South of Nowhere is a property of The-N and Viacom. I'm not a crack monkey therefore I do not work for the writers of South of Nowhere. I just borrow their characters for my own pleasure.
Author's Note: This story is completed so the chapters will come very fast or when I remember to update. :D. My original characters are not that original. They're from the show Life With Derek. Their characterizations are mine but their names and faces belong to that show.
Spencer pinched the bridge of her nose trying to fend off an oncoming headache. It seemed like the perfect way to end her not so perfect day, but then she realized that it was still only the afternoon. Spencer glanced at her watch and groaned when she saw the time. It was just a little past twelve, which meant she had at least another five hours before she could go home. Maybe if I fainted, I'll be able to go home. She quickly scratched that idea knowing that the cold concrete floor would hurt like hell if she pretended to collapse. Not that anyone would even notice. Spencer Carlin was having a bad day.
Being woken up by her grumpy neighbor, Mrs. Hegenboth, at four in the morning was an awesome way to start her day. She had complained that Spencer's radio was too loud and it was disturbing her birds. Mrs. Hegenboth didn't have birds, but Spencer humored her anyways. She apologized and turned off the "blaring noise." The only reason she had it on because she couldn't sleep the night before. Listening to music was the only way she could fall asleep, but the radio was barely above a decibel. Only dogs could hear it. Frigging psycho. I didn't know I had Mr. Heckles for a neighbor.
On her way back to bed, Spencer stepped in a puddle of cat pee. Cursing out loud, she lost her footing and landed in that puddle of pee. She had just gotten a new kitten and the little bugger wasn't quite sure where the litter box was so he peed and pooped wherever he pleased. It took Spencer a little over an hour to get cleaned up and by then, she couldn't go back to sleep. Figuring she'd start her day early, Spencer started to make her morning coffee only to find that was out of coffee.
Now she was in a cold warehouse, sleep-deprived, grumpy and was two seconds away from killing her best friend, Casey. Spencer watched as Casey yelled out orders to anyone who would listen and cringed at the volume of her voice. How can anyone yell that loud without a megaphone?
"Cut! Seriously you guys, this isn't rocket science. Take 5 and we'll re-shoot."
Spencer glared at her. She loved Casey with all her heart but they had been in this decrepit warehouse for hours filming a music video. They hadn't even taken a lunch break yet and Spencer was finding that lint covered mint in the bottom of her purse very appetizing with every passing minute.
"Seriously, Casey? 75 takes isn't enough?"
Casey looked up from her spot in her director's chair and gave her a sweet smile. "Stop being a drama queen, Spencer. It's the 73rd take."
Drama queen? That little whore. Spencer rolled her eyes and banged her head against the monitor she was leaning on. Yeah, that's the greatest cure for my headache. "That's going to be so much fun editing. I swear to God, you do it just to piss me off."
Spencer had known Casey for six years and had a love/hate relationship with her. They had met their Freshmen year of college as roommates and bonded immediately over their shared love of film, both majoring in the same subject. When they graduated, Spencer and Casey decided to form their own little film production working with small things such as local commercials, low budget music videos, and the occasional indie movie. They got along great when they weren't working, but the minute the camera started rolling, Spencer and Casey butted heads like no other.
When their film production first started, they made an agreement that Casey would be behind the camera directing, and Spencer would be the one editing and putting things together. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but Spencer soon found out that they had very different views on what made a good film or video.
Arguing over almost every decision the other made, Spencer suggested that they'd let the fates decide. The fates being a game of rock, paper, scissors. The system had been working for two years now. They had satisfied customers and a good chunk of change. The production company was named RoPaSci Film Productions to pay homage to their decision making game. Plus, Spencer liked explaining the random name to people who asked.
"Who the hell are these dumbasses anyways?" Spencer asked looking at the dailies that Casey shot. Ha, that loser as toilet paper hanging from the back of his jeans. She watched as the members of the band flailed around pretending to play their instruments and wondered who in their right minds would listen to this crap. So this is what music is coming to today? God, I feel old.
"Who the hell knows? All I know is that they don't understand the concept of markers." Casey pointed something in the monitor. "See? Hence the 73 takes."
Spencer scratched her head in frustration. She prided herself on being able to edit almost any footage but this one proved to be difficult. The lead singer looked drunk in almost every single shot and was always out of the frame. How hard is it to stand on a piece of tape? My cat could do it. The shots looked almost impossible to edit together in any semblance of continuity. They either had to make it look like an acid trip or re-shoot the entire thing.
Acid trip it is. "Alright, I'm pretty sure I can edit all these but it's just going to take me my entire life. When's the deadline?"
Casey cringed before answering. "Friday."
Friday? Did she say Friday? Oh, hell no. Spencer could feel her head throb even harder than before. "Friday?! Case, that's in two days. I can't edit that fast. Plus, I still have that other project that's been burning a hole in my hard drive. Not to mention that I didn't even want to take this project considering all the other stuff we have booked." Oh my God, so this is what an aneurysm feels like? I'm going to drop dead. Oh, I can go home if I do.
Casey grabbed a hold of Spencer's shoulders in attempt to calm her. "Spencer! Relax, we'll get it done, we always do." Spencer took a deep breath and tried to return her heart rate back to normal. "You okay, there?"
No, I want to punch someone in the face. "Yeah, I'm just really tired and really hungry. Where the hell is your slave with our food?"
Casey hit her playfully. "Stop calling her that! She's my girlfriend."
Spencer grinned. Keep telling yourself that, Casey. "Yeah, but Sally is so whipped she might has well be your slave. Didn't you get her a collar for her birthday?" This time, Casey really hit her hard. Fuck! When the hell did she get so strong?
"That was a necklace, you moron. And you know she hates it when you call her that?"
Spencer rubbed the spot on her arm where she was hit. That's going to leave a bruise. "Yeah, but torturing you two is how I get through my days." She gave Casey a kiss on the cheek before plopping down in the director's chair and laughed at her not so amused face.
"Bitch, who's name in on this?"
Turning around, Spencer read the name that was embroidered on the back of the chair. "K.C. McDindle."
"What?!" Casey grabbed the chair and spun it around, knocking Spencer right off it in the process. "Those bastards. I spent a hundred dollars to get my name on this. It's Casey McDonald!"
Yeah, a hundred dollars we could've used to spend on upgrading our computer software. Spencer rolled her eyes as she watched Casey storm off with a cell phone attached to her ear. I feel sorry for whoever is about to go deaf.
"Lunch is served!" A voice called from behind Spencer.
She turned around and saw a girl carrying a bag of take out in one hand and a guitar case in the other. Yay, slave girl! "Finally!" Spencer walked up to Sally and grabbed the bag. "You're late, slave."
Sally narrowed her eyes at her. "Hello to you too, Spencer." Spencer just gave her a cheeky smile before heading off to the table that was in the corner of the warehouse.
"Baby!" Oh, God. Casey finished her phone call and ran into her girlfriend's arms. She greeted her with a kiss and threw a dirty look over to Spencer. "Way to say hi to Sally, Spencer."
Spencer flipped them the bird. Please don't start making out, I'm about to eat.
"What crawled up her ass?" Sally asked putting her guitar case down to give her girlfriend a proper hug.
Casey shrugged. "You know, the usual."
"Ah, the dry spell."
Oh my God, I'm right here. Can they not see me? "Guys, if you're going to start your whole 'Spencer needs to get laid before she dries up like the Sahara' speech, can you do it when I'm not in earshot or when I'm not eating?" She threw a balled napkin in their direction but missed completely.
"Sorry, Spence." They dropped the subject and proceeded to make out.
Ew, I'm eating! Spencer gagged and turned away. She's known Sally as long as Casey. It was kind of hard to be friends with Casey without being friends with her other half. They have been together since they were fifteen and were pretty much inseparable. Spencer saw Sally almost every day during their college years. Sally focused on her music instead of attending college.
They were her best friends but there was only so much Spencer could take. Casey and Sally's PDA was sickening. It wasn't a pleasant feeling to be constantly reminded of how alone you were.
Spencer even went on every date that Casey and Sally set her up on. They claimed she was too picky. I'm not picky. It's not my fault all those girls were either too clingy, too detached, too shy, too eccentric….Okay, I am picky. Casey and Sally started to call her Goldie Locks and all her dates were the three bears. Spencer was still looking for the one that was "just right" but in the meantime, she had to endure watching her friends be all coupley.
Do they even stop to breathe? Spencer fought another gag reflex as she watched Casey and Sally eat each other's faces. "Um, Casey?" No response but more sucking of face. Jesus, do I need to get a crowbar? "Casey!"
Casey and Sally pulled apart flushed and dazed. "Sorry, Spence, what's up?" She unconsciously wiped her mouth as Sally continued to kiss her neck.
Spencer made a disgusted look. "Um, that five minute break you called ended fifteen minutes ago. We need to get a move on, I have places to be." And by places, I mean my bed taking a four-hour nap.
"Yeah, I actually have to go," Sally said looking at her watch. "I have to meet my friend at the park and I'm late." She gave Casey a peck on the lips and Spencer one on the cheek. "See you guys later." She grabbed her guitar case and ran out of the warehouse.
"She always has to meet her friend at the park," Casey said once Sally left.
Uh oh, here comes jealous Casey. "Yeah, um, what's her name again?" Spencer asked as they made their way back to the set.
"Tracey." Casey called everyone back to work and sat down in her chair.
"Tracey?" Spencer bit her bottom lip trying not to laugh. "Yesterday, her name was Courtney." She looked over at Casey who had taken a keen interest in the monitor in front of her. "And last week, it was Lindsay." No response. And I thought I was childish. "You know, one of these days you're going have to pay attention when Sally talks about her music."
"I do listen!" Casey stated defensively. "But all she talks about is how awesome and talented and funny and witty this girl is. I'd rather not hear about it." She huffed and put headphones on to listen to the video playback.
"You're jealous," Spencer sing-songed. "Casey, you're being irrational. Remember when you first met me? Sally was all kinds of jealous because you had someone you can finally talk about film with. Well, now Sally has found someone she can talk about her music."
"Whatever." She focused her attention at her task at hand. "Playback! And action!"
Aw, Ms. Little Pouty Face. "It's not like you take interest." Casey continued to ignore her. "Fine, be a petulant child. You know I'm right."
"I bet you she's hot."
"How would you know?"
"She's a musician! Girls with guitars are hot. Look at Sally."
"You're ridiculous." Spencer shook her head and watched the horrible band begin to play. The guitarist was a girl and she was in fact, hot. Spencer couldn't help but let her mind wander as she thought about another girl who played the guitar, but quickly shook those thoughts out of her head. "Okay, if it'll wipe that pout off your face, I promise I'll hit on mystery guitar girl so she'll stay away from your woman."
Casey looked over at her and smiled. "You do that for me?"
Yes, and plus I really do need to get laid. "This assuming she's even plays for our team."
"You're the best."
Damn, right I am. Now, I wonder how hot this girl is.