This is pretty much a filler. I apologize in advance.

Edit: hey guys. I don't know if you'll see this edit, but I wanted to say that I've decided to put this on hold. I cornered myself into turning this into a fic, and now I don't know what to do with it. It'll take a long time for me to finish it, but I will, just not right now. In the frame of mind I'm in, everything I'd write wouldn't do justice to the characters or my own pride. I'm very sorry. I'm going to update, yes, but it's going to take a while.


After another sleepless night, Mitchie was ready to pass out from exhaustion at any given minute. Her mind was sluggish and her arms felt like dead weights to her side.

They were having a first group gathering of all the movie crew, to organize and set some things straight. Mitchie wouldn't hang around the set too much, having a book to promote and other to write, but they wanted her in to lend some authority to Luke and his fellow editors.

Jason was directing this one; she trusted him completely and knew he was capable of the job. Luke and the others... well, she wasn't so sure.

She enlisted Caitlyn's help for the concept art, mainly because she needed an ally. Caitlyn was always happy to oblige and tag along; Mitchie suspected only because she'd been asking to meet the illustrious Shane Gray for two weeks.

They managed to come out of the subway unscathed. Being a NY native, Mitchie had perfected the confident and rushed type of walk you needed when crossing the busy streets. The Big Apple was an arrogant city, and only the determined could wade through the grey mass of people.

It snowed again; tiny flecks of white clung to her coat and hair. Mitchie's cheeks were tinted rosy pink by the wind and the cold. The CRP sign glowed red and painted a lovely play of colors in Caitlyn's light hair. Inside, the air was just a bit warmer, allowing Mitchie to take a deep breath to prepare herself to the crowd surely awaiting her.

Tess, as usual, ushered them into a conference room; but the disdain so clearly stained to her features that it couldn't be a result of Mitchie's arrival, nor Caitlyn's. This just served to further attest to Mitchie's theory of her having a past with Shane.

The man himself looked at her from where he was seated. His expression was stony and showed nothing but seriousness; but a corner of his lip lifted upwards at her entrance. She and Caitlyn passed his chair to sit down next to Jason, and she replied by touching his arm briefly as she passed.

After Jason introduced everyone, he proceeded to make a few statements; like how Mitchie had the last word on every scene, how he wouldn't tolerate any unprofessional behavior in his set and things like that.

Then they were talking about lights and the casting choices and other mindless details Mitchie didn't really care about; soon she was tapping her feet incessantly, earning to be out the chair and doing something. It's not like she wasn't aware of the importance of the meeting; it was her ADHD brain that wouldn't shut off and the ever-present characters who nudged her into unraveling the papyri of shiny new storylines.

The windows were closed, so no air was going into the room, making it harder for her not to feel caged. Sometimes New York made her feel free and limitless, but now it felt oppressive.

Caitlyn didn't take notice of it; she was talking to Hank Copely, the soundtrack composer. They were exchanging ideas with some of the writers heatedly, ideas practically bursting out of the air like fireworks. Jason was also busy with the producers and Luke. Across the room, Dana was immersed in a conversation with her co-stars.

Only Shane wasn't paying anyone attention. His fingers flew over his phone's screen. She took out her own and sent him a text.

"I expected you to be in full-fledged real-Shane-mode today."

They didn't look at each other, but he responded quickly. "I'm doing the same thing as u, rn."

"Yes, that's the point. I'm a natural bitch; what's your excuse?"

"Y do u type correctly on ur phone?"

"I even tweet correctly. I'm weird, if you hadn't noticed."

"What time does this end?"

"Whenever Jason decides. He's the boss."

"No he's not."

"He's your boss, not mine."

"Who's urs?"

"I'm my boss."

She could hear his slight chuckle from the other side of the table.

"No comment."

"Dana's looking at you every five seconds. Talk to her."

"And say wut?"

"I don't know. I don't understand people."

"Then how did u kno?"

"Mad skillz."

"C, I knew u had it in u."

"She probably wants to know the guy she's going to kiss on screen."

"Question is which Shane, the SOB or the real 1."

"Whichever you prefer. Now, I'm going to fake a meeting so I can get out of this shindig. Good luck. And talk to Caitlyn."

He texted her back just as she left the room.

"I hate u."