#except that now. i am on break. so i could feasibly write some scripts and go to hell

[camellia-thea]

away with family hence the general absence but i did somehow reread all of the hunger games because we showed my sister the film on monday. i have some feelings about it

[filmaltadefinizioneweb-blog]

World Class Free Film School - Lesson 1 - Sign Zee Papers!

Welcome to World Class Free Film School!

In the following series of articles of we will impart the hard-won knowledge that we have gained as successful independent digital filmmakers. And (drumroll puh-leaze!) we will do this for FREE!

Now, why would we do such a thing for free? Well, because we're sweethearts. Because we love you and want you to succeed in this sometimes tricky and crazy thing called The Film Industry.

Now, there are many fine filmmaking schools in this big old world. Places where an aspiring director or producer can attend to learn many of the skills necessary to make a film.

There are also many excellent books out there that you can read that will give you all of the essentials to make a film. Unfortunately, for the poor huddled masses, these film schools and books will cost an initial investment of time and money. This amount you end up spending may be in the thousands of dollars. Now, there is nothing wrong with you spending money to educate you. Perhaps some film schools may actually help improve your chances of getting a job in the industry too, however...

Almost without exception, the graduates of these film schools will go on to find out that making their first few films as Directors will end up costing them several thousands of dollars more. They'll learn the hard way that precious few filmmakers ever see any kind of return on the money they've put up for funding their first few films.

That has been the reality of the situation for the independent filmmaker, up until now. There have been way too many stories told of those starry-eyed wannabe directors who begged, borrowed, or stole to produce their first few flops. At the end those sad stories, the tragedy is they never actually finished their first film. Maybe they never got started. Maybe they ran out of patience or time. Or maybe they ran over-budget, found themselves financially in the hole, bereft of family and friends for favors they could not repay. End result? Oh, I don't know, maybe you end up a bitter ex-filmmaker, working a crappy day job, nursing a sore ego while feeling like a huge failure after spending so much dang money on film school.

Are you ready for a paradigm shift? This is where World Class Free Film School is different! Here, you can learn all of the technical information for producing an independent film while NOT breaking the bank! In this free on-line film school, you will learn the basic principles of pre-production, production, and post. You will walk the path of a successful independent filmmaker and discover a self sustaining business model that I've followed from day one in the business.

You'll gain the perspective of the lessons that I've won and follow me step by step as I explain to you how I wrote, directed, and produced my first money-making film and went on using that as seed money to grow an income generating film library. You'll learn the tips and tricks of creating film revenue streams while satisfying that creative spirit which brought you to this page in the first place. These revenue streams will allow you build your filmmaking equipment arsenal, fund, produce and self-distribute more of the same revenue streams, and, yes, allow you the financial freedom to produce the occasional non-commercial short film, without giving a fig about where the funding will come from!

Interested? Good! Check back frequently! This is a work in progress, and it will evolve as we go happily skipping down the danger-strewn yellow brick road together in this crazy thing called show-biz. I'm looking forward to sharing and giving back some of the knowledge and experiences that have allowed me to proclaim myself a successful filmmaker. Yes indeed, sometimes I puff out my chest and shout my barbaric yawp; "I am a successful FILMMAKER, dammit!" I admit that I do get some funny looks sometimes too.

That being said, I honestly believe that at the end of this course, if you follow the tasty advice that I dish out for you, I have no doubt that you'll be able to shout the same barbaric yawp!

So, c'mon, jump in head first and follow me! You've got nothing to lose, and everything to gain. It's fun, it's entertaining, and you might learn something.

Best part is; it's all FREE!

Lesson 1 - Sign Zee Papers!

Ok, so you've decided that you want to make a film and you're not going let anything stop you. It's time to make like Nike, and just do it. You've got your crew all picked out and they said they would work for free (or almost free and a credit). They're all totally happy with the fact that you're making promises about what they can expect on the back-end profits. Everyone is confident that this film is a sure-fire win at Sundance, it's going to get picked up by a major distributor and everyone is going to get rich, right?

WAIT A MINUTE!!!!!

One of the biggest downers in this crazy business (and don't kid yourself, it is a business), is that it can make ordinarily nice people turn into totally greedy, insufferably egotistical, and absolutely insane monsters. This is no joke.

I don't know what it is, but one day you're buddy-buddy with someone who came on to your project two months ago to help collaborate, everything is fine and dandy, you're cruising toward that Sundance Award, then the next day, BLAMMO! It's like Invasion of the Body Snatchers. This previously "normal guy" has been replaced with an alien who grew out a pod last night while he was sleeping. Maybe you hired him to shoot some of your footage and he still has the tapes. He was supposed to start editing them, but now he says he wants a gazillion dollar advance, he wants 50% royalty on all sales, he wants complete creative control, and... Wait for it...he wants DIRECTOR credit on the film that was initially your idea two years ago.

OK, this is one of the most important tips that I am going to give you. Before you do anything else; get it in writing! Step one; when you finish the script, get it copyrighted. You can do this easily by logging on to copyright.gov, paying $35 bucks, and following their directions. Step two: when you bring someone on to your film to collaborate, use a contract! Spell everything out completely and make sure you don't give up certain things, like ownership. Make the terms as favorable for yourself as possible. Remember, it's your concept, your project, your business! As a business person, think of collaborators as employees. Employees whom you appreciate, take care of, and share with, but still; employees. To drive a film to completion, someone has to be the boss. If they want to be the boss, guess what? They can make their own frickin' movie! Even if they are working for free (or almost free), you need to be able to fire them if, say, they turn into pod-people. Don't be afraid to terminate someone if you need to.

Make the contracts as iron-clad as possible. Spell out what you are offering them and what rights you will retain. Personally, I would prefer to pay someone up front on a daily rate, rather than to have them work for free (or for some pie-in-the-sky by and by). It's much cleaner. Pie eating contests can get messy. Pay the cameraman a reasonable fee and have him give you the tapes immediately after each shoot, if you're doing the editing yourself. Or, if that's not feasible, go with him to his studio, wait while he captures the footage to hard-drive, then take the raw footage with you while he does the editing. When it comes down to it, he who has the raw footage in his possession, owns it. Doesn't matter if you paid him or not. He shot it and it belongs to him his until he hands it over. All this is a very good reason to learn how to do everything yourself, if you can.

It's hard to shoot, edit, and act in your own film all at the same time. You will probably need some kind of actors in your movie. This can be expensive unless you're shooting a documentary. That's why I like making docs. The talent tends to be free. Even then, you should still take care of the people who volunteer to be in your film. Feeding them is nice. Credits are a must. A complimentary copy of the film on DVD should be de rigueur. I like to give the folks in my documentaries the opportunity to buy extra DVDs from me, at production cost (50%) and let them hand-sell them for profit at the set retail price. It's actually a good self-marketing technique. You end up with a huge marketing team this way. They make 50% profit and you make 50%. But regardless of whether you decide to share the wealth, or not, be considerate!

One thing about getting people to work for free, please respect their time! If you say that a shoot will start at a certain time, be there. Nothing makes an unpaid volunteer more upset than taking time out of a valuable day and be left cooling their heels for a tardy director. If you're producing a narrative, you will need actors. Key words: be professional.

Try to keep it clean and simple. If you're able to, use SagIndie for talent. I know that it's not always feasible, but if you can, do it. It's only a hundred bucks a day and you will get quality performances. You can learn a lot working with professionals too. Maybe you won't need to do so many takes. And usually you will get better results than if you use your Aunt Mimi as the leading lady.

Either way, make sure you get talent and location owner's to sign a release form. Make sure that you make the release as broad as possible so that you don't get caught in a "aha, gotcha!" somewhere film alta definizione  down that yellow brick road. No bigger buzz-kill than squabbling over something that is supposed to be fun. Remember, that is our definition of "success"? Having FUN? Well, follow the advice in this lesson and have everyone sign zee papers. Then have fun!

[cb01site-blog]

World Class Free Film School - Lesson 1 - Sign Zee Papers!

Welcome to World Class Free Film School!

In the following series of articles of we will impart the hard-won knowledge that we have gained as successful independent digital filmmakers. And (drumroll puh-leaze!) we will do this for FREE!

Now, why would we do such a thing for free? Well, because we're sweethearts. Because we love you and want you to succeed in this sometimes tricky and crazy thing called The Film Industry.

Now, there are many fine filmmaking schools in this big old world. Places where an aspiring director or producer can attend to learn many of the skills necessary to make a film.

There are also many excellent books out there that you can read that will give you all of the essentials to make a film. Unfortunately, for the poor huddled masses, these film schools and books will cost an initial investment of time and money. This amount you end up spending may be in the thousands of dollars. Now, there is nothing wrong with you spending money to educate you. Perhaps some film schools may actually help improve your chances of getting a job in the industry too, however...

Almost without exception, the graduates of these film schools will go on to find out that making their first few films as Directors will end up costing them several thousands of dollars more. They'll learn the hard way that precious few filmmakers ever see any kind of return on the money they've put up for funding their first few films.

That has been the reality of the situation for the independent filmmaker, up until now. There have been way too many stories told of those starry-eyed wannabe directors who begged, borrowed, or stole to produce their first few flops. At the end those sad stories, the tragedy is they never actually finished their first film. Maybe they never got started. Maybe they ran out of patience or time. Or maybe they ran over-budget, found themselves financially in the hole, bereft of family and friends for favors they could not repay. End result? Oh, I don't know, maybe you end up a bitter ex-filmmaker, working a crappy day job, nursing a sore ego while feeling like a huge failure after spending so much dang money on film school.

Are you ready for a paradigm shift? This is where World Class Free Film School is different! Here, you can learn all of the technical information for producing an independent film while NOT breaking the bank! In this free on-line film school, you will learn the basic principles of pre-production, production, and post. You will walk the path of a successful independent filmmaker and discover a self sustaining business model that I've followed from day one in the business.

You'll gain the perspective of the lessons that I've won and follow me step by step as I explain to you how I wrote, directed, and produced my first money-making film and went on using that as seed money to grow an income generating film library. You'll learn the tips and tricks of creating film revenue streams while satisfying that creative spirit which brought you to this page in the first place. These revenue streams will allow you build your filmmaking equipment arsenal, fund, produce and self-distribute more of the same revenue streams, and, yes, allow you the financial freedom to produce the occasional non-commercial short film, without giving a fig about where the funding will come from!

Interested? Good! Check back frequently! This is a work in progress, and it will evolve as we go happily skipping down the danger-strewn yellow brick road together in this crazy thing called show-biz. I'm looking forward to sharing and giving back some of the knowledge and experiences that have allowed me to proclaim myself a successful filmmaker. Yes indeed, sometimes I puff out my chest and shout my barbaric yawp; "I am a successful FILMMAKER, dammit!" I admit that I do get some funny looks sometimes too.

That being said, I honestly believe that at the end of this course, if you follow the tasty advice that I dish out for you, I have no doubt that you'll be able to shout the same barbaric yawp!

So, c'mon, jump in head first and follow me! You've got nothing to lose, and everything to gain. It's fun, it's entertaining, and you might learn something.

Best part is; it's all FREE!

Lesson 1 - Sign Zee Papers!

Ok, so you've decided that you want to make a film and you're not going let anything stop you. It's time to make like Nike, and just do it. You've got your crew all picked out and they said they would work for free (or almost free and a credit). They're all totally happy with the fact that you're making promises about what they can expect on the back-end profits. Everyone is confident that this film is a sure-fire win at Sundance, it's going to get picked up by a major distributor and everyone is going to get rich, right?

WAIT A MINUTE!!!!!

One of the biggest downers in this crazy business (and don't kid yourself, it is a business), is that it can make ordinarily nice people turn into totally greedy, insufferably egotistical, and absolutely insane monsters. This is no joke.

I don't know what it is, but one day you're buddy-buddy with someone who came on to your project two months ago to help collaborate, everything is fine and dandy, you're cruising toward that Sundance Award, then the next day, BLAMMO! It's like Invasion of the Body Snatchers. This previously "normal guy" has been replaced with an alien who grew out a pod last night while he was sleeping. Maybe you hired him to shoot some of your footage and he still has the tapes. He was supposed to start editing them, but now he says he wants a gazillion dollar advance, he wants 50% royalty on all sales, he wants complete creative control, and... Wait for it...he wants DIRECTOR credit on the film that was initially your idea two years ago.

OK, this is one of the most important tips that I am going to give you. Before you do anything else; get it in writing! Step one; when you finish the script, get it copyrighted. You can do this easily by logging on to copyright.gov, paying $35 bucks, and following their directions. Step two: when you bring someone on to your film to collaborate, use a contract! Spell everything out completely and make sure you don't give up certain things, like ownership. Make the terms as favorable for yourself as possible. Remember, it's your concept, your project, your business! As a business person, think of collaborators as employees. Employees whom you appreciate, take care of, and share with, but still; employees. To drive a film to completion, someone has to be the boss. If they want to be the boss, guess what? They can make their own frickin' movie! Even if they are working for free (or almost free), you need to be able to fire them if, say, they turn into pod-people. Don't be afraid to terminate someone if you need to.

Make the contracts as iron-clad as possible. Spell out what you are offering them and what rights you will retain. Personally, I would prefer to pay someone up front on a daily rate, rather than to have them work for free (or for some pie-in-the-sky by and by). It's much cleaner. Pie eating contests can get messy. Pay the cameraman a reasonable fee and have him give you the tapes immediately after each shoot, if you're doing the editing yourself. Or, if that's not feasible, go with him to his studio, wait while he captures the footage to hard-drive, then take the raw footage with you while he does the editing. When it comes down to it, he who has the raw footage in his possession, owns it. Doesn't matter if you paid him or not. He shot it and it belongs to him his until he hands it over. All this is a very good reason to learn how to do everything yourself, if you can.

It's hard to shoot, edit, and act in your own film all at the same time. You will probably need some kind of actors in your movie. This can be expensive unless you're shooting a documentary. That's why I like making docs. The talent tends to be free. Even then, you should still take care of the people who volunteer to be in your film. Feeding them is nice. Credits are a must. A complimentary copy of the film on DVD should be de rigueur. I like to give the folks in my documentaries the opportunity to buy extra DVDs from me, at production cost (50%) and let them hand-sell them for profit at the set retail price. It's actually a good self-marketing technique. You end up with a huge marketing team this way. They make 50% profit and you make 50%. But regardless of whether you decide to share the wealth, or not, be considerate!

One thing about getting people to work for free, please respect their time! If you say that a shoot will start at a certain time, be there. Nothing makes an unpaid volunteer more upset than taking time out of a valuable day and be left cooling their heels for a tardy director. If you're producing a narrative, you will need actors. Key words: be professional.

Try to keep it clean and simple. If you're able to, use SagIndie for talent. I know that it's not always feasible, but if you can, do it. It's only a hundred bucks a day and you will get quality performances. You can learn a lot working with professionals too. Maybe you won't need to do so many takes. And usually you will get better results than if you use your Aunt Mimi as the leading lady.

Either way, make sure you get talent and location owner's to sign a release form. Make sure that you make the release as broad as possible so that you don't get caught in a "aha, gotcha!" somewhere down that yellow brick road. No bigger buzz-kill than squabbling over something cb 01  that is supposed to be fun. Remember, that is our definition of "success"? Having FUN? Well, follow the advice in this lesson and have everyone sign zee papers. Then have fun!

[mostleemorethansmut]

That was twenty-eight years ago

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-x7GcwT-Tk

[A/N: Well, if you want a spoiler for this story's plot, go ahead and listen to the song. If you don't want spoilers, still listen to the song, just don't note the lyrics. Anyway, this one came to me when I was watching the Fran Bow stream where he describes going to a dance at a catholic school. The framing device of where they met came initially from a ShAmy fanfic I was meaning to write, but then... GTLive happened. I don't think there's much more to add. Also, Matthew describes his first kiss on one of the Higher or Lower streams, but I'm going to say he's lying]

Matt was fed up with his life. Not in a bad way. He wasn't so fed up that he wanted to go jump off the roof of a dorm building[extremely unsubtle Life is Strange reference], but he was fed up. No, fed up wasn't the right word. Bored. Yes, he was bored. He was bored with his life.

Sure, he'd just finished the eighth season of Game Lab, and on his 40th birthday he'd happily handed down the Game Lab torch to his protege, Quinn.(Actually, they'd be splitting the next season to help the viewers get used to her) The team had just added the tenth show to the main channel and officially were releasing daily. Film Theory moved to posting every other day, and, though they hadn't announced it yet, Matt and Steph were hoping to have a kid soon.

He was bored because every day was the same. It'd gone from running around constantly trying to catch up with life, but soon it'd gotten routine. A literal routine. Get up, have food, research til lunch, get exercise, record script, livestream, more research with dinner, translate evidence into script, go to bed. Sometimes they stayed up late together because they wanted to work ahead for traveling, but he never had to record while away anymore. He almost missed recording in a foreign closet now. He even missed recording in a closet, ever since they started paying for a professional recording studio. Their getaways felt routine now, too.

He wanted to break from the norm.

*

Matt jumped up and down in the backseat. It was so exciting. "Mom, are we there yet?" he asked.

Mrs. Patrick laughed from the front. "We won't be there for several more hours," she called back. "But we are almost to New York."

"Don't you have a game-boy back there?" his father asked. "Two of them in fact?"

Matt sighed and fell back into the seat. It was true, he had the games back with him, but could you blame him for being excited? It was his first time out of Ohio. He had never gotten to the national science fair before. He sighed and reached back to his Pokemon red. After a few failed attempts at finding Missingno, he set it down. There wasn't anything left to do. Wait, he hadn't beaten the game using only the first Pokemon he'd captured. He'd try doing that.

*

The word "ahead" didn't even begin to describe the two theorists. In fact, they were so far beyond their work load, Matt almost wished for the days when they'd pull all-nighters trying to write a new episode.

Matt sighed. He pulled up the N-Switch and decided to go for a retro night with another run-through the remastered Subnautica. Stephanie took the seat across the room from him and pulled open the newspaper. Matt stared at her for a few seconds, remembering the days when she'd cuddle up on his lap, no matter what he was doing. Then he focused on the game again.

Matt was zooming through the game, and was almost ready to build a base when Stephanie interrupted his thought process. "Hey honey," she called. "Listen to this:

"I'm a middle aged man who is waiting for life to stop running by him. Yet all attempts of kindling a new lustful flame have failed. And I want another chance at the past. So, probably hopelessly, I put out this ad. I call upon a woman; a girl when I met her. I met her at a national science fair in New York. We were young, but it was there that we kissed. It's unlikely that she lives in Los Angeles, but I'm willing to try to put out a call.

Sincerely,

Pokemon."

"Do they still have letters like that?" asked Matt, absentmindedly. He knew the answer very well. He was the one who put the letter in there.

"Apparently," responded Stephanie.

*

"Time to get up," called Mrs. Cordoto. "We've got a big day ahead of us."

Stephanie refused, wrapping herself up in the blankets. "I don't wanna," she responded.

"You don't?" her mother called. "You've been looking forward to this science fair for the past months. You wouldn't stop bothering us. You're seriously telling me you don't wanna go."

"I wanna sleep," Steph playfully whined. "I'm still tired from last night."

"Now what did we tell you about going to bed late. If you're going to got to bed late, you're gonna have to live with the consequences."

Stephanie understood her mother. She was already getting up and trying to stay awake while warming up the shower. They'd traveled to her cousin's house last night and the whole of the day was spent partying. She was still pretty pumped for today's performance. She wanted to show everyone her science project.

*

Matt frowned as his wife walked back into the house. "Where did you go?" he asked, giving up on the pages he was looking through.

"I went to mail a letter," she responded.

"What for?" he asked.

"Oh, you know," she dodged, "stuff."

"Steph, what's up."

Stephanie avoided eye contact by looking to the ceiling. "I was just... contacting a friend." MatPat gave a dubious look, but she continued. "I've been wanting to make a decision now for a while, but before I did, I wanted an old friend's advice."

"And you couldn't call her."

"Some things just have to be written down," she replied, directing her gaze to the computer, trying to absorb herself in that day's work.

"Okay then," Matt agreed, dropping the conversation.

*

Matthew crawled through the sea of early students. It seemed that everyone except him knew to show up early. They'd arrived when the letter had told them to, but the room seemed to be filled with overachievers. Matthew finally saw two open spots. He decided to choose the spot at the end of the table.

Matt set out his experiment. He'd chosen something video-game-themed. It was, "How much damage would Pikachu's thunderbolt do?" 'TotPat' helped compare size and facts that he could collect from the video game. From what he found with the size of pokemon and how much damage was dealt, relatively.

This was all decent, but, after finding a power strip, he pulled out his final product. There were two buttons that he'd rigged up to show Pikichu's weaker and stronger attacks. The second one was able to kill a person, so he just rigged a pretty shocking button and told everyone to imagine it 20 times worse.

Matthew had just set out a sign to check with your medical details before touching the buttons; when a girl set down her project next to him.

*

It was Matt's turn to read the newspaper tonight. Stephanie had claimed the television a while back to play Silent Hill 2.

Matthew scanned the paper. "Say Steph, do you know where that article from last night is?"

She raised an eye at him. "I didn't know you were so into the personal column all of a sudden. It's on page 8C, if memory serves correctly."

He flipped through the paper. "Hey, it seems someone answered."

"Oh?" asked Stephanie, clearly uninterested. "what did they say."

"Dear Pokemon,

I'm surprised to hear from you. I almost didn't even remember when I first heard the story. Now I remember. I am a now middle aged woman who would love to try to re-kindle her lustful flame again. How about we meet. Kennedy, two days from now. Same place we hid all those years ago.

See you then,

Doom."

*

Stephanie set out her cardboard display. It was a pretty cool project she had in mind. She had done a research project into the natural resources on Mars and weather or not it would be feasible to have a base there.

She had gotten the idea from the video game Doom and had used a lot of comparisons to the game world and how accurate it was. She went through and showed how the levels were mapped, how big they would be in real life, and what technology it would take to get there.

She looked over at the boy next to her. He was slightly taller than her with glasses and a strange hair-do. He was pretty cute. "Hey," she called, "my name's Stephanie." Steph held out her hand nervously. "What's yours?"

The kid took her hand. "Matthew," he introduced, "What's your project about?"

"Well, um," Steph stuttered. She was always embarrassed to tell people that her project was based on a video game. "It's about building a base on Mars." She gestured at the tri-fold.

Matt examined the board. "Oh my gosh, this is all about Doom. That's cool. I haven't gotten to play it because I only own a console. Have you played it?"

Stephanie was surprised at the kid's response. "Um, yeah. Lots of fun. I really enjoyed it." She looked at the boy's presentation. "Say, you like Pokemon?"

"Yeah," he responded, turning his attention back to her. "Do you?"

"Don't have have a Game Boy."

"I have an extra one. You wanna play some?"

*

Matthew put on his jacket. It was a bit chilly outside today. Stephanie had to run to the store, so now was the perfect time. He got in the car and drove to Kennedy Elementary School. The building was buzzing with activity. It was a science fair, after all.

Matt took a deep breath. Was he seriously going through with this? Cheating on his wife for a girl he barely remembered? Deciding that there was no time like the present, he got out of the car and headed inside.

He wandered through the dozens of science fair projects. After roaming through the sea of children and mediocre projects, he finally found the back door. He stepped out and glanced back and forth. Then he saw someone there. The woman had shown up.

*

Matt and Stephanie were sitting right next to each other. They'd snuck out of the science fair and escaped out a door in the back. "I don't get it," little Stephanie swore. "Why are all of my grass types unable to even harm your one fire?"

"Stephanie, that's the whole point of Pokemon. An extreme game of rock, paper, scissors." Matt grinned and patted the top of her head. "Video games can be hard sometimes."

Steph glared at him and sent out a water type. Matt gulped and tried to escape. Stephanie grinned as the tide suddenly shifted in her favor. She still lost, but it became fun by the end.

They were laughing and discussing their last match when someone said something over the loud speaker. "Sounds like they're about to announce the winners," Matthew said. He stood up and they shook up.

"This was a lot of fun," Stephanie thanked, "thanks Matt." The little girl leaned in and gave the little boy a kiss on the lips. Then she skipped off inside.

Matthew stood there, stunned at what had just happened.

*

The couple's reunion was a bit awkward at first. Stephanie stared at Matt and vice versa. "I remember now," she figured. "I can't believe I never figured it out."

"Me neither," laughed Matt. They both burst into a giggling fit. "C'mere," directed Matt, pulling her into hug. They happily snuggled together.

Stephanie chuckled as they separated. "I guess everything worked out in the end."

"Almost," Matt joked, "we have yet to re-kindle that lustful flame."

"Well that's pretty easy to do," she smiled.

Matt nodded, then his expression changed to panic. "Wait, you don't mean here?"

[anoldwound]

Wicked Game, Chapter Two - Nathan/OC [Heroes]

Title: Wicked Game - 2/3 Characters/Pairings: Nathan/OC Rating: R Warnings: Slash, sexual situations, cursing, alcohol consumption Word Count: 4,555 Spoiler alert: "Six Months Ago". Summary: James had been captivated by Nathan’s ease of manner, and his charming, toothy smile, and the sparkle in his sharp eyes. Takes place a month before "Genesis". A/N: Here's Part Two! Hope you enjoy. ^_^ Part One “Yes! Yes! Ha ha! WOO-HOO!” Nathan Petrelli screamed at the top of his lungs as he came leaping into James’s office the following day. “Fifteen points! Fifteen fucking points! WOO!” “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, simmer down!” said James, putting down a script he was reading. “What fifteen points?” “I’m fifteen points ahead in the polls!” Nathan exclaimed, waving around the Times and doing some sort of strange jig. “Fifteen points! That means I went up twenty-five points in one day! Do you know how much twenty-five points is in these polls? Astronomical, practically! This is amazing! Holy CRAP!” “I’ve never seen you so excited before!” James laughed, quickly taking part in Nathan’s happiness, although in a much more subdued manner than Nathan, who was practically bouncing around the room. “I don’t think even I have!” Nathan started laughing hysterically, and threw the newspaper onto James’s desk. “Go on! Read it if you don’t believe me!” “Oh, no, I believe you,” James chuckled. “Your little Irish jig there is enough evidence for me. Aren’t you Italian?” “Who cares?” Nathan stopped doing the jig, however, and instead simply stood there in the middle of the room, grinning at James like a lunatic. “You’re kinda freaking me out, Nathan,” said James, laughing nervously. It was bad enough that Nathan was incredibly hyper and way too excited; it was extremely disconcerting to see him ecstatically happy  about something, especially since James had never actually seen Nathan ecstatically happy about something. Ever. “Heh. Sorry.” Nathan rubbed his neck and gave James a shame-faced smile. “This is just really good news, you know? The first good news in a while.” “Yeah,” James said quietly. When Heidi had been paralyzed in that awful accident in April, it had hit everyone hard—Nathan especially. It had literally torn James’s heart in two listening to Nathan blame himself over and over again, his head in his hands and tears in his eyes, while James kept trying to reassure him that he could not have possibly prevented it, and that he was incredibly lucky that he hadn’t gotten hurt himself. It was the same thing everyone else was telling him, James knew, but he hadn’t known what else to say. But all that was in the past now, as Nathan kept insisting. Heidi was an amazingly strong woman, and making the most of her situation, while Nathan continued to work hard at his campaign, kicking ass and taking names. This newest victory seemed to have brought a new hope into his life—a hope that he might feasibly win the election now. James certainly hoped so, although a lot could happen in the two months left before Election Day. “So,” Nathan said, breaking the prolonged silence. “I’m having a celebration dinner tomorrow night to...well, celebrate. And you, of course, will be the guest of honor.” “Pardon?” James said, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Why would I be the guest of honor?” Nathan frowned. “Didn’t you watch my speech?” “Well...well, I saw it,” James said lamely. “I was in a....in a bar. Couldn’t really hear you over the sound of gay men screaming when you came on.” “What!” Nathan laughed. “Gay men screaming?” James shrugged and smiled. “The gay community likes you. Well, the male gay community, anyway.” “Great. I guess I can count on their votes, then!” Nathan chuckled. “Any particular reason why they support me enough to start shrieking when I come on TV?” “Oh, come on!” James said, his ears growing hot. “Do I have to say it?” “Yes.” Nathan smirked, and James knew that he already knew the answer—Nathan just wanted to torture him. “Because you are a very attractive man, that’s why,” James said, picking up his script and pretending to peruse it so he wouldn’t have to look at Nathan’s smug face. “In other people’s opinions, mind you. You’re a bit too stuffy for me.” “Ha! That’s interesting,” said Nathan, giving another hearty laugh. “So, the party. It’s going to be at the Battery Park Ritz at 7.  The Manhattan Ballroom. Be there, or be...well, I was going to say square, but you’re pretty square already, so just be there, all right?” “Oh, ha ha,” said James, rolling his eyes. “You’re so hilarious, dear. Droll, just perfectly droll.” “Yes, I am,” Nathan said. “See ya there, Jim.” “Bye.” James cautiously looked up from his script to watch Nathan leave. “My God, that man has a fine ass,” James muttered to himself, and went back to reading. *** James’s limo pulled up in front of the Ritz the next night. He glanced down at his diamond-encrusted watch and smirked. Seven o’clock on the dot. He climbed out of the limo and waved his driver goodbye as the vehicle went streaking down the street. James straightened his tie and strode purposefully into the hotel where, apparently, his party was being held. He could only assume that Nathan had taken James’s advice wholly to heart from the way that he had made him the guest of honor at a party celebrating a huge victory in the polls. This gave him a soothing, wonderful feeling in the pit of his chest, although at the same time made him rather uneasy. He couldn’t say why. The party was in full swing already by the time he stepped off the elevator and made his way into the ballroom. Music was pounding out of the stereos placed in the high corners of the room, and the banquet tables had been shoved to the side to make space for a dance floor, which everyone was making liberal use of. It was a decidedly un-Nathan-like party. Usually there was sparkling champagne and Mozart floating gently and quietly throughout the room, and people talking and laughing politely in little groups. Now, however, there were martinis placed across the bar for people to slurp down as they pleased, rock music blaring loudly, and everyone shouting at each other to be heard over the din. The whole thing had James completely bemused. He decided not to dwell on it too much, however, and searched the crowd for a familiar face...the familiar face. And there it was, beaming and loosening its tie as it climbed up onto the stage. “Hey! Cut off the music!” Nathan yelled, waving his arms, and the music abruptly shut off. “Great. Everyone! Listen up!” He clapped his hands loudly for attention, and everyone in the room turned to face him. “As you all know, I’m currently fifteen points ahead in the polls—” Wild applause greeted this statement; Nathan smiled and patiently waited for the noise to die down. “Yes, yes, we’re all very happy about this, of course.” Nathan began pacing the stage, and grabbed the mic off from the mic stand. “Why wouldn’t we be? It’s an amazing, impossible thing, to be this far ahead in the polls when just the day before I was falling behind miserably. But we gotta ask ourselves something—how did this happen? How did this...I dunno, miracle manifest itself overnight? I don’t mean to sound overly dramatic about it or anything, but you have to admit, no one saw this coming! Did anyone see this coming? No. No one did. Except for one man.” He raised his index finger. “A visionary. A man who, despite having no background in politics, managed to come up with a plan that—well, seems pretty obvious now, but at the time sounded genius. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you—JAMES YATES!” Nathan stopped pacing and, with a grand gesture, pointed to James, who was standing in the back of the room, his hands in his pockets. A spotlight suddenly fell on him, and he felt his face turn red as the crowd turned all at once to face him and give him a rousing ovation. James laughed uncomfortably, but put his hand to his cheek, and waved his other hand in the air as though to swat the cheering away. The clapping eventually died out, leaving James grinning with fake embarrassment, the spotlight still on him. His grin felt more like a grimace. What was Nathan doing? “How does it feel to be the guest of honor, Jim?” Nathan called to him from the stage. “Completely mortifying!” James answered, and everyone laughed. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what he says,” Nathan smirked. “We all know you love the attention, Yates!” James shook his head, with his plastic smile still fixed on his face. “Got it all wrong, doll.” Why the hell do you do this to me, Nathan... Nathan shook his head with a grin on his face as well, although you could tell that his was genuine. He set the mic back on its stand and spoke into it: “Have a good time, everyone.” The music came back on, the spotlight faded away, and everyone commenced their dancing and loud conversations. James made his way over to the stage, which Nathan was jumping gazelle-like off of. Grinning that charming grin of his, Nathan jogged over to James and gave him a quick hug, with your standard straight-guy pat on the shoulder before releasement. “Why are you doing this?” James asked as Nathan whipped off his tie and tossed it to his campaign manager, who caught it with one hand and placed it carefully on a banquet table. “Doing what?” Nathan asked, and walked the short distance over to the bar, James on his heels. “Throwing this party for me,” James hissed, and leaned against the bar rail as Nathan ordered a scotch on the rocks. “It’s way too much. I just gave you a simple suggestion, one your people would’ve told you to do soon anyway. I didn’t write the speech you gave, I didn’t do anything extraordinary, and I’m not a genius. Why are you throwing this party for me?” Nathan sighed and plopped down on one of the stools as the bartender prepared his drink. “I gotta tell ya, Jim, you’re one of the most ungrateful son-of-a-bitches I’ve ever met.” James made a loud noise of disgust and slammed his hand on the counter-top with such force that several martini glasses spilled over. “I’m so goddamn sick of this, Nathan! I’m sick of you, I’m sick of—” “Jesus Christ, Yates!” Nathan interjected, his face molded into a picturesque expression of shock and confusion. The bartender placed the glass of scotch in front of him, but he didn’t seem to notice. “What the hell is wrong with you?! I thought you’d be happy. I even arranged it so it wasn’t one those stuffy parties of mine that you hate so much!” “Well, maybe I didn’t want you to throw a goddamn party for me, did you ever think of that?!” James yelled. “I don’t want this! Do you know what you—it—it all just—oh, forget it,” he muttered, and stalked off to the side of the room, where he was instantly thrust into a conversation with Heidi’s friend Katie and her husband Chris. *** James couldn’t really understand why he was so mad at Nathan, who he avoided for the rest of the party. He knew it had something to do with that flame inside of his chest that Nathan ignited every time he talked to him or touched him, but other than that it was hard to work out. He just felt unexplainably angry. Although James did not approach or talk to Nathan in the few hours after their argument, he had noticed Nathan become steadily drunker as the evening progressed. He had already looked slightly tipsy when James had arrived; by the end of the night his shirt was half-way unbuttoned, he was stumbling around and laughing very loudly for no reason at all, and his speech was slurred beyond all comprehension by normal humans. He had a general appearance of lop-sidedness. By eleven o’clock, the place was emptying, and quickly. It hadn’t been too long of a party. Most of the people who had attended hadn’t been what one would call young, and were all tired out by ten. James couldn’t blame them, really; he was ready to turn in himself. It had been a crazy party, filled with wild dancing with random strangers that he had never met and long talks with old friends that he hadn’t seen in years and that he’d had no idea that Nathan knew about. The whole evening had just been a whirlwind of confusion and occasional cocktails. Although he desperately wanted to leave, he kept getting side-tracked by women in fur-coats who wanted to have a word with him before he left, and several men, all with thin moustaches, who wanted his opinion on the stocks, despite James’s insistence that he knew next to nothing on the subject. When he finally escaped from the talk of tips and shares, he ran smack into Nathan’s campaign manager, who was standing in front of the door with a blank expression on his face. “Mr. Petrelli would like you to stay and finish the last cocktail with him,” he said. “Oh—oh, I can’t, I have somewhere really important to be...” James said, but the campaign manager did not heed him and instead grabbed his arm and practically dragged him over to Nathan, who was sitting all by his lonesome at one of the banquet tables.  The last few stragglers were filing out the door, and after the campaign manager had shoved James into a seat next to Nathan, he followed. “‘Lo, Jim,” Nathan said, with a silly smile on his face. He laid his head down on the table and spread his arms out like wings. “I can fly, Jim-may! Woosh!” James pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “What do you want, Nathan?” “Have a drink wit’ me, ol’ pal,” Nathan said, and slid a martini glass over to him. “No thanks,” said James, and set the glass aside. “I don’t think you should be having anymore, either.” “Nope! I’m righ’ as rain!” Nathan cried, suddenly lifting his head off of the table and flapping his arms about. ��Rain, like th’ scthuff that falls from th’ sky!” “You need to go home.” “Righ’ as rain, my frien’, righ’ as rain,” Nathan repeated, and stopped flapping his arms like a madman. “Ya know wha’, wha’ really gets my but’ons goin’?” “No, what,” James said disinterestedly, looking around the room for anyone that might’ve stayed behind so they could help him get Nathan out of there. No such luck. The place was deserted. Even the clean-up crew was gone. “When people try an’ take away wha’s bes’ of me!” he yelled, and slammed his fist onto a fork, which consequently went flying into the air. “They a’ways do that! Ev’time I move! There they are, wit’ their pitchforks!” James had to suppress a small laugh; Nathan was not making any sense, and it was rather funny, although at the same time hard to watch. Nathan Petrelli being anything but at his coolest was hard to watch. “Nattie, we need to get you home,” James said, more kindly this time, and attempted to lift Nathan up, but he was pushed off when Nathan started waving his arms again. “Pete’s dream was true, didja know? I tol’ ev’one it wasn’t, but it was, an’ I was floatin’ above the car, and then Hi-dee smashed-ed into the thingies fulla stuff. I can fly, Jim, I’m tellin’ ya!” “Okay, yeah, sure, you can fly, but right now we need to fly you on back to Hyde Park.” He pinned down Nathan’s wildly flapping arms and pulled him out of the seat. “You be huggin’ me, Jim,” said Nathan quietly as James positioned himself behind Nathan, his arms wrapped around him, and started walking them both to the exit. “What? Oh, sorry—” James’s arms immediately dropped to their sides, and Nathan fell backwards into him. “Ah—crap—” James held him up by the arms while Nathan giggled insanely. “It was par’ of my evil plan! Mwahahaha!” Nathan cackled. Okay, there is no way we’re getting him back home like this, James thought, and then said, “We’re gonna get a room for you, Nathan. Okay?” “We’re gonna get a room?” “Yeah. Just don’t pass out on me, all right?” “‘Kay.” Nathan’s head drooped onto his chest. James kicked open the large double doors and looked around for the elevator. All the way down the hall. Deciding that he needed to get Nathan into a position that wouldn’t be so taxing for himself, he adjusted Nathan’s right arm so that it was over James’s shoulder, and, grunting, pulled Nathan up so that he was standing on his own two feet. “All right,” James panted, and started shuffling on towards the elevator, Nathan still giggling. “Wha’ room we goin’ to, Jim?” Nathan asked. “I dunno,” said James, and tried to work out a game plan in his head. Okay, so, he’d go to the main lobby and get a room for Nathan, bring him up there and lay him down on his side. He probably ought to put a trash can within reach of him, too. Then he’d call Nathan’s campaign manager so he could come back, pick Nathan up, and make sure he was all right. James just did not understand why Heidi and the boys had left without him. Had he told them to? Or was Heidi getting embarrassed by Nathan’s drunken behavior, and had taken the boys and gone home? He supposed it was neither here nor there, but it was also very inconvenient, as he had no idea how to reach them and tell them what was going on. James pushed the down button with his elbow, and waited impatiently for the elevator to reach them. Why was it that elevators in hotels like these always took forever? You’d think given how expensive the rooms were, the elevators would work faster— Ding. The elevator doors slid open and James hauled Nathan inside and leaned him up against the wall, where he promptly slid down to the floor and laughed hysterically. “Elevator go WHEE!” Nathan shrieked with delight as the elevator closed its doors and made its way down to the first floor. James stared at Nathan with wide eyes and shook his head. Nathan’s drunken silliness was incredibly disturbing. He was like a hyperactive five year old who didn’t know how to use his legs. After what seemed like forever, but was really only about thirty seconds, the elevator once again opened its doors and James quickly pulled Nathan into an upright position and shoved him into the lobby, to the stares of the old Japanese couple who got on after them. “I can walk all by m’self, Jim, thankee,” said Nathan, and stumbled over to one of the large couches and threw himself onto it, laughing and biting his thumb. James looked over at the main desk; there was an absurdly long line, considering how late it was. He sighed and stood behind a young blonde woman that was holding a leather briefcase and tapping her foot impatiently. Glancing over at the clock, which read 11:16, he calculated that it would take about half-an-hour to get to the front—that was, if nothing slowed the line down. He wished there was a way he could cut in front of somebody... But, he couldn’t, and had to suffer through standing in place for at least five minutes at a time and his foot falling asleep at random moments. When his turn finally came (about forty-five minutes later; an elderly couple took fifteen minutes because they couldn’t hear anything anyone was saying), he slammed his credit card on the desk and announced: “I don’t have a reservation, but I need a room for Congressional candidate Nathan Petrelli now.” “I’m sorry, sir,” the hotel receptionist said, tucking a lock of black hair behind her ear, “we’re completely over-booked—” James hated playing the “famous” card, but he didn’t have too many options left. “Do you know who I am?” She shook her head. “I’m James Yates,” he announced. “The producer.” The receptionist’s eyes widened in shock and a brilliant grin spread across her face. “Ohmigod! I recognize you now! You did The Fix Is In, didn’t you?! I loved that movie SO MUCH! It was brilliant! Julianne Moore was—” “Thank you, I appreciate it, but I really, really need a room for Petrelli, so if there’s anything you can do...” “Oh, of course! Actually—” She did some quick typing on her keyboard, and her face lit up. “There’s a suite that just became available. The Executive Harbor View Suite. Would you like to book that room?” “Yes, please,” said James, and went through all the formalities as fast as he could. The suite ended up costing $750 for the night. He briefly considered making Nathan pay him back after he recovered, but decided against it as it would seem petty and selfish, since James was wealthy enough to afford it anyway. After getting the room key, he hurried on over to Nathan, who was still lying stomach-down on the couch, and now banging his fists on the cushions. He was garnering some strange stares from passerby. “C’mon, Nathan, get up,” James muttered, and Nathan complied, giggling as he did so. “Whar we goin’, Jimbo?” Nathan asked as James ushered him back into the elevator. “The room.” Nathan fell onto James’s shoulder and mumbled drunken things under his breath that James paid no heed to as he pressed the according button. They groaned gently up the elevator. “S’it a nice room?” Nathan inquired as they stepped off the elevator and James slid the key into the slot. The door unlocked with a loud beep. “Let’s find out,” he said, and opened the door. It was nice, well worth the 750 bucks. He had no time to dwell on the furnishings and the large size, however, and gently eased Nathan onto the bed. “Here, drink some water,” James said, spotting a complimentary water bottle on the nightstand, and tossed it over to Nathan, who dropped it and guffawed. “I was never a ver’ good catcher,” he said, and started to pick it up off the floor, but toppled over and landed in a heap on the carpet. “Woops! Ha ha...” Getting a little fed up with Nathan’s antics, James made a noise of exasperation and hoisted Nathan back onto the bed, turning him sideways. He placed the bottle of water beside him and watched Nathan unscrew the cap clumsily and suck out the water like he was a baby drinking from a milk bottle. Okay, now for a trash can, James thought, and spotted one near the writing desk. He placed it within vomiting reach next to the bed and patted Nathan reassuringly on the shoulder. Now that everything was all nice and ready for Nathan to recuperate, James stood there pointlessly, hands on his hips. He was finally all alone in a hotel room with Nathan, and ravishing him was completely out of the question. It was a tad depressing. There was nothing left to do but call the campaign manager to come pick Nathan up. James was about to reach into his pocket and take out his cell phone when Nathan croaked out, “You gon’ leave, Jimmy?” James hesitated. “Why? Do you want me to?” “No!” Nathan sat up, clutching the water bottle in his two hands, with an utterly pathetic look on his face. “Don’t leave me ‘ere alone.” James instantly softened, the whole night’s debacle completely wiped from his mind as he stared into Nathan’s pitiful eyes. His heart seemed to grow about five times bigger and his head felt as light as air. “I won’t.” “‘Kay.” Nathan smiled sleepily and flung the water bottle aside. “‘Member last time I was dis drunk, Jim?” “Huh?” “S’was the Christmas party las’ year,” he recalled. “Couldn’ ‘member a thing the nex’ day! Passed out on the couch. ‘Member, Jim? That was a fun party.” “Oh, yeah...” It had been a fun party, up until Nathan’s very heated argument with his wife that he swore up and down that he couldn’t remember any of the following day. Apparently he could not remember calling Heidi an “overly made-up whore”, and a “circus freak wit’ a botched-ed up nose job”. Which James supposed was a blessing, because if he had remembered it Heidi would’ve torn him apart every day for the rest of his life. A startling realization suddenly dawned upon him. If Nathan wasn’t going to remember anything from tonight... “Wha’s the matter, Jim?” Nathan asked with concern as James began to pace the floor. “Somethin’ on your mind?” “Yeah...” James became incredibly excited, his heart rate going at warp speed and his breathing becoming faster and faster with every passing second. “Yeah, something has been weighing on my mind for a long time, Nathan...two years, as a matter of fact...” “Wha’ is it?” James stopped pacing and gazed at Nathan, who was sitting very simply, Indian-style, in the middle of the bed. After a moment or so, with a firm resolve in his mind, he sat down on the edge of the bed and took deep, calming breaths. “Mus’ be serious,” he heard Nathan mutter, and Nathan turned to face him, an expectant look on his face. “I never told you this,” James said in a hushed voice, “because I knew it would wreck our friendship, and possibly make you hate me, but...but since you’re not going to remember...” He paused. “Go on,” Nathan urged. “I...I’ve loved you for such a long time,” he blurted suddenly. “Every time I look at you, I just feel...this weird bubble of happiness swell up in my stomach...and...I don’t know what it is, but you drive me completely mad, and I...I...I love you—!” He abruptly broke off, small beads of sweat pouring from his forehead, his eyes wide and fearful. He felt, however, a sense of triumph—like the world had just been lifted off his shoulders, but that without the world on him he might tumble over and fall off the universe like Nathan had fallen off the bed mere minutes ago. Nathan looked shocked for a second, but then—oddly—a slow grin came across his face, and, before James knew what was happening, Nathan was smashing his lips against his. What the—! was the only thought that popped into James’s head as Nathan ran his tounge against James’s upper lip, his drunken breath diffusing its way up to James’s nose.   It was like someone was grabbing the inside of James’s chest and pulling some sort of air-like substance out of his body as Nathan pushed James flat-backed onto the bed and started kissing him deeper and deeper until James couldn’t breathe and a million thoughts were flooding into his mind and time seemed to stop and the world was on fire and his lips were on fire and every inch of him was on fire and he couldn’t stop it and he didn’t want to stop it and— Finally coming to his senses, he yanked his lips away from Nathan’s and panted, “What...the...hell...was...that?” Nathan laughed softly near his ear, his thick black lashes scratching James’s lobes. He started to say something, and then promptly passed out on top of him. 

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