I'm beginning to think that the second fanfiction is more important than the first- it proves if you're a passing fancy or not. So, here's my first post-Pennames story. It's VERY AU, so if that's not your thing, and you're going to tell me 'This is such inaccurate crap', I'd prefer if you'd just go read something that follows the plot we all love, worship, and live by. One last note- Coheed and Cambria owns the song "Devil in Jersey City". Now go wild.
"It's on! It's on!" Fourteen-year-old Katie Miller jumped up and down, shrieking and pointing at the TV. Her screams were echoed by both her best friends as the trio gathered in front of the screen, curling up on pillows and blankets they'd laid out earlier. It had become a tradition- every Friday night, they slept over at each other's houses, and watched their favorite show from nine to ten.
'Devil in Jersey City' began to play, and faces of the cast flashed across the screen. Teenage it-girl Louise Grant grinned in the shot they'd taken of her as her name appeared beneath her face. Bubbly and beautiful Madeline Lynn followed suit, and then award-winning Paris Gellar. Finally, drop-dead gorgeous Rory Gilmore appeared on screen, and then faded out to allow the words "Jersey Girls" to scroll across in various fonts.
How could three young teenagers NOT get hooked on such a show? Four cute adolescent girls, living in a fictional New Jersey town, dealing with mean parents, hot boyfriends, and tough teachers. All while looking super sexy in their Wardrobe-picked duds. It was a far cry from real life, but what teen drama wasn't?
"Lights, camera, action!" Max Medina's voice echoed over the set as his cast unfroze and began to spin the storyline.
"I've always been able to overlook your faults, Maddie. No matter what you did, no matter how many people you hurt, I was the only one who stuck with you. I ignored the fact that you DESERVED to be alone, and I stayed on your side. But now…I can't be there for you anymore. I'm so sorry it has to be like this, but it does. Just…stay away from us." The blonde turned and walked down the hallway, tears glistening in her eyes. Staring after her, a tall brunette girl kept her face emotionless, but her shoulders sagged. As Haley walked out of the camera's view, a bell rang, and dozens of extras poured out into the hallway, walking around a motionless Madison. When they edited the material, they'd cue the music there.
"And CUT. Nice job people! I think that's a wrap for this scene." Rory exhaled, and headed off set. She was joined by her costar as they plopped down in matching director's chairs.
"Hey, good job out there," she congratulated Louise as her publicist trotted over to her.
"You too. Hi Lorelai."
"Ladies," Rory's mother answered in acknowledgement. "Did Max say you're done yet?"
"Just wrapped up. Are we shooting anything else today?"
"They want to get the confrontation between Madison and Ian out of the way today, so Louise is free. You, honey bunny, are not."
"In that case, ciao." The blonde stood up and walked towards her trailer as Lorelai took the deserted seat.
"More work?" Rory groaned. It fell on deaf ears as Lorelai was not just her mother, but her management staff.
"Let's get you over to Makeup, you're looking smudgy."
"Well you're sounding bossy." Lorelai was stopped from responding by the director's approach.
"Lorelai, Lorelai." Rory smiled, while her mother sank into the seat and looked nervous.
"Max, do we HAVE to do another scene today?" She pouted for effect, trying to end her work day. Being yelled at over and over by Louise had tired her out.
"I think so, but it shouldn't take too long. You'll be out of here by the time you'd normally go to bed." He smirked good-naturedly, and walked off with a nod to Lorelai. As soon as he left, she let out a deep breath. Rory looked at her sympathetically.
"Poor baby, was that weird?"
"A little. But it's not like I didn't know it would always be weird when I left him at the Alter."
"I wish you hadn't done that. If he was my step-dad, I bet he wouldn't make me stay here 'till eleven."
"So my personal happiness means nothing to you if you're tired?"
"Well, actresses are supposed to be self-absorbed. Scoot on over to Makeup, you're looking smudgy."
Forty-five minutes later, the Gilmores were walking onto another set, this one a messy boy's bedroom. Sports posters decorated the walls, and baggy jeans decorated the floor. Sitting on the sidelines was her costar in this scene, Tristin Dugrey. His eyes moved frantically over the paper he had in his hand, occasionally lifting them and checking his watch.
"Late liner," she teased, sitting beside him. He looked up and grinned the grin that had graced the cover of Teen People magazine the past month.
"What can I say? I've been busy." She raised her eyebrows and laughed.
"Sitting on my ass and watching TV."
"Yea. That's what I thought. You'd better not let Max see that script." He whisked it under his chair as Max approached, nodding to them.
"C'mon guys, let's do this quickly. Rory apparently can't wait to get away from me." Rolling her eyes, Rory walked where she was directed to stand on the floor, and the cameraless rehearsing began.
Lorelai snoozed as Rory and Tristin worked into the night on their scene, painting a picture of a smutty girl who'd slept with her best friend's boyfriend.
"It was a mistake, okay! I was lonely, you were there, and you were looking good. That's all, no deep underlying feelings, no sign from above, no amazing revelations! You're Haley's guy! You belong with her- you're the God forsaken Quarterback and Cheerleading Captain!"
"I'm NOT Haley's guy, Madison! I keep trying to tell you that, why won't you listen?"
"Because you've been with her since we were all like twelve, and must I revisit the Quarterback issue?"
"Something was there in seventh grade, Madison, but that was four years ago! We haven't even been together the whole time, we've had so much drama- we're broken up more often than we're together! We were broken up when me and you were together!"
"It doesn't change the fact that you're Haley's guy. You were when we had sex, you are now, and you always will be. You two love each other, you're just scared to admit it."
"Do not try to tell me how I feel about Haley, okay? All I know is that I'm over her. And now I'm into you. You didn't have any problems with that a few days ago, but now that Haley found out, oh, you're freaking out."
"Of course I'm freaking out, as you so eloquently put it. Haley hates me, and Kris and Kayla took her side! I have no one right now, and I'm okay with that. I deserve it. I knew you were off limits, and I went with it anyway."
"Madison, don't do this just because Haley's mad at you."
"I'm not! Haley being mad at me made me snap out of whatever the hell I was going through that would make me think it was okay to have sex with you, Ian, but I couldn't be whatever you had in mind anyway. I'm not 'into you', you were just there!" The whole time they'd been arguing, they'd paced the room and gestured wildly. Now Tristin moved back, looking dejected.
"So it really didn't mean anything? I was just another guy Madison Armstrong got her claws into for a night."
"It was a one-time thing," she affirmed. "And I do regret it." He nodded slowly, and then walked to the door bearing a Pamela Anderson poster.
"Fine. I guess now you want me to go back to Haley and apologize, and maybe see if I can find it in my heart to ask her if she'll forgive you too." He opened the door.
"Do whatever you want, just get over the stupid crush you apparently have on me. I'll clean my own mess up, thank you." She walked out, and he paused before calling after her.
"Who told Haley?" She stopped, but didn't turn.
"I did." Exit stage right.
"Cut! That's a wrap!" Rory stopped walking with a sexual swagger in her step, and trudged her feet over to her mother. She lightly shook her awake while rubbing at the makeup caked on her face.
"I think we're done. What time is it?" Lorelai held her wrist out while trying to cover up a yawn. She had good reason to be yawning, because it was 11:14.
"'Kay, you go change into something that wouldn't shock a nun, and I'll find out what's on the schedule for tomorrow." They went their separate ways, each dazedly on a mission. Rory found her way back to her trailer where her loose jeans and red hoodie awaited her. Gratefully shedding Madison's costume (tight black jeans and blue spaghetti straps), and donned her own. A knock sounded at the trailer door, which she called out a welcoming response too, and began to brush her hair in attempt to get some of the hairspray out.
"Oh hey Max. Can I help you?"
"I just wanted to say have a nice late spring/early summer. I don't know if I'll be able to make all the rounds in the next week, so I thought I'd get started early with my well-wishings."
"Thanks, you too. What does Max Medina do on his break?"
"Well, he sleeps a lot."
"He stresses out about Season Three."
"Max, it'll be fine. We have through-the-roof ratings, an army of mindless viewers, a group of super-talented script writers, and our unfailingly perfectionist director." He smiled in gratitude.
"Tell your mom I said enjoy her time off. And keep your phone on the next few months- I'm going to be calling to run some stuff by you."
"The writers and I have some ideas for Madison's new boyfriend."
"Oh, I actually get a boyfriend? Not another one-night stand?"
"Nope, this time Madison wants to be in a relationship, but she'll have her share of freak-outs. Au revoir." He bumped into to Lorelai on his way out, and the two stuttered as they apologized. As soon as he left, Lorelai leaned against the door.
"I cannot wait for time off, I need to get away from him for a little while, to clear my head."
"What time do we need to be here tomorrow?"
"Once again, complete disregard for Mommy's feelings!"
"Mom, the sooner you tell me the sooner we can get going. Then you can sleep in your own bed, not a crappy director's chair."
"Three at the latest. Downside: acting opposite Paris."
"She's not THAT bad, once you get to know her."
"Poor child, you must be sleep deprived. Who knows what you'll say next? Maybe something nice, for a change, about your wonderful mother, maybe something politically incorrect, maybe something in German."
On the other side of New York, Rory and Lorelai climbed out of their SUV after parking it under their favorite light in the parking garage. They took the elevator up to their floor in the apartment building which housed many a celebrity. Patricia LaCosta, a Broadway belle, lived directly above them, and was always playing loud salsa music the girls liked to dance to in their own living room. Across the hall were jazz pianist Morey Dell and his lovable wife Babette. Calvin Klein's hottest (and, as Rory knew, most despicable) male model, Dean Forester, lived down the hall. Kirk Gleason, youth entertainer, and Andrew, the reclusive but occasionally friendly author, bookended their stylish abode. Lane Kim and Dave Rygalski, rock's favorite couple, lived elsewhere in the building, as did politician Taylor Doose.
"So what did Max say before I came in?" Lorelai asked as she threw her keys down on the island counter.
"He was just saying have a good vacation, and keep my phone on so they can run some stuff by me."
"He wants to give Madison an honest-to-goodness boyfriend. My curiosity would be piqued if I wasn't falling asleep on my feet."
"Sleep tight." Rory kissed her mother on the cheek, and went down the hallway to the master bedroom. She considered changing into the light blue lacy nightgown Louise had given her for Christmas, but instead slipped into an oversized Mickey Mouse shirt, and boxer shorts with little multi-colored kittens on them. She definitely wouldn't be making any more best-dressed lists looking like that, but it was comfortable.
She crawled into her big white bed after brushing her teeth for the recommended three minutes, and hit a button on the remote next to her bed. Tyler Hilton began to play softly as she switched the light off, and snuggled down into the feathery sheets.
As always, she was most insecure at bedtime. She may have walked red carpets and signed autographs during the day, but her subconscious brain came out and teased her when she tried to fall asleep. As she heard the garbage disposal choke and growl down the hallway, she smiled sadly. At least her Mom had a boyfriend. It wasn't always the sanest relationship, but it was cute. She was alone. She had friends and family, but she was unloved. She thought back to the day.
She'd let herself in Dean's apartment, planning on cooking dinner for him. It was only Mac and Cheese, but he got a kick out of her trying to cook for him. She set her bag on the counter and took out the Kraft box, reading the instructions on the back. Down the hall a door opened, and Rory looked up with a smile. She hadn't realized Dean was home, but she didn't really care if he sat on the counter and cracked jokes about her culinary skills while she strained the noodles.
"I thought you said you had a shoot today," she greeted, but gasped when she saw who it was.
A month before, they'd had a fight because the ad Dean was modeling for featured him and a dumb blonde named Lindsay basically being all over each other. She'd hated it, but he'd made the obvious argument that her character on Jersey Girls had some pretty heated make-out sessions with different guys. She hadn't been able to argue with that logic, she just didn't like someone so FAKE so close to her guy.
And now Lindsay was standing in the kitchen, wearing Dean's Interpol shirt, looking terrified.
"Hi." I'm the girlfriend of the guy whose bedroom you just walked out of, looking like you got hit by a tornado.
"Hi." I'm the other girlfriend of the guy you're making macaroni for after he told you he was working today. Both girls stood there, staring at each other, silent.
"I gotta go." Leaving her ingredients, Rory nearly bolted from the apartment, down the hall, into her own apartment, past Lorelai and Luke in the living room cutting carpet squares, into her own bed, where the confused look on her face disappeared, and was replaced by one of pain. She had cried for the whole afternoon.
She awoke the next morning, tears on her cheeks. Dammit, she'd fell asleep thinking about Dean and the end of their relationship, which had been over four months ago. And thus, she'd dreamed about him. She had to stop doing that, it couldn't be healthy. Kicking the covers off, she headed for the kitchen. As soon as she entered, her mother and Luke sprang apart looking guilty.
"I'm just passing through," she commented as she poured a cup of coffee.
"I was just here to fix the garbage disposal. It was broken." Luke reached into the sink and pulled out the spoon Lorelai had obviously dropped in it last night before Rory sank into Dean-filled slumber.
"Luke, I've known about the two of you for almost a year. You don't have to sneak around when you're in here."
"We're not sneaking, I'm just not supposed to be up here during work hours unless I'm doing that. Working." Luke was the maintenance man in their building, and Lorelai was forever unplugging their fridge, clogging their drains, breaking their garbage disposal, or the occasional creative emergency she managed to cause. Like breaking the glass doors of her shower. She claimed it was because she harbored destructive tendencies as a result of growing up in a hostile family environment. But everyone who knew her and Luke knew they'd been together since Lorelai dumped Max; he'd been the major factor in the decision, actually. So everyone knew she broke things simply to see Luke for a few minutes during the day.
"Mom, I'm going to the gym, come with?"
"You're skinny enough as it is, you are not going to the gym." Rory shrugged.
"Tell that to Hollywood, baby."
"Fine, but only if we can take a nice long steam after we finish."
"Go find some booty shorts and a really little top." Lorelai nodded as Rory walked back to her room with her coffee, and then turned to Luke.
"If you hang around, you can see me in booty shorts."
"Tempting, but I have a toilette to plunge a floor down. Because rich people can't plunge their own toilettes." He kissed her briefly, and then left. Lorelai sighed after him.
"I'm dating a blue-collar man. And I love it."
Jess rolled out of bed at the sound of the phone. The girl beside him stirred, but didn't wake. He wished she would. It was getting to be late morning, and he didn't want to have to feed her out of politeness.
"H'lo?" he answered, sleep still shrouding his voice.
"My name is Max Medina, I'm a Jersey Girls writer, director, and producer." Jess woke up at the words Jersey Girls. He'd began auditioning a few weeks ago out of necessity- his off-Broadway show was wrapping up, and he needed a new gig.
"We were going to request that you come in for a final audition, but the other man we were going to bring in had a family emergency, and informed us he couldn't take the job. So I guess this is congratulations."
"I got it?" Jess played to win, so he'd put his heart into his audition. But he still didn't think he was right for the part.
"You're our Tony. I'll have someone call you in a few weeks with details about where to show up and when and why, but I wanted to personally be the one to welcome you to the cast."
"Uh, thanks. Means a lot to have the big dog himself call."
"No problem. Have a nice day." Jess hung up, grinning incredulously to himself. He, Jess Mariano, screw-up and down-and-out actor, was going to be on one of the hottest TV shows known to America. This was going to be interesting.
Still grinning, he turned towards the bed where the petite brunette was sitting up, staring quizzically at him.
"You want some food, Melanie?" She frowned.
What do you think?