck out of here and let me die in peace. Better yet toss me a bullet and let me finish the job.” You spat leaning your head back against the wall, waiting to hear them leave or maybe give you a way to bite the bullet.

At that moment you shift, acting as if you were bleeding out when your back seizes and you’re unable to hide the true pain.

“Holy fuck my back is seizing,” You yelp, and Pedro and Gabriel break and you can hear the laughter from the crew and camera team. “Y’all this isn’t fucking funny I’m literally dying.” You hear Craig yell cut and Pedro comes over to your hand desperately grabbing a section of your lower back.

“Jesus kid way to make us feel old as hell,” Pedro says before helping you lay down fully on the ground instead of propped up in the corner.

“You guys need to kill me I can’t deal with this,” You’re left at the mercy of Pedro who doesn’t hesitate taking embarrassing photos of you stuck on the ground that ended up as a y/n on the floor meet and greet. The internet found it very hilarious to see a picture of Pedro, Craig, and Neil all posed above you as you give a double middle finger from the floor.

With Paul working on his projects it was a bummer not having him around, especially with the time differences it was either staying late up at night to be able to talk with him briefly before you crashed or the other way around. So when he had breaks between productions he had flown to Calgary to visit you and see you in action on set. When he first saw you on set was during the fight sequence between Derek and the other boys. There were lots of pauses given this fight ends pretty bloody in the end. The SFX team dabs a bit of blood from the cut on your temple and makes sure the blood looks fresh on your knuckles.

“Awww aren’t you so pretty,” Bella coos standing beside Isabela who plays Dina while in the scene but not as active just witnessing the fight break out. Pedro and Paul stand more off to the side since he is needed in the scene. You smile at them with your split lip as they finish up your makeup letting you pop in a capsule as the actor playing Derek finishes up.

“Alright camera and sound roll,” Craig calls out from video village as you shake out your hands hoping to get the blood rushing as your scene partner smirks, “Action!”

Seeing Derek with blood pouring down his nose fire in his eyes as he holds his fists up.

“You fucking bitch!” He hisses and blood coats your teeth as you grin more sliding down your temple and you bring your fists up waving at him to come at you. With a roar, he swings a fist and you dodge landing a shot right at his kidney. A sharp gasp from the sudden pain as his hands go to grab his side not able to block his face as you drive your fist forward. The punch brings him to the ground as you pin him down your fists slamming into his face and beating the crap out of him.

He lands on the crash mat while you land behind camera taking a knee while he’s fully on his back. “Cut!” Craig calls out as the crew gets to switching things around for the new setup as you pull your scene partner to his feet. Sauntering over to Paul and Pedro off to the side as your assistant helps pull your parka at least around your shoulders keeping you warmer than the thinner coat your character wears.

“I don’t know how you like all that stunt works,” Pedro complains from his chair with Paul sitting beside him in your seat, “Makes me want to kill myself.” That draws a chuckle from you and Paul.

“I find it fun. It’s like my personal stress reliever,” You say unaware of the mildly concerned looks from Paul and Pedro.

“That sounds mildly concerning…” Paul says from beneath his scarf. Compared to most on the crew he was bundled up the most from a thick parka, gloves, a heavy-duty scarf, beanie, and probably layered up underneath.

“You all cozied up babe?” You tease and you can see his eyes roll his nose a flush to it from the cold.

“I don’t know how all of you aren’t fucking freezing,” Paul shudders as the wind blows onto the set.

“Well honestly I’m sweating from this scene so I’m protected,” You comment.

“How are you handling the New York cold,” Pedro questions.

You laugh loudly, “He hasn’t experienced it yet, currently, his attire is t-shirts and shorts. I’m surprised you even wanted to come up when it’s so much nicer back home.”

“I wanted to see you, of course, I’d deal with this cold for you,” He says, pressing a kiss gently so as not to touch the blood. You give a big smile and both Paul and Pedro grimace, “I completely forgot your mouth was bloody that was frightening.”

“Would you still like me if I looked like this?” You question.

“I think I’d be concerned why you’re beaten but yes I would still date you,” Paul confirms and you’re called back onto the set.

Whenever Paul was able to visit your spirits and energy on set were doubled. Even the day before he would arrive you’d have a skip in your step the only thing on your lips, “Did you guys know Paul is coming?” “Paul’s flight gets here in about 4 hours.” “I’m so excited to see Paul.”

It was so nice filming and not worrying about the snow as the majority of the show takes place during the winter. You had the absolute joy of meeting and working alongside the two young actresses performing the younger version of your character and Lila your half-sister. The two girls were sisters so it was plenty of fun meeting them during the read-throughs and them coming on set the first time. Your younger counterpart Haley, and your half-sister Deliah were absolute gems and the three of you grew quite attached. Even when you didn’t have shoot days coming in to see Haley, only twelve destroyed her performances and kept her occupied during breaks much to her parent’s delight. With Deliah, it was such an easy bond with this young eight-year-old playing on sets, and having lunches together. Pedro with his father figure magnet quickly pulled the two girls under his wing and his welcoming personality those kids ate it up. There was one picture you treasured during a rehearsal for the playground scene where she sees Joel again after joining her parents. Deliah has taken the rehearsal as an opportunity to play given the context of the scene. Haley had been on set that day for a costume fitting and to see her little sister, so when the crew found you, Haley, Pedro, and Deliah on a couch in a greenroom all passed out the teasing and photos pursued. Your head rested on Pedro’s shoulder with his head on top of yours, Delilah on your lap curled up into your chest, and Haley on Pedro’s side tucked under his arm asleep against him.

Some set days were better than others, especially given the topic and character development she goes through. You thought it was a skill to be able to deeply dive into these characters to create an authentic performance but sometimes it felt like a curse how it had started to take its toll against you.

“Kids go,” Joel says and Jesse and Dina nod, starting to trail away he sees Ellie look at him hesitant before she too leaves. Joel takes a step into the clearing, the crunch of snow makes you whip to face him and he raises his hands like taming a wild beast. Your chest heaves as you eye him with sharp panicked eyes. Tears stream down your flushed cheeks as you continue making that pained noise.

“I’m not gonna do anything kid,” Joel says calmly as one of your hands that grips your hair moves to your flannel clutching your collar as if it’s choking you. Joel rushes as you drop to your knees with an unhuman cry like this tidal wave of emotions finally takes over. He pries your blood hand from your hair to stop harming yourself allowing you to death grip his sleeve as you scream this gut-wrenching sound. Joel squeezes you close to his chest as your screams muffle in his coat soon it turns into a heartbreaking whimper. He has to look up to the sky to blink back the burn in his eyes holding you close to him, his hand stroking your hair to soothe you.

“It’s okay…I got you,” He says as you tremble in his hold, weak sobs and hiccups as you break down.

“Cut!” Craig calls out and Pedro pulls back and is a bit surprised seeing you’re still crying this time with your head in your hands.

“Kiddo….Chiquita,” Pedro calls out to you softly, his hand stroking your back before flashing a concerned look to Craig who quickly understands the situation.

“Let’s take ten!” He yells to the crew who look in concern at you crying with Pedro trying to soothe you but their instruction from their boss offering semi-privacy.

“Y/n you’re okay,” He whispers, “Breathe.” He forces you to notice your erratic breathing pattern borderline a panic attack. A PA rushes over with a foldout chair and some water which Pedro quickly takes. He helps guide you to sit instead of being in the cold snow, your breaths shaky but follow his calming voice. It didn’t take long for Paul who happened to be on set that day to come running over with your assistant hot on his heels. Practically skidding to his knees Paul replaces Pedro who stays by your side rubbing a strong hand up and down your back.

“Baby, what happened?” Concern in his eyes as he holds your face wiping away the tears that slide down your face. “You’re alright, you’re safe with all of us.”

“I’m sorry,” You hiccup, swiping at your face and smearing some of the fake blood on your face. Your breathing had significantly calmed still a stutter with each inhale, “Oh my god this is fucking embarrassing,” You curl up into the chair and the three people around you immediately disagree with your comment.

“Stop it you just got in your head a bit, you’re alright,” Paul reassures you, cracking open the water bottle for you, helping you take a sip until you take over drinking to hydrate yourself. Paul nods to your assistant and they head over to speak to Craig and the team. “You’re okay baby, take your time.”

“I thought you were crying because my acting was that bad,” Pedro comments and that makes a smile cross your face and a light giggle. His hand squeezes your shoulder, “Take your time kid until you’re ready. You nod grateful for them and the crew. After a minute or so of drinking enough water that you don’t feel dehydrated, you nod letting them know you were good.

Craig comes over, “Are you good to go? We can give you more time.” You are grateful for his concern and you shake your head.

“Thank you but I’m good to go, I’m so sorry for that I just got so far in my head for the scene,” You apologize and Paul shush you while Craig gives you a look.

“Don’t apologize, we wanna make sure you’re good. It’s a complex role I can understand getting that deep in that headspace.” He says before heading to the crew as they prepare.

“Are you sure you’re good,” Paul looks you over, swiping away stray tears at your waterline.

“I’m good I’m sure thank you,” You promise him and he nods, pressing a quick kiss letting you know he was there for you.

“I love you,” He says and you respond in kind. Paul heads off camera though staying near in case you needed him. Both you and Pedro return to the ground and he squeezes your shoulder as a reassurance before you two hop back into the emotional scene.

You and Paul sit at one of the lunch tables watching Haley and Deliah being chased around by Pedro. The two young girls squeal as they weave through tables too fast for him as he takes breaks to catch his breath.

“Jesus Christ they’re fast,” Pedro hunches over his hands on his knees as Bella laughs from their seat. Delilah rushes over to you and Paul.

“Hide me!” She yells and you let the two girls crawl underneath the table hidden behind your knees as Pedro comes over with a playful look.

“Hmmm, I wonder where Haley and Deliah are..” He stalks by your table and you can hear the muffled giggles from underneath.

“I guess I have to take Y/n hostage!” He grabs you and you play into the bit getting up from the table.

“No! Someone help me!” You fight against Pedro as he laughs like an evil villain and you hear a faux gasp from Paul as the girls pop up from under the table.

“Y/n!” They cry out rushing over to save you. Haley jumps onto Pedro’s back and he acts like it wounded him deeply while Deliah pulls you away.

“Oh no you defeated me,” Pedro closes his eyes and Haley rushes over to you.

“We saved you!” The two cheer and you smile dropping to your knees letting the two girls hug you.

“Oh my heroes what would I’ve done without you!” You praise them and the two girls are already thinking up a new game when their mother calls for them to lunch. They groan that the fun is over but listen rushing over to their mother yelling goodbyes to you all. Returning to your table Paul has a very gentle look though his mind is a bit elsewhere.

“All good?” You ask leaning against him and returning to your food and he nods, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah, you’re just good with kids.” He says and you smile up at him. You were always good with everyone but seeing you, especially around children or younger fans you have such a light to you. Speaking at their level instead of above them willing to talk about what runs through their active minds. Any other person wouldn’t sit and have an hour-long discussion with an eight-year-old about what crayons would look best for their picture but you would.

“I always liked kids. Even as a kid I also wanted a younger sibling to look at so I always loved spending time with my younger cousins or my friends’ young siblings.” You hum taking a sip of your water, “I’d want them someday, they would be so cute as babies then growing up I would spoil them rotten.”

When you talked about children he pictured you as an amazing mother, teaching your kids to respect others but also themselves, nurturing and loving them with everything in your being. As he pictured these kids running around they shared a mixture of features from both you and himself. Would they have his eyes and your hair, maybe your smile but his humor?

“You’d be a good mom to them.” He says and that makes your insides all warm as you press a kiss to his cheek.

“You’d be a good dad to them too.” He looks at you in a bit of shock, surprised that you imagine that life. With the kids and raising them but with him as their father. A smile grows on his face and you laugh at the flush that crosses his face.

“I think we should have two.” He says with all seriousness and you laugh out loud in shock but he keeps pushing, “Keep it even so one is too lonely and three is an uneven number for everything.” He had thought this all out for your imaginary family together.

“Christ Paul I’d need a ring first before even thinking about a kid.” You chuckle keeping the air light but he just nods at you, his face sincere but certain.

“I can do that.”

[evandorkin]

Hello Mr. Dorkin! I have a question thats been on my mind for quite a while now. How did you and Sarah go about picking the voice actors for the pilot?

Did you watch the actors in a different media and knew you wanted them to voice the characters? Was there an audition process? Any and all information would be greatly appreciated because I absolutely adore the voice acting in the pilot, and would love to know more about the process of picking voices for these awful nerds.

Have a great day!

All but two of the voice cast were picked from audition tapes we listened to at home. Some of the tapes were actors reading dialogue from the pilot script, I feel like we also heard some general actor voice tapes, as well. It's been a while. If I remember correctly MC Chris started rapping on his tape and was very funny, he was up for Bill but we chose him for Ward.

We auditioned two deejays from a show on WFMU, an independent freeform, self-owned radio station in New Jersey, which I have been a fan of for decades. They were Glenn Jones and the late X-Ray Burns. Both often went into crazy rants on the radio, although as an actor Jonesy was way more restrained and we had to work to get him to get worked up as Joe. I think we would have managed to get him louder and more towards rant mode more easily after some practice if the series went ahead. From the start I had Jonesy in mind for Joe and X-Ray for Gary the Dirtbag, a characters in the bible that didn't appear in the pilot.

I ended up doing Ironjaw's voice mainly because I knew how he should sound, he was based on someone from my comic shop days. Because every actor could do up to three voices, I spoke a few other lines that needed to be covered, the Major Violence alarm clock and, iirc, one of the movie theater employees. Like Glenn Jones, I didn't have voice actor experience. Unlike him, I was terrified. We recorded my lines last, I had to clear the recording room of the other actors before I could do them. I got into the booth with a cup of water and a batch of Japanese Super Lemon candies to keep my "juices of life" going. I shook throughout the recording and kept my back to the engineers and everyone. I didn't enjoy it. maybe if the series happened I would have passed the role off or gotten more comfortable doing it.

[salmonskinrolltf]

Hey there. A little bit about me? I'm a tall, mostly attractive actor from Iowa now living in New York. My chest hair won't stop growing, and I'm always cast as the awkward, gay comic relief in shows. I guess that's why I'm here. It's silly but I've always had a crush on The Situation and most of the cast of the Jersey Shore. I was hoping to rent one of seasons before I have an audition for a more manly part I'm going in for.

[Thank you so much to everybody who submitted requests! I have nothing close to the bandwidth to get to all of them, so this is going to be my final Be Kind Rewind post for the time being. I’ve got so many other types of stories I’m excited to work on as soon as I’m able, but I do apologize if your request wasn’t selected! Here’s a bit of a long one though, as a finale.

This is a gay-to-straight story. If you’re not into that, feel free to keep scrolling, but I bet you'll like it anyway. Read my G2S ethos here.]

You eagerly rip open your Be Kind Rewind delivery and a die falls into your hand. Oh yeah, their weird promotion thing. You toss it on the coffee table, not noticing that it lands on 5. You’re too busy pulling out the Jersey Shore tape you ordered, excited to have access to one of your favorite guilty pleasures and use it as research for a particularly manly role you’re hoping to score, which could finally break you out of being typecast as awkward and effeminate.

As you push the tape into your TV’s built-in VCR (that you could have sworn wasn’t there when you bought it), you realize it’s already at the end credits, so you hit rewind. While you wait for the tape to be ready, you decide to run your lines some more.

“Hey baby, why don’t you bring that fine ass over here?” you say, cringing at how utterly wrong those words sound coming out of your mouth. You sound like a nervous pre-teen at a school dance, not the overconfident douchebag that the part requires.

You clear your throat and repeat the line, trying to artificially deepen your voice when you say it.

“Hey baby, why don’t you bring that fine ass over here?” you say, your throat tingling as it delivers the words in a perfectly sultry, slurred bass, with a hint of a New Jersey accent. Holy shit! You nailed it!

“Hell yeah, bro!” you shout, pumping your fist, too excited to notice the uncharacteristic slang you unconsciously used. You decide to see if you can replicate the voice for the other lines on your sides, and each word comes out perfectly.

“You’re looking fly, my man,” you say, dapping up an invisible buddy. Fuck yeah, that line sounded even more perfect than the last one! The deep tones of your voice echo through the empty room. You don’t even notice as the color leaches from your pants and they grow baggy and thin. However, you can’t help but be aware of the cold sensation slithering across the back of your neck, wrapping around the front to form a tight circle that feels like a necklace chain. A golden metal knot at the end of the loop seems to be stretching the circle with its weight, pulling it down toward your shirt collar.

It never makes it to your collar. The neckline of your shirt begins to scoop lower and lower as the knot progresses downward, the crew neck becoming a V, expanding into a deep V, and eventually stretching into a drooping U that leaves your shirt loose and baggy, practically exposing your nipples. The necklace and the shirt seem to be racing toward your navel, and the shirt wins. The necklace gives up somewhere around your chest, the knot unfurling into a golden cross that rests between your slightly toned pecs. Conversely, your shirt collar goes all the way down to the bottom, splitting the fabric in two as the color fades to black and the edges sprout rows of metallic teeth, becoming a zipper.

Now, you consider yourself plenty attractive, but you still feel self conscious and exposed with your entire torso hanging out, even if you’re completely at a loss to understand how this is even happening. You link the zipper together and pull on the tab, trying to cover yourself with the strange new garment that has appeared on your body. But something stops you from zipping up too far past your belly button. You suppose you’re subconsciously afraid of getting your hand anywhere near the magical necklace that suddenly appeared on you. Sure, that must be it.

However, thinking of the necklace makes you freak out a bit, so you decide to try and take it off. When you reach up to unclasp it, your fingers thrum with energy and you feel a sudden urge to keep rehearsing your lines. Yeah… Maybe the getup will help you embrace the character.

“When you look like I do, bro, you don’t gotta fuck with dating apps,” you say. Although you were still perturbed, this line also came out perfectly. You decide to lean into whatever strange thing is happening because, even if it’s fucked up, you’re definitely getting this part. In fact, you’re even starting to move like your character. You just scratched your chest by reaching under the hem of your hoodie and exposing a strip of your abdomen in the process.

You repeat the line, hooking your thumbs under the open part of your zipper, flaunting your chest. As the last word rings out in a perfect, reverberating tone, your chest swells with pride. No, wait, it’s just plain swelling. Your toned chest becomes downright swole, like someone has taken a bicycle pump to your pecs. Six bulging abs surface from your stomach beneath them, forming neat rows while your biceps and quads inflate to twice their previous size.

Although the hoodie now clings more tightly to your expanding mass, you can still see your belly button if you look down. That’s how you notice the tribal tattoo inking its way in a curlicue pattern around your navel, licks of inking flame forming the shape of the Sun. You chuckle deeply. Thinking about the solar system, you laugh at the fact that this tattoo makes it seem like the world revolves around your abs. Hell, you think, if you had abs like that, you’d probably agree. Wait a minute… For whatever reason, you DO have abs like that. Fuck…

You walk over to the mirror, admiring your new physique. You flex, enjoying how your muscles bulge, even through your clothes. You’re flooded with a surge of confidence and you rub your crotch, thinking about how hot you look.

A deep tan color emanates from the tattoo around your belly button, engulfing your old skin tone in an orangey brown, spreading over your legs, chest, back, and even face. You give a little smirk, embracing the newfound changes. You notice that the expression is one your face has never made before. It’s contemptuous, commanding.

You’re an actor. You need to hone your craft. You try out a few more expressions that you’ve seen on sleazy guys at bars. Condescending. Seductive. Proud. Angry. Each one looks completely new on your face, yet perfect, probably because your bone structure has been quietly shifting to give you high cheekbones and a sharp jaw.

You rub your bulging muscles one more time, annoyed by how much hair covers them. You’d have to wax at least once a week if you wanted to show off this definition properly. However, as you rub, there is less and less hair rustling between your fingers. You lift up your hands to see baby-smooth patches of skin beneath where they rested. Enthused, you scrub your hands up and down your body, the hair vanishing like marker from a dry-erase board. Once, you’re done, you admire your perfectly smooth and shiny figure.

However, that hair as has to go SOMEwhere, as it turns out. Your armpits, which were feeling more and more resistance as you moved your hands, are now bristling with jet black hair. You lift up one arm and give a tentative sniff, your nose flooding with a ripe musk. You try to swipe the hair away with your hand, but it won’t budge. You shrug. Nothing a little Axe body spray won’t fix.

That thought surprises you, because you’re pretty sure you use a different type of deodorant. However, you suddenly can’t remember the brand. And the mist of Axe floating around the room certainly suggests you use it all the time. Oh well. Chalk it up as one more weird thing about this afternoon.

The hair growth as clearly also affected the top of your head. Your hair is growing out into haphazard spikes that jut from the top of your head, forming tapered cones that begin to shine as if they’ve been coated in a year’s worth of gel.

You look… ridiculous? No. Douchey? No. Fucking hot? Hell yeah, bro.

You return to your script, fiddling with your hair to give it the perfect spiky muss at the back.

“Bros before hoes, dude! You know that!” It sounds like your character really believes that line as it comes out of your mouth. And why wouldn’t he? Hoes might be a good distraction for a night of fun, but bros are for life. Your memories of dancing the night away at gay clubs begin to morph. You’re still dancing with a group of men, but now they’re all spray-tanned, juiced-up Jersey Shore rejects rather than fashionable young gays. And you’re still rocking a half-chub in your memory, but it’s from watching a female go-go dancer shaking her moneymaker on a platform, rather than you grinding up against some cute twink or other.

You groan deeply as the memory tugs against the core of your identity. You look hot now, and you’re gonna get the role, but you don’t want to lose EVERYTHING. But it’s too late. It feels like your mind is expanding, but not in a Limitless kind of way. Instead, each individual thought you have becomes much, much bigger, taking up more brain space than it used to. Your memories of ex-boyfriends, Pride parades, and anything even remotely gay begin to circle the drain of your cerebellum, washed away by just a few base urges. Partying. Playing beach volleyball. Hitting on chicks.

You grab your script again to recite a few more lines, but the words start swimming in front of your face. It’s not that you can’t read. It’s just that, suddenly, reading is the last thing in the world you want to be doing. A sudden craving for beer pops into your head. It's the biggest thought yet. It shoves almost everything else out, and you drop the paper on the ground, where it vanishes into thin air while the room around you transforms into a beachside cabana.

You emerge into the dusty sunset of the Jersey Shore, admiring a few hot babes in bikinis who wander by while you make your way to the store. You lift up your shirt to show off your abs to a few of the hottest ones.

You pick up two six-packs of beer at the store and, why the fuck not, a pack of condoms, along with some other snacks and supplies. You decide to hit up the clothing store on the way back for some new threads, because your impulses are ruling you like never before. As you head to the checkout, you spot the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. You almost drop your beer, she’s so hot. Your dick is already stiffening as you say, “Hey baby, why don’t you bring that fine ass over here?”

[jbaileyfansite]

USA Today Interview (2024)

For Jonathan Bailey, one of the biggest perks of starring in a massive franchise is getting your very own Lego figure.

The British actor, who plays the swoony prince Fiyero in “Wicked,” is featured in a 945-piece plastic Emerald City set. Although he has yet to procure the toy metropolis for himself, “Christmas is coming and I hope I’ve been a good boy this year,” Bailey says with a grin.

The impish heartthrob has been using Legos to unwind while on a weekslong promotional tour for the blockbuster movie musical, which tells the origin story of the witches of Oz. “Just last night, I managed to (put together) the Atlantic Ocean in this giant Lego globe that I’m currently building,” he delightedly explains.

The fantasy film caps off a monumental year for Bailey, 36, who earned an Emmy nomination for his devastating work in Showtime miniseries “Fellow Travelers,” and spent the summer in Thailand shooting “Jurassic World: Rebirth” (in theaters July 2, 2025) alongside Scarlett Johansson.

“It’s extraordinary the types of roles I’ve been able to play these last two years,” says Bailey, who broke through to U.S. audiences on Netflix phenom “Bridgerton” in 2020. “I’m pinching myself. If I could have gone back and told my younger self that this would be happening, I’d probably do a flip.”

Jonathan Bailey brings 'boyish charm' to 'Wicked' prince Fiyero

Bailey is no stranger to musical theater: At just 8 years old, he played the pint-sized revolutionary Gavroche in “Les Misérables” on London’s West End. And in 2019, he won an Olivier Award for a gender-swapped revival of Stephen Sondheim’s “Company,” singing the mile-a-minute “Getting Married Today.”

But it was a viral audition tape for the musical “The Last Five Years” that caught the attention of “Wicked” director Jon M. Chu. “It felt like the thing I’ve always loved about musicals, where the song is just an extension of the dialogue. It felt like acting,” Chu recalls. “He just has that X factor. There’s such a boyish charm to him that you’re like, ‘That is Fiyero.’”

Like many, Bailey became obsessed with “Wicked” thanks to its Broadway cast album and 2004 Tony Awards performance with Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth. “The lyrics are so fascinating and witty,” Bailey says. “I remember laughing specifically at Glinda singing how this hat is ‘really, uh, sharp, don’t you think?’ I screamed!”

When the contumacious Fiyero arrives at Shiz University from Winkie Country, he instantly enchants the besotted Glinda (Ariana Grande), but slowly finds himself drawn to the green-skinned Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo). He also freely flirts with both his male and female classmates.

“Fiyero is confident and curious and kind enough to invite anyone to Winkie Country,” Bailey says cheekily. But as a gay actor, he’s grateful for the “years and years of progress” that have allowed him to be the leading man in a big-budget movie like “Wicked.”  

“There's been many Fiyeros before me, and many members of the LGBT community who have fought for times where someone like me could play these parts,” Bailey says. "This story resonates for so many people because it’s about identity and celebrates our similarities. In playing Fiyero, you realize what an ally he is to someone who’s outside of society. People are incredibly unkind to Elphaba, and he uses his charm and privilege” to help her feel accepted. “It’s really lovely.”

The 'Bridgerton' dreamboat heads to 'Jurassic World' next

“There's been many Fiyeros before me, and many members of the LGBT community who have fought for times where someone like me could play these parts,” Bailey says. "This story resonates for so many people because it’s about identity and celebrates our similarities. In playing Fiyero, you realize what an ally he is to someone who’s outside of society. People are incredibly unkind to Elphaba, and he uses his charm and privilege” to help her feel accepted. “It’s really lovely.”

The 'Bridgerton' dreamboat heads to 'Jurassic World' next

Bailey delivers one of the movie’s standout numbers in “Dancing Through Life,” in which Fiyero persuades his schoolmates to join him for a night on the town at the trendy Ozdust Ballroom. The song begins in the Shiz library, where Fiyero swings between ladders, slides across desks, and flips through novels using only his feet. The actor spent seven weeks rehearsing the choreography, much of which takes place on rotating bookshelves.

“It turns out in Fiyero’s boots, it’s not so easy to open books and read ‘War and Peace’ with your toes,” Bailey jokes. “I also started training vocally over Zoom while I was filming ‘Fellow Travelers.’ I would do these scenes with Matt Bomer where I’d be smoking and screaming, and then I’d have to come back and sing somehow.”

Ultimately, making "Wicked" helped Bailey feel more at ease taking on the beloved "Jurassic Park" series, in which he plays a bespectacled paleontologist named Dr. Henry Loomis.

“Dancing and closing books with your toes does not save you from raptors,” Bailey quips. “ ’Wicked’ is its own beautiful beast, but it leans so much on the original imagery of ‘The Wizard of Oz.’ It taught me to blur out the reality of what it means to step into an incredibly iconic story, and just focus on working hard and having a lot of fun."

Bailey teases that he has another musical project “on the horizon.” In the meantime, Fiyero will have a more substantial role in "Wicked: Part Two" (in theaters Nov. 21, 2025), which shot back-to-back with the first movie. He still regrets not taking home the character's black leather boots, created by "genius" costume designer Paul Tazewell.

“I did manage to steal some postcards from the Emerald City,” Bailey says. “Some of those accidentally flew off in the middle of a take and landed in my bag. Other than that, I hope Paul will send me Fiyero’s tight pants one day."

Source

[yawneneteyam]

ALL THINGS CONNECTED | j. flatters chapter two — i know what i want life to be

summary: growing up on the set of avatar: the way of water was a dream. your friends had become your family, all except for one. jamie was the one person you always found yourself drawn to, in ways more complex than the title of 'best friends' [3.5k].

pairing: fem!reader x jamie flatters

notes: based on jamie flatters documentary: all things connected. co-stars/friends to lovers. inspired by @cacapeepee. thank you to the wonderful anons and users who sent in names for y/n's character, I ended up going with tey'feyra! hope you guys like it, last chapter of establishing- moving onto their relationship more now. mentions of eating habits.

masterlist ⎸ chapter one | chapter three

2016.

it wasn't like you were waiting for a call. you had other things that you could do with your time. people are only sixteen once, you had people to see and memories to make. so if you were sat by the phone for a month, waiting for a call, people could call you pathetic.

that’s exactly what you were.. pathetic. because you had been waiting by the phone. wherever you went, your phone was on loud speaker, waiting for a call from your agent or from the casting directors. it seemed like you had finally realised how little your phone goes off when you’re waiting for it to ping you with a notification. 

you were beginning to resent people that were calling you, because they weren’t who you wanted to hear from. the anxiety that would erupt in your chest when your phone rang was piercing, but the let down once you saw the caller id was much worse. disappointed doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel. 

your friends tried to comfort you as best they could, but no amount of effort from them changed the way you saw it. you didn’t get the part. 

it had been three weeks and two days when you decided to face the facts. you hadn’t gotten the part and they casted someone else. she was probably gorgeous and didn’t go off script in her audition. you knew you were stupid to start making up your own lines, they probably thought you were unprofessional and weren’t serious. but you were, and if they gave you another chance you would show them.

but they won’t and that’s the reality you had to face. 

you promised yourself that you would accept it now. no more jumping when your phone rang, or texting your agent to see if they had heard anything. you started working harder, sending out self-tapes as quickly as you could- you were determined to throw yourself into other projects to distract yourself. you began to film again, making short projects on your own to remind yourself of the things you enjoy about film- not the heartbreak actors often face. 

you called your agent to see if she had anymore roles you could apply for. the desperation to work again was hitting you harder than it should’ve. sometimes your parents wished they never let you act, that you could just be a regular teenager with no pressures. you wouldn’t need to feel an overwhelming urge to impress everyone. but that was the life you chose for yourself.

“i need another gig,” you sat at the kitchen table, head in your hands with your phone on speaker in front of you. you knew that you couldn't just expect your agent to find you more calls that you fit the criteria for, but you could hope.

“i told you, i’m looking” she laughed, it was the third time in the last five days you had called her about getting more work. she had never met a teenager who wanted to drown in work as much as you did, you were dedicated, she could give you that much. “i cant just pull a role out of my ass for you, you know that” she sighed with a smile.

“well it would be nice if you could every once in a while” you tilted your head, a small disappointed smile made itself present on your face.

“shh, i’m reading”

“reading what?” you asked.

she sighed again, “a casting call i’ve been sent, so shh”.

you rolled your eyes and sat quietly, leaving her to read. you heard your mum pull up in the driveway, meaning you had spent another day not doing much and that she would be reminding you of that as soon as she got inside. she would rather have you working than sitting around moping.

“did i end up telling you that the crew from avatar got back to me?”

“no," you sighed, "but that doesn’t sound good”. you didn't get the part. you rested your chin in both of your hands with your elbows on the table. you had already accepted it anyway, but knowing now that it was real, felt all the more disappointing, “who’d they end up casting?”

"y/n?" you thought she didn't hear you.

"yeah?"

"you got the part"

2017.

that phone call changed lots of things for you. 

you were now a major character in one of the world's biggest films. with a new role, you had moved your entire life to los angelas for the next two years. your parents were with you, but often had to travel back home for work- leaving you in the hands of your agent, natalie, james cameron, and the other cast members, or their parents. you had been introduced to a whole new type of filming, motion capture. now, you could properly say you will never be able to take yourself seriously again after wearing your suit every day. 

los angelas was different to where you were from, it was much busier, but you had shot other projects here- just none like this. almost everyday you were training your lungs to hold your breath underwater. you worked one-on-one with professional free divers to increase your time period underwater, and sometimes in groups with the other cast members. 

character names had changed, un'su was now lo'ak, sai'ak now te'feyra. character designs changed, sigourney asked to alter the way that kiri looked. character's plots changed entirely, but.. you couldn't disclose that information. 

you and the other cast members were quite young, the next generation of na'vi. zoe and sam adored working with you all, but your favourite scenes to film were with your friends. you all grew quite close, just in your first month on set.

"y/n stop moving," jose, moved your skin back to face the mirror in front of you. he was one of the hair and makeup artists on set, he usually painted the dots on your face for motion capture. he also classified himself as a part-time babysitter.

"filip, stop it" you smacked his foot away from you.

"y/n!" jose yelled.. and this is why.

"he's kicking me!" you argued back, a smile on your face.

"i am not" he did it again, sending his foot over your way. filip chuckled softly, tapping your leg with his foot over and over.. and over.

"i'm literally going to separate you two," jose stood up straight and sighed deeply.

"good! get me away from him," you laughed.

filip leant back in his chair, the one up net to yours. "you're so mean to me and all i do is give you love" he held out his hand, "why do you do this to me?" he asked, a smile on his face.

in the main trailer, there were eight chairs in a row for each younger cast member with a small vanity space for each person. filip and you were often booked in for the same time in makeup everyday. you were just lucky enough to also have the seat next to him, which allowed him to annoy you on the daily. you had never been grateful to be an only child until you met filip, because if this is what having a brother is like- you didn't want it.

"you're still kicking me!" you sat up and yelled. he laughed in your face.

"you're so easy to annoy," filip chuckled.

"okay, that's enough" jose held up his hands, and moved to stand in between you and filip. "i need to put these stupid dots on your face, can you both stop it" jose smiled. you both knew that no matter how frustrating it was to deal with you both, that jose did enjoy you both.

"don't anger the man of the dots" you said, giving filip a pointed look before leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes. jose started painting the last few on your face, before he could let you go to set.

"i don't know why i decided to work with children," he whispered.

"do you get paid enough to deal with us?" trinity asked from next to you, where she was sat in jamie's seat.

you were lucky you got to sit with the boys in the trailer, all of them took good care of you on set. duane, filip, yourself and jamie were a little group who were always around each other. trinity often found her way to you, following you around. she was like your little sister, her sweet smile was welcome to hang out with you.

"trinity, there is not enough money in the world, sweetheart" jose shook his head with a smile. trinity giggled, spinning around in jamie's chair.

"y/n?" a voice spoke up, "is y/n in here?" rita popped her head through the trailer's entrance. rita was the head of hair in performance capture, an older woman who you loved working with. 

"rita!" trinity cheered.

"hi rita!" filip called out.

"i'm here!" you called out, keeping still for jose.

"we need you in around 5, okay lovely? jim wants to go through the leaving scene with you and jamie" she explained, coming up behind you- lightly grabbing your head and beginning to braid your hair so you could leave the trailer quicker.

"well if she sits still, maybe she can go run her scene" jose looked up at rita with a smirk.

"y/n" rita said in a warning tone, pausing her actions.

"it's not even me! it's him!" you tried as best you could to point to filip with your eyes closed.

rita chuckled, continuing braiding. "mhmm" she mumbled.

you giggled as rita laughed at you. you tried to run through the lines for the scene that you would run with jamie as best you could. thinking of the ways jamie might deliver his line, and the ways that you could carry on from that. but jamie was a dedicated actor, he always had more than one way to deliver a line- he liked to keep you on your toes.

"okay, get out of here," jose stood up straight and threw the cotton tip in the trashcan. "filip, you're next" he said.

"thank you," you said, letting rita tie off your braids with an elastic band.

"you're welcome," jose gave you a pointed look, "now, get out of my trailer," 

you found zoe and sam on a buggie together and quickly climbed on, knowing that they were going to main set. you sat in between them both on the back. 

"what are you shooting today?" zoe asked, fixing one of your braids that had fallen from it's spot pinned in your hair.

"i'm going to run through a scene with jamie and jim, and then we're shooting it at three" you said, holding your head still, making faces at sam as he looked over at you. "i have stunts later too,"

"yeah?" she asked, "one sec, i've almost got it," zoe tried to pin the braid back in securely so it would fit inside your motion-capture suit nicely. "what scene are you doing with jamie?"

"the one where i find out he's leaving" you pushed sam's hand away with a smile as he tried to poke you.

"ya, gonna kiss him?" sam teased, poking you anyway.

"ew, no!" 

"sam!" zoe exclaimed, "they're kids"

"i was kissing girls at your age," he said.

"oh my god," zoe pulled you into her embrace, "don't listen to him, he'll corrupt you". you laughed, as you leant into her hold.

once arriving on main set, you said goodbye to zoe and sam when you saw james with jamie and richard, a producer.

"i have to be honest with you," you said looking up at jim, "i forgot my script," you admitted, smiling.

"good thing too, because you should know your lines," james chuckled, sitting down in his seat.

"pfft, do you have no faith?" you held your hands on your hips, "i know my lines".

"you don't have the greatest track record, do you?" jamie leant his elbow on your shoulder, leaning his weight onto you.

"don't even talk to me," you shoved him off playfully.

"nice dots" he held up his thumbs with a over-dramatised smile.

"alright, can we run through the scene?" james chuckled, interrupting you both.

"yes, i'm ready" you nodded. you and jamie stood next to each other, knowing james was going to want to explain the scene to you both first.

"okay, so when we do it on the day, we're gonna have te'feyra coming down off of a tree branch and onto the ground with neteyam chasing after her," he explained, "so we'll get some levels out so you can actually walk down at the same angles okay?".

"yep" you nodded.

"sounds good" jamie said.

"you want us to just do lines? or mark it too?" you asked, taking a step away from jamie, getting ready to run the scene.

"we'll do lines for now, come back in around.." james looked at his watch for the time, "thirty minutes, then mark it" 

"kay'" 

richard takes a breath and pulls out his copy of the script, "te'feyra is walking away from neteyam and he says.."

"te'feyra wait," jamie's accent had changed entirely since you both met initially for your chemistry read. you and the rest of the kids had been working closely with a dialect coach to really nail the na'vi accent. jamie, sigourney, britain, yourself and trinity had worked closely with zoe too, the omatikaya having a different dialect to the metkayina.

jamie had grown a little since you first met, his voice was deeper. he had started to become more of a man. he shaved his head since you first met, it was only starting to grow back recently.

"you didn't think to mention that your family is leaving?" you asked, panting slightly to give the illusion of you walking away from him.

"it was not finalised until this morning," he argued.

"i find that difficult to believe, neteyam"

"te'feyra, please. te'feyra slow down!" jamie raised his voice, grabbing your hand, "i am sorry, but it is what is best for the clan".

"for once can you stop thinking about everyone else?" you pulled your hand away from his. jamie was a very physical actor, even if you were just running lines, he would find anyway to hold your hand or lightly pull you closer to him. he calls it acting, but james and richard could see right through it. "what about.. what about us?" you asked.

"what do you mean?"

"you are not a moron, neteyam" you whispered.

"no," he sighed, looking at the ground, "i'm not sure. my father wants us to leave as soon as possible, he has already chosen who will take over as olo'eyktan"

you scoffed, "great".

"you will continue tsahik training, you will lead this clan" jamie continued to speak.

"i was supposed to lead it with you," you raised your voice at him. "i don't want to lead, if it isn't with you. that's what our parents agreed on, yes? that we would lead together. i will not lead this clan without you here, netayam" 

te'feyra and neteyam were betrothed to each other from a young age. it was set in stone that they would grow up to be oloekytan and tsahik together. not that their parents agreement mattered, they were destined to be together by eywa's will. neteyam was all te'feyra had ever known, and now he was being taken away from her.

"you have to" jamie told you.

"no, i do not! i refuse." 

"te' please, i need you to do this for me" you heard jamie becoming more emotional in his voice, you only fed off of that. he had a way of getting through to you like that.

"and i need you to stay here," your voice broke. jamie looked up at you, he saw the tears glazing over your eyes. 

"we cannot," he shook his head, "it is dangerous if we do, the sky-people.. they- they are coming for my father, they will not stop"

"we can fight them," you nodded, grasping onto te'feyra's last piece of hope. "we are family here. we are strong" you grabbed onto his arms. see, where james and richard could see jamie's real reason for wanting to be close to you, they found that you had the exact same one.

"we cannot lose anymore people here. we are leaving, te'"

you paused, looking up at him.

"then i will come with you,"

"what?" he exclaimed, "no, you have to stay here"

"i am not staying here without you, neteyam. our parents chose us for each other, we stick together" you squeezed jamie's arms lightly.

"things are different now, it will not be safe if you come with us" jamie shook his head. 

"neteyam," you whispered, "i do not want to be here without you,"

jamie hesitated before whispering back, "i do not want to leave you".

"then don't"

"good," james nodded, standing back up, "good, that was good"

"notes?" you asked. jamie nodded in agreement. james admired the way the two of you always seeked more feedback from him. the two of you were becoming great actors.

"pretty happy, but i have a few things i want to write down and i'll get them to you before we mark the scene, yeah? he explained.

"thanks jim," jamie nodded.

"thank you"

james and richard walked away from you and jamie, leaving you both alone. jamie used one arm to bring you in for a hug, the other fixing the hood of his jumper. "how are you?" he asked. you squeezed him lightly as he held you.

"good. tired, but i'm good" you stayed in his embrace for a second longer, before letting go and looking up at him. "you seem grumpy today," you noted.

a smile appeared on his face, "oh wow, thanks so much" he nodded.

"oh, you're so welcome" you smiled back, he nudged you slightly as you both began to walk out back onto the tarmac outside into the sun.

"i'm so hungry" you said involuntarily, as you felt your stomach constrict.

"did you eat breakfast?" he looked at you whilst walking. you noticed the way his mouth always sat open slightly after speaking, his two front teeth peeking through the gap between his lips. 

"no," you admitted hesitantly.

"and why not?" he stopped walking.

you rolled your eyes with a grumble, "i had to go get my dots done" you whined, arguing with him.

jamie sighed, heading towards where the buggies were parked. "let's go get you breakfast" he said, "we've got half an hour anyway".

you and jamie hopped in the back of one of the buggies, a production assistant already waiting to take people from main set back to the tents and trailers. 

"when are you shooting?" you asked, fiddling with the pin in your braids.

"i don't start till eleven, i'm with britain" jamie grabbed the pin that you were playing with, noticing that you were struggling to get it back into its spot. you mumble a quick 'thanks' before he puts it back in.

"i haven't seen him yet" you tell jamie, as he checks if your hair is secure.

"he's probably in his trailer," jamie said before clearing his throat, pulling his hood off of his head.

"did you eat breakfast?" you asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

"yes, before i came to set," he smiled, "because normal people eat three meals a day-" he gave you a pointed look- "you know, to nourish their bodies?"

you rolled your eyes at him. jamie was always on everyone about taking care of themselves, but in the month you had been on set, you seemed to notice that he tended to look after everyone else, rather than himself sometimes.

"what scene are you filming?" you changed the subject.

jamie coughed into his hand before answering, "uh, we're doing the fight scene, when he goes to see payakan"

"mhm, fun. i might come watch"

"oh, im honoured" he held his hand to his heart.

"i need to find my script though," you noted.

he scrunched his eyebrows together, his teeth peeking through again in his fit of confusion, "i thought you said it was in your trailer?".

"i lied," you sighed, "i've lost it".

"jesus christ" he let a breath out, "you amaze me,".

"if the toast at craft is burnt, i don't want it" you jamie laughed as you changed the subject again.

"oh my god. yes princess, we'll get you some toast that isn't burnt" he nodded, hopping off the buggie now that we were back at the tents, "miss first world problems".

"i just want nice toast," you defended yourself.

"we're going to play basketball tonight at the park across from duane's parent's hotel if you wanna come?" jamie asked, holding open the curtain of the craft tent.

"yeah," you smile, "i'd love to come"

taglist. @littlexscarletxwitch, @thexplosivegirl, @lagoonabluebabe, @rexorangecouny, @ilovejakesullysdick @rhiannonhippiegirl @leelumenaura @playboykenz @couragemydearheart @whos6claire @m-1234 @coconut-dreamz @graysonshaven @stvpidscvpid @ok-boke @cvsmic-love @sully-stick-together @caniuseurname @fandom-geek17

[thelaurenshippen]

finally taking the time to read through the SAG agreement summary and oof, I hope they have an AI town hall soon because...well, there are things to discuss!

so, in case folks are curious, here are my immediate takeaways from the deal as a SAG actor, a SAG producer, and person who is not any kind of expert but spends a lot of time being skeptical of contracts I sign. this is a summation/commentary, not a holistic breakdown of every point, nor even an in-depth discussion of the points I do talk about. and it is, of course, in no way legal advice or voting advice.

this post is already maybe the longest post I've ever written on tumblr (lol) and I feel like I've barely scratched the surface. to be clear, nothing I'm saying here represents how I'm going to vote, how I think other actors should vote, or my be-all-end-all stance on a particular issue. this is me reading through, flagging what concerns me, and asking myself questions. and I'm here to take your questions too! though of course my expertise is limited.

(what?? something I wrote got annoying long?? in my tumblr? it's more likely, etc. huge write-up after the cut)

the good

self-tape stuff: this is one of the more niche/the thing that the general public will find least interesting, but they've put in a lot of provisions to make sure self-tape auditions have limits (# of pages, no stunts, no nudity, doesn't have to be professionally shot, etc.) which is amazing because these types of auditions have gotten out of control since the pandemic. this feels like a great gain

data transparency: in no world did I think the streamers were ever going to agree to any data sharing with either the wga or sag so even though the data is limited, this still feels huge to me.

folks who sing and dance will be paid for both of those things now, which is great

they've added MLK day and Juneteenth as holidays (about time)

a performer cannot be required to translate their own lines

principal performers are required to be given hair and makeup consultation or reimbursed for obtaining their own services - this seems like a small thing, but it's being put in here pretty much entirely because HMU services have generally been appalling when it comes to textured hair/a variety of skin tones. there's also stuff in here about working to hire more diverse HMU artists

it looks like it's going to be easier/provide a path for folks getting IMDb credits even if they're not credited on screen

miscellany: there's a bunch of gains in wage increases, P&H increases, relocation fees, franchise language etc. that all seem good to me, though my limited knowledge on those subjects prevents me from going in depth on them.

this is not important, but it tickled me, there's a term to replace all instances of "telegraph" in the contract with "email & text" which like...why has it taken us thirty years to do that lol.

the "...hm..."

intimacy coordinators: oof. when I watched the press conference SAG gave, I was fucking thrilled when they said that the new agreement required folks to hire intimacy coordinators for nudity and simulated sex scenes. that was almost reason enough for me to vote for it tbh - not requiring it is the exact reason I voted no on our last contract. however, reading the contract summary now, the exact language is: "Producer must use best efforts to engage an Intimacy Coordinator for scenes involving nudity or simulated sex and will consider in good faith any request by a performer to engage an Intimacy Coordinator for other scenes. Producer shall not retaliate against a performer for requesting an Intimacy Coordinator." this....sucks. "best efforts" and "good faith" are not the same as "required". IMO, an intimacy coordinator is the same thing as having a stunt coordinator or, like, any number of health and safety requirements. OSHA doesn't say you must "in good faith" put your "best effort" to providing fire exits. it's great that performers can request coordinators for any kind of scene, and this is still the strongest language we've ever had in a contract but....c'mon guys.

residuals: look, I can't speak to these new terms in any concrete way. there are increases, there are bonuses for streaming success, there's a whole thing about a fund regarding those successes that I need explained to me more in depth, but overall, it looks like we made some in-roads here. as someone who employs actors under digital distribution contracts that has no residuals (podcasts), I know how genuinely cumbersome the unholy trifecta of "views-success-profit" can be (as in views do not equal success, success does not equal profit, etc.). I also have no sympathy when the majority of companies dealing with that cumbersome trifecta are massive media conglomerates. anyway, long story short, idk if this is good enough, I'm hoping to attend the next info meeting sag has.

the bad

the new hair/makeup provisions are explicitly for principal actors. while I hope it leads to better, more inclusive HMU services all around I haaaate that this implies supporting or background actors (who oftentimes also have to sit in HMU) don't deserve the consideration. (then again, background actors are usually required to do their own HMU/bring their own costumes, but for productions where that's not the case, the same HMU provisions should apply IMO)

as with every contract, there's language that could be stronger, clarity that needs to exist, and important things missing - but this isn't the final contract and I'm not a lawyer, so I'm gonna leave that stuff to the experts.

but, "lauren", you say, "what about all the AI stuff? where does that go?" well, reader, I was planning on including that in the above but it's the hot-button issue right now and I think it's wickedly complicated, so I wanted to break it down separately, after I had a chance to point out all the good-bad-in-between stuff that's not getting talked about.

a note: in my career, I've learned there's two big things to keep in mind when reading a contract you might sign:

what is the worst case interpretation of this language (thank you to my lawyer, prince among men, for teaching me how to do this in practice (that said, anything I say here is not legal advice, he'd also want me to say that lol))

what are you willing to lose/compromise on/what are the limits of your pragmatism? contracts are not about a company giving you everything you want out of the goodness of their heart - it is always a compromise. pragmatism has to be a part of the equation.

so, with that said, I'm going to play a little devil's advocate here, and a) try to find the good/the pragmatic and b) catastrophize the worst case scenario. but first, it might be handy to look at this SAG infographic for some basic definitions. let's go.

the AI good

a ton of stuff here requires consent. that is not a small thing, and the consent continues even after your death (whether it was a yes or no; though this can be complicated by your estate/your union)

the language does establish that the consent must be a separate signing from the employment contract, even if its in the contract, which is great (but more on that below - timing matters)

actors often do get paid for use of their digital replicas, though it's different based on the use/type of replica.

the actor must be provided with a "reasonably specific description of the intended use". this language is vaguer than I would like, because it allows producers to decide what "reasonably specific" and "intended" means - there's always going to be some vagueness when it comes to this specific thing, but a good start would be for producers to require not blanket consent, but conditional consent for each significant use of digital replicas.

if the replicas are being used in other mediums, that must also be consented to, thank god.

replicas cannot be used in place of background actor counts on a given day - if I'm understanding this correctly, this means a production can't just have a bunch of fake background actors by themselves, they have to engage real people up to a certain number first (which in this new contract is 25 for TV and 85 for movies). we're already filling in background with digital people or copy-pasting of the same crowd over and over and have been doing so since at least the late 90s, so it's good we're continuing to put up boundaries around that.

the AI "...hm..."

it's unclear (to me) when an actor can be asked to consent. IMO, everything is meaningless if the consent is happening as part of regular contract negotiations. these things have to happen when - and only when - the actor has already been engaged in a role and feels empowered to say no

the use of independently created replicas (replicas pulled from existing footage, not created by the actor) being allowed without consent under first amendment reasoning - this is obviously concerning a lot of people bc first amendment arguments are so broad. that said, there's a pragmatism part of me that understands this is already happening/has been happening for a while and used in ways I think are perfectly fine - I was just watching the new episode of For All Mankind (one of the best TV shows right now!) and it's an alternate history, which meant that in the opening scenes of this season they had some bonkers good deep fakes of Al Gore saying stuff he never said. I think that's okay to do in a fiction show that imagines a different US history! "but Lauren", you might be saying, "Al Gore isn't a member of SAG!" are you sure? are you positive? because I'm pretty certain he is - he was in several episodes of 30 Rock, way more people are in SAG than you think (every NPR reporter for instance), and the two worst presidents we've had in the last 50 years (yes, those ones), are both definitely members of SAG (even if one is dead). now, the other side of this is that public figures like politicians are under a different social contract than actors, and if they wanted to sue, they could, unlike the average SAG actor who might have their image abused. this is why this is in the "hm" column - deep fakes and parody/satire/commentary use of replicas is already here and there's always going to be a 1st amendment argument to make, so we need to figure out how best to limit those and protect the most vulnerable.

alteration: with this language, a project can digitally alter without consent if the script and performance stays "substantially" the same. again, this language is too mealy-mouthed. I don't know that I have a huge problem with a line of dialogue getting replaced with a digital version of that actors voice if, for instance, a word was mispronounced, or wind garbled the sound or whatever - yes, it would eliminate the need for ADR, but if we put some limit on it like..."if there are more than 5 lines in a given episode/movie that require digital alteration in the service of clarity, the actor must be engaged for an ADR session or paid for the digital replacement" then I could see this being workable. I'm also personally okay with things like costumes being digitally altered but, again, we need limitations on that. digital altering cannot replace the art of costuming but, for instance, if a costume needs to be altered to include a hate symbol or something, I think that's fine (example: I have friends who worked at the VFX house for an alternate history TV show that involved a lot of Nazi costuming and set design - a huge part of that VFX house's job was to put swastikas in places, rather than props making nazi flags. I'm okay with that!) but again, these fringe cases do not a compelling arugment make, and this contract language can be interpreted too broadly for my comfort! like everything else in this "hm" category, I need to see the final contract language to decide.

the AI bad

there's a bunch of circumstances in which actors don't get paid for creating their replica/use of it and those circumstances are too broad for my taste.

synthetic performers - this is just awful. no. no, we should not be allowing AI to generate entire actors. just............no. there's some language about the producers having to talk to the union if the synthetic performer is "used in place of a performer who would have been engaged under this Agreement in a human role" but this doesn't apply to non-human characters so....wouldn't that be all roles?? leaving the producers room to be like "this role has to be synthetic, we never would've cast a human!" is bullshit. also, even if we're having AI create a magical talking unicorn whole cloth (which, like, also no, we have artists for this), that unicorn still needs to be voiced by a human person. this whole section is a disaster.

the exceptions to consent for digital alteration are bad-bad. I talked about the potential ADR replacement above and that has a whole host of issues with it that I didn't even get into, but I can see the argument. the rest are very troubling:

there is an exception under "any circumstance when dubbing or use of a double is permitted under the Codified Basic Agreement or Television Agreement" - okay, so does this mean we can replace dubbing artists and stunt performers entirely? this section is about digital alteration, but who's to say alteration couldn't turn an actor broadly miming a fight into an entirely digital, expertly performed fight that usually a stunt double would have done? with AI translation technology, does this mean we're replacing VO artists for dubs entirely? bad!

similarly, "Adjusting lip and/or other facial or body movement and/or the voice of the performer to a foreign language, or for purposes of changes to dialogue or photography necessary for license or sale to a particular market" - Justine Bateman has a great twitter thread on the terrible puppetry potential of this but I want to draw attention to the particular market bit - we all know that selling to china is such a huge part of studios' strategies that they'll remove entire scenes or lines around queer stuff. to me, this clause makes all of that so much easier. I know the argument here is going to be "we can replace swear words and license it for kids!" which.......sure? fine? but, uh, we already have ways to deal with that? and the potential for abuse here is terrifying to me. with all the digital alteration stuff too, there's just so much icky implication for the beauty/body standard to get so much worse.

if a background actor’s digital replica is used in the role of a principal performer, they'll be paid as if they actually performed the days for that role, which, sure, but uhhhh why are we saying it's okay for a digital replica of a background actor to suddenly be a leading role!?!?! I can't think of anything more demoralizing than going to set to act in background (a job I've done! an important job! a fun job a lot of the time! but creatively limited) and then getting a much bigger role (the dream!) and.....not being able to, you know, act that role or be in scenes with other principal actors or do the thing that you've dedicated your life to doing. nightmare stuff.

woof. there's so much more to say but I'm going to leave it there. these are the concerns I'm going to go into SAG's meetings with, and the concerns I'll be considering as I decide how to vote. I know there are things I didn't address and very possibly things I misinterpreted or misrepresented - if you're an actor, I highly recommend a) reading that Justine Bateman thread and b) attending SAG's meetings to ask questions and express your concerns. and I'd love to hear what y'all think! my ask box is open.

[egtotaldramatakes]

this MIGHT be me going just the slightest bit insane, but I've realized that most of the tdi characters prefer their mothers over their fathers

— Alejandro mentions how his mom didn't allow him to eat candy because he was sweet enough already

— DJ

— Geoff talking about his mom making him mac n' cheese to cheer him up

— Duncan's audition tape is pretty self explanatory + he wrote a letter to his mom IN JAIL to greet her a happy birthday

— Trent calling out to his mom when he was being cradled by DJ + the whole mimephobia

— Gwen's reason for joining TDI was because "The money would surely help out her mom"

— Tyler's mom left him but he still cried out "mommy" when he got hit in the balls

— In Bridgette's autobiography, it says that she's "Best friends with her mom"

— Brick won the "Most letters sent to mom award"

there's probably more, but those are the only ones i remember

.

[deadaccount1211]

Reboot HCs

As a current college student I feel like it’s my duty to determine what major the Reboot cast would pick. (Some of this I kinda have to bullshit n guess) But let’s get into it.

Axel- Military/ Studio Art major

Joins the military after high school. Completes basic training and moves to infantry. After a few months of military training she goes to school and studies art.

(Idk if this entirely accurate as I had to look up info for the military shit. And there isn’t much to Axel’s character besides the zombie bit. But there’s one moment in s2 where she’s painting Ripper so I’m just taking that as indication that she likes art.)

Bowie- Communications Major

As seen on the show, Bowie likes to gossip and socialize. So I don’t think it’s a stretch to think he’d choose Communications as a major. I think he’d also do theatre and basketball while he’s in college. After graduating I could see him landing a job in PR.

Caleb- Environmental Engineering major

Now I might be wrong since I don’t have Caleb’s scenes memorized off the top of my head. But I believe in season 2 episode 6 Caleb said he wanted to get into environmental engineering? Or something similar to that? So yeah pretty self explanatory. 

Also I think Caleb would want to join a frat to make friends. But once he realizes how toxic the culture is, he just leaves and does his own thing.

Chase- Streamer University

Chase is an already successful influencer with tons of cash. I don’t think he would want to go to college? At best he might go to that Streamer University thing that Kai Cenat is doing. Otherwise this guy ain’t getting no degree.

Since he’s most likely based off of Logan or Jake Paul. I like to imagine he becomes a boxer/ crypto bro in his future.

Damien- Chemistry/ Bachelor’s In Education

This one is also pretty self explanatory if you’ve seen his audition tape. But he gives me out of touch science teacher vibes. Like he would grow up to be that one science teacher that makes corny jokes that no one likes. “Why do you never trust an atom? Because they make up everything!”  He’d have to do an extra two years to earn that bachelor and he probably won’t be paid that much. But i imagine Damien would be pretty determined to set the next generation on the right path.

Emma- Twitch Streamer

This is where the headcannons come in. Since Emma is involved in the Chemma plot in s1 and booted so early in s2. I feel like we don’t get a good look into what her interests/ hobbies are besides being an influencer? So I don’t think she would go to college either. As she said in her elimination episode, she already makes millions off of Tiktok. Why would she need to go to school?

She’d probably be like one of those gamer girl twitch streamers.

Julia- Communications Major

Ironically I think she’d have a similar degree to Bowie. There’s a lot of social media jobs you can get with this one so I think it fits her. On top of being an influencer, I could see her being a social media strategist for a company.

Millie- Psychology Major with a minor in Journalism, PHD

The major or minor could be switched tbh. But Millie liked to psychoanalyze people and write stuff down in s1 so this is an easy fit. I could see Priya and Millie sharing a dorm and being college besties. Though I do think Millie would want to branch out and make other friends.

Millie would definitely try to go for a PHD and become a forensic psychologist. Given her lack of reaction to Damien almost dying in reboot s2 episode 2, I think she would do well in forensics.

MK- Prison

This might upset some people but thanks to TD, everyone knows that MK is a criminal now. A past crime might come back to haunt her or she might have trouble stealing anything in the present. One way or another she’s going to the slammer. I think she could probably convince Julia to bail her out.

From there, she'd just be an unemployed slacker crashing on Julia's couch. She'd be the Todd to Julia's Bojack. (hoping someone gets that reference.)

Nichelle Ladonna- Hollywood

Considering how happy she seems at the end of s2. I think she probably managed to squeeze her way back into Hollywood. Even though she got humiliated by Julia, she still proved she can do her own stunts now. That’s somewhat useful. Nichelle would just thrive off of her fame and fortune, occasionally rubbing it in Julia’s face.

Priya- Bachelor of Science in Nursing

This one was easy since Priya literally explained what she wanted to do in the show. I like to think she eventually realizes how toxic her parents were and cuts off contact with them.

Ripper-  Bachelor’s Degree in Culinary Arts/ Trade School

I’m 50/50 on this one. Because I originally just imagined that Ripper would just go to trade school, thinking college is for NERDS and become either an electrician or a plumber. But I read this fic called 16 ppl in a beach house on AO3 that depicted Ripper as a good cook. And I don’t know why but I think it oddly fits his character? I could also see him getting a degree in culinary arts and working as a line cook in a restaurant. So again 50/50, which ever ending you prefer.

Scary Girl- Circus

This is solely just based off the fact that she was near a circus in her audition tape. Plus she kinda looks like a clown so it fits.

Wayne and Raj- Professional Hockey Players/ Business Degree

Play for the AHL while in college and are eventually drafted by the NHL (had to do research for this one because I do not know jack shit about hockey) Both guys go for a business degree so when they eventually retire from hockey, they can become beekeepers and sell honey. As stated in reboot s1 episode 2.

Zee- Film Major

He seems to like coming up with stories about how he lost his leg. And he seemed to have a bit of knowledge with movies given his dialogue with Julia in Reboot s1 ep 8. Also from personal experience, a lot of film majors are fucking weird so I think this fits.

[damnmmmmmmmmmm]

My hot take and unpopular opinion is that Sebastian thought taking TA would open certain doors for him but he’s still stuck doing Indie films. I agree with the industry anon. He’s got the talent but I don’t think anyone that high up is calling him. To the industry anon, do you think he even auditions for those parts and if so, why is he getting passed up for those roles? He seems desperate to work with big directors. Do you think that translates in his auditions? Karyn Kusama once said he wasn’t a leading man and he wasn’t a character actor but stuck somewhere in the middle. It was a zoom interview a few years ago. What’s your opinion on this as well? Thanks in advance. /

Hi! I’m the industry anon.

So first off, I don’t think you’re entirely wrong about TA, but my personal opinion is that his main (and possibly sole) purpose for taking it was that it was Oscar bait in its purest form. So yes, he thought it would open many more doors for him, and I actually think it did in a lot of ways. Where I disagree is on him being “stuck” doing indie films. Indie films are actually held to an almost snobbishly high standard in the industry. They often land several awards nominations and showcase serious acting chops. We forget that Florence Pugh is technically an Indie Darling™️. People who want to be “taken seriously” go for indie films more than blockbusters. Seb falls into that category and in some ways, I think it’s hindered him. He’s so committed to being this *artist* that he’s just started torturing himself for fun and expecting to be rewarded for it. He’s not alone in that, a lot of people do it. I personally just think it’s a foolish and unnecessarily painful way to navigate the industry.

As far as auditions, I’m not sure if he does or doesn’t anymore. I wouldn’t be shocked if he doesn’t, based off of the fact that he is now a Golden Globe winner and an Academy Award nominee. But if he does, I honestly couldn’t tell you how I think his auditions go. His self tapes that have been leaked over the years are fantastic. But things can sometimes change when you’re in the room auditioning. I will say, you don’t make it as far as he has without something going right in your auditions, so do with that what you will.

I think his win and nominations have given him a lot more agency in the projects he has access to/can choose to do. What’s annoying is that he’s using that agency to do exactly what he did before: chase awards bait. I really wish he’d do things that are actually different for him. The award chasing is only going to make him look desperate in the eyes of those who are higher up, and he’s better than that. The real power move would be for him to cut some of the awards bait with films that aren’t that. And no, I don’t mean Marvel. That’s just a given with him at this point. I mean some comedy. Maybe action. Films that are truly good, but aren’t pretentious enough to land nominations. Films that are for audiences, not for egos. He doesn’t have to give up on pursuing his Oscar. He’s shouldn’t give up on it. He just needs to stop wanting it so badly and trust the process.

Also: I disagree with Karyn and think he is very much leading man material. He’s proved that he’s a leading man with Fresh and Sharoer, IMO. Those were unconventional leading men, but leading men nevertheless. Him as Max during Sandra’s chapter of Sharper? So. Fucking. Great. Put him opposite a TRUE leading lady (not someone who thinks she is but actually just plays dress up instead of, I don’t know, doing her job 👀) both on and offscreen and he will FLOURISH. I actually think Ruins might be exactly what he needs. I don’t know much about it, but if he’s playing a wealthy leading man type, I say it’s about damn time!