Lunar New Year

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford has decided that Autor does not get out of the house enough. Sure, he walks the dog and goes to pick up groceries now and then, but that doesn't count. He's seen the same two-mile stretch of the neighbourhood since he moved in.

Wilford has decided to change this. After everything short of straight up kidnapping, he managed to get Autor and the dog into the car, out of the neighbourhood, out of the Hills, and into Vinewood. All without a single fender bender along the way.

Part of Wilford's contract with the network is that the show goes dark during certain pre-arranged times. This is one of those times, though that doesn't mean the studio is empty. If anything, it's just as busy and noisy as it usually is, but with the inclusion of booze and a dozen types of delivery laid out in some of the conference rooms. Somewhere, a very angry woman can be heard screaming at people to please, for the love of GOD, don't light that inside!

Judging by the fire alarm twenty seconds later, someone lit the thing. Luckily, they get it to stop its noise after a few seconds.

Comments

[herr_bookman]

Autor doesn't want to be here, but he promised Wilford he'd at least try to be sociable. He doesn't understand why Wilford is so insistent upon it--after all, in Autor's opinion, he interacts with enough people at the bar--but he can try.

He shadows Wilford, keeping quiet until he sizes everyone in the room up regarding how much of a threat they are to him.

[cottoncandypink]

Buster doesn't seem to think there's any threat here, and bounds happily off to go find someone to say hello to. But then again, the dog eats rocks, so what does he know?

Wilford lets the dog go, and heads straight for one of the conference rooms. The studio is clean, though not necessarily tidy. The walls show evidence of having been patched up multiple times, and the carpet has definitely been replaced in sections, with whoever doing it apparently having given up on ever trying to find appropriate matches and just grabbing anything that fit.

The conference room is where the biggest gathering seems to be happening. Some people Autor should recognise are standing around a long table, drinking beer and holding little plates of nibbles while they laugh with their co-workers. Wilford immediately breaks off to go bother Nichola, leaving Autor at Kevin's mercy. Kevin quickly slides over, offering Autor a bread-like thing shaped like a fish.

"Who are you?" he asks at once.

[herr_bookman]

Autor stiffens. He has, as a rule, not given his name out to people in the bar--and even at home--but there's really no way around this question. He takes the fish thing with a murmured thanks and bites into it, chewing the red bean filling contemplatively. It's like nothing he's ever tasted before, not too sweet, with the texture of refried beans.

"Autor," the boy says to the blue-haired stranger. "Who are you?"

[cottoncandypink]

"I'm Kevin. I'm taking over this place when he finally kicks it," Kevin says, jabbing a thumb toward Wilford.

He gets no fewer than three mostly-empty beer cans thrown at him for that remark, all without a word from anybody. He almost ducks out of the way, and ploughs on as if it never happened.

"You must be the guy, then. The one Bill mentioned. You really get paid to cook for the mutt?"

[herr_bookman]

Autor ducks at the thrown beer cans, as one almost pings off his head. He stuffs the rest of the fish pastry in his mouth and swallows before answering Kevin's question. "I really do. Why, are you jealous?"

[cottoncandypink]

"Hell no." Kevin stuffs half a fish pastry into his mouth as well. "I put up with him enough as it is. You should demand a raise."

He knows what it's like to work for Wilford.

"How many times have you been fired?"

[herr_bookman]

"He's never fired me," Autor says, tilting his head. "You really think I should demand a raise?"

[cottoncandypink]

Kevin blinks.

"Why haven't you fired this punk?" he shouts at Wilford, who ignores him.

Now he's jealous.

[herr_bookman]

Trying to avoid Kevin's wrath, Autor extricates himself from the situation, and crosses the room to Nichola. She and Billy are over at the house fairly often, so Autor feels safer with her than he does with Kevin at the moment. "Nichola. Hello."

[omgplsstop]

Nichola turns and smiles to him. It's her friendly smile - the real one; not the friendly smile she puts on when she hates someone.

"Hey. You showed up. Ignore Kevin. He's always like that."

He's also being literally shown the door by someone bigger than him. Since nobody else seems to notice, it's probably normal.

[herr_bookman]

"Wilford said I had to," Autor says, wishing he had a drink or another fish pastry, just so his hands wouldn't be empty. He stuffs them in his pockets. "How are you?"

[omgplsstop]

Nichola notices the nervous fidgeting and finds an unopened can of beer from a cooler under the table.

"This night is the bane of my existence," she says honestly as she hands Autor the can of Pißwasser.

"But it keeps his Royal Highness happy for a little while, so it's a small price to pay."

She looks around, realising suddenly that Wilford has disappeared somewhere.

[herr_bookman]

Autor takes the beer gratefully and cracks it open, but doesn't drink just yet. He glances around when she does. "Where is his Royal Highness?"

[omgplsstop]

"Who cares."

Nichola doesn't. Not until things start exploding again.

"No, I do care. Because he always has a trunk full of explosives, and I do not want to explain why this place burnt down when we're supposed to be dark."

She nudges Autor to follow her on her way out to the hall. Wilford is not immediately visible, which isn't necessarily a good thing.

"Fuck."

[herr_bookman]

"Dark?" Autor says, gripping his drink and following her. "Are we assuming he's going to light some fireworks?"

[omgplsstop]

"Uh. Not on the air," Nicholas explains quickly. She heads to Wilford's dressing room and opens the door, but all she finds is a couple of editors getting high on the couch.

"That's exactly what I'm assuming. I don't care if he blows himself up, as long as it's only himself."

[herr_bookman]

"I would very much prefer not to be blown up, thank you," Autor says, his eyes widening. "Should we check his car?"

[omgplsstop]

"Yeah."

Nichola goes with him to check, since the doors will be locked. His car is where it belongs, without anybody nearby looking like they've recently removed a large box of explosives from the trunk.

"Where is he?"

A very loud POP happens inside. Nichola wants to strangle someone.

"NOT IN THE GODDAMN BUILDING!" she shouts as she heads back inside.

[herr_bookman]

Autor nearly spills his beer. That pop sounds exactly like a mortar. His knuckles whiten as he grips the can in both hands, jamming his eyes shut and biting his tongue. He breathes deeply, trying to drown out the panic, and opens his eyes again to find himself alone. Gasping, he darts inside, towards the noise of people, rather than risk being outside by himself, and exposed.

[thatsmysandwich]

By the time Autor comes back in, Nichola is long gone, shrieking at someone in some distant part of the building while other people laugh.

It's not too long before Billy wanders out to see what's going on, and spots Autor standing in the foyer.

"What was that?" he asks, looking around as if the answer might be written on a nearby wall.

[herr_bookman]

Autor has to un-grit his teeth to speak; he'd clamped his molars together in an effort to stop the hammering of his heart. "I think Wilford set off a firework," he says, his beer dribbling over the edge of the can as his hands shake, holding it.

[thatsmysandwich]

Billy looks back toward the sound.

"No, he was with me."

The firework is probably true though.

He looks at Autor finally, and realises that there is a problem.

"Let's, uh. Not make Nick's night worse by staining the carpet," he says, taking the beer away and putting it on the reception counter. He looks around the area quickly, and points toward a door on the near side of the hall.

"Hey, have you seen our giant TV room?" he asks, trying to lead Autor in that direction.

[herr_bookman]

Autor balls his fists up and tries to stuff them into his pockets. He can't get enough air, and his vision is swimming. He feels cold. He gulps oxygen like a fish, and manages to shake his head as he walks towards the TV room. "No, I haven't seen it. W-What's it like?"

[thatsmysandwich]

"Come on. I'll show you."

'Giant TV room' is a bit of a misnomer. The room is actually no larger than the others, and there isn't a giant TV. There is, however, an entire wall full of screens. There are a few chairs, which Billy nudges Autor toward, while he finds the controls to light everything up.

"I don't know how they work this stuff," he admits, managing to only get screens with colourful bars on them. With enough button mashing, something's bound to happen though.

[herr_bookman]

Autor collapses into the indicated chair, his knees weak. He continues trying to breathe, cursing himself for being so weak. Eventually, after drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, he calms down enough to speak without stammering. "Interesting," he says, adjusting his glasses. "So this is where everything that's recorded shows up?"