Action! (KrisYeol Fic) 1/5

[lizziepro]

Title: Action!
Pairing: KrisYeol
Genre: college!au, crack, comedy (for this chapter anyway)
Rating: PG-13 (swearing. as per usual).
Summary: Wu Fan has dreams of being the next Lars Von Trier, while Chanyeol just wants to make people happy.This partner film  project is obviously going to be a disaster, right?...

a/n: super ridiculously inspired by my production class times, except i ended up being good friends with my groupmates in that class. I just want Wu Fan in my film class/as my partner for all the projects in that class. And Chanyeol in any film class would be gold. so yeah. Film major struggs apparent in this fic, but it's whatever..............



If there was one thing Wu Fan loved, it was film.
He loved it more than he loved most things, including his newly acquired super fluffy cute alpaca stuffed animal he named Ace. 
He got it from his grandma, shut up.
And when he dressed it up, it was hard to not just sit and stare at it until his eyes fell out of his skull.
But that would be bad and probably scare Ace, but what does that even matter, since he's a stuffed animal?

Anyway, Wu Fan's film obsession was second to none.
He would watch pretty much any movie from any country by any director that specializes in any genre with any range of production value.
He especially had a thing for Latin American cinema.
Not that he knew any Spanish to speak of, but he felt he was cultured.
Or at least more cultured than the other kids in his film class.

He was doing exceptionally well in that class, to be honest.
He wasn't ashamed to admit it either.
He had turned in A projects all semester on his own, and he planned to keep it that way.

His films lacked a little in the scripting, containing one too many twists more often than not, or simply running dry and not affecting the crowd in any way.
That was fine with him.
Film wasn't about the dialogue.
Film was about the imagery.
Film was about what he could capture on the SD card and bring to others who might not get to ever see these places and things he records.

The image was his inspiration.

All of his work was beautifully shot, and he knew it.
He thrived on perfection in the image.
It was his lifeblood.
A beautifully shot film, with exquisite cinematography, and amazing camerawork........

It was indescribable.

He would get this feeling, this rush, and it would overtake his brain and his body, and he would feel nothing but elation.

It was perfect.

He was addicted to that feeling.

And it was that feeling that he wanted others to experience from his films.

Too bad that wouldn't happen now with this goddamn partner project for the final.

How did he get so unlucky?

The most fucking obnoxious kid in the class who wouldn't know what good film was even if a Truffaut dvd hit him square in his stupid squinty eye.

Wu Fan was frustrated to say the least, and he hadn't even met with the kid yet.

He just knew it would be hell though.

Absolute Hell. Loud, stupid, obnoxious Hell.

Park Chanyeol was a character, perfect for any film, just not any that Wu Fan would find worthy of his precious time.

Chanyeol's hair was dark, grimy, and unkempt to the max.

Wu Fan swore there were rats living in it, but maybe those random squeaks were actually from Chanyeol's mouth and not the rodents that possibly infested his hair.

He wore clothing that never really let you on as to what clique he might fit into, but he he had his own style somehow.

What a joke...

He smiled way too fucking much.

He was extremely loud.

He was abrasive.

A bad abrasive.

The first week of class Chanyeol's project was purely comprised of different angles and shots of various depths that all focused on him laughing.

Extreme wide shots of him sitting alone in a plain white room on a stool, cackling.

Medium close ups of him rocking back and forth on said stool, clapping his hands as he roared.

Close ups of the stupid fucker's face twitching.

Extreme close-ups that only depicted his teeth as his jaw was agape with humor.

That smile.

That dumb, obnoxious smile.

The asshole got an A+ on the project.

Obviously Professor Jung thought the kid was some kind of genius the likes of Ingmar Bergman or another Swede from the 1960s, even calling him up to help him film his current project.

Wu Fan saw right through the so-called genius and into the pure stupidity the boy seemed to ooze at all times.

Wu Fan was currently sitting in his editing station, witnessing this stupidity occur in his Thursday night production course. He was editing, or vaguely attempting to edit, a project he'd shot outside of class for a film festival in the city, but he was moreso wondering at this point what he'd done to be put in such an annoying position.

Chanyeol was 3 seats over, voice booming and hands clapping, as he laughed uproariously at something he must've said, or maybe it was just a speck of dust in the air. Who knew? It was Chanyeol. There were 4 girls seated around him at his editing station, where he was now heaving from lack of oxygen, and the girls all gave their best to get Chanyeol to notice them among the other girls in the group.
While it seemed Chanyeol was just enjoying the idea of making the girls laugh, the girls obviously had something different in mind.

Wu Fan wondered how this idiot got all these girls to fawn over him when Wu Fan could barely get a girl comfortable enough to ask her to be in his films.

Granted it could be a little creepy when a 6'2" man with extremely broad shoulders and other various intimidating features, such as hands bigger than any girl's face, asks you randomly to be in one of his movies.

Wu Fan didn't realize this though.

He just thought all girls were shy.

He was wrong.

Wu Fan continued to drag and drop pieces of footage aimlessly around the projects screen, adding various purposeless effects to ease his boredom, when Professor Jung came bursting through the door.

"Park Chanyeol, you and your fangirls find your seats. You can date them outside of class and film it for submission if you like, but not in my classroom. None of that shit in here," Professor Jung said as he set down his messenger bag and pulled out a couple of folders.

"What? I don't want to date any of these girls, hyung..." Chanyeol stated, face scrunched from obvious confusion.

A collective sigh was exhaled by the group of now wholly rejected girls as they walked to their stations, murmuring about how they have to quit school and move to Russia because now they have nothing to live for.

Wu Fan let his head fall to his desk in frustration at Chanyeol's utter obliviousness to the situation.

"Way to disappoint the masses, Chanyeol." Professor Jung stated, now standing over his main desk, holding himself up with his palms flat on the surface.

Stupid fucking Chanyeol.

"Alright everyone," Professor Jung clasped his hands together and stood up, beginning to pace back and forth at the front of the room, "You have 2 months left of class, but realistically only 7 classes left to meet here. So, today I'll assign you your final project partners-"

"AWWWWWWWWW. COME ON PROFESSOR! " the girls whined, writhing in their chairs.

"Yeah Yonghwa hyung! Can't we pick ourselves?!" Chanyeol earnestly tried to plead, even dropping to his knees.

"No Chanyeol. And besides, I pick at random anyway, so there's no grand scheme planned to fuck any of you over. Keep your shit together guys." Yonghwa said as he pulled a bag of paper pieces, presumably containing the names of classmembers, out of his messenger bag.

"You guys ready?" He asked, smirking at his students.

For as talented as he was, he was a major troll. Maybe that's why he got along so well with the students. That and the girls thought he was gorgeous.

Wu Fan was gorgeous.

Why didn't anyone want to help him work?

The collective nod from the class signaled Yonghwa was in the clear to choose partners without the risk of chairs flying at him at a bad pick.

The choosing began and went fairly well. After about 8 pairs matched, there were 2 pairs left to make.

Wu Fan was livid by this point as it was only him, Chanyeol, and 2 girls left.

There was no fucking way he'd get paired up with Chanyeol.

"Wu Fan! Let's see who your partner is..." Yonghwa said, reaching into the now dismal looking bag.

No. Fucking. Way.

The paper was pulled.

Wu Fan closed his eyes.

He didn't really hear the name Professor Jung called in reference to his partner for the project, as he'd shut himself out of everything happening in the classroom, but the deep booming "YES!" and the clapping that followed were enough to turn Wu Fan's stomach in knots.

Wu Fan opened his eyes, pleading silently with Professor Jung who stood at the front of the class, giggling to himself and returning Wu Fan's look by raising his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders.

Wu Fan then silently promised himself he'd never again go to another premiere put on by Professor Jung.

Though he knew that was a lie.

Wu Fan was fully awoken from his mental murdering of his professor as a body plopped down roughly in the seat adjacent to his own and a hand tapped his shoulder.

"Are you okay, dude?" Chanyeol asked, looking legitimately concerned for Wu Fan's safety. His eyes had grown big and his voice had gotten a little higher.

"Wha- Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" Wu Fan replied, shaking his head a bit and leaning back in his chair to cross his arms and look judgingly at the obscene body now next to him.

When did the room start smelling like old, rotting pecan pie?

"You looked like you were trying to take a mental shit on Yonghwa hyung..."

"I wasn't."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"I bet you're lying."

"What the fuck?"

"I'm Park Chanyeol."

"I know.

"And you're Wu Fan."

"I. KNOW."

"I like your name."

"Why?"

"It's not like mine."

"Okay."

"Do you ever smile?"

"What?"

"Do you ever smile? I've never seen you smile."

"I smile."

"You're lying again."

"I'm not! It just takes a lot to make me smile I guess. I'm not you. I don't smile at the fact that the lightbulbs in the room are functional."

"So you've noticed my smile?"

"What?"

"You should smile more, Wu Fan. I bet you'd have a handsome smile."

Wu Fan sat there gaping at the younger man as Yonghwa told everyone to get to work on their projects and leave if they'd like.

Chanyeol smiled and stood up in front of a still gaping Wu Fan.

"Let's meet tomorrow at 8pm. At the coffee shop. I put my number in your phone so you'll know it's me texting you to remind you of our meeting. See ya, Dragon." Chanyeol said with a smile and a wave, exiting the classroom.

WHAT?!

When the hell did Chanyeol even have time to put his name and number into Wu Fan's phone?!

Wu Fan watched as the boy left the room and then quickly averted his attention to his now ringing phone on the desk.

WHEN DID EVERYONE ELSE LEAVE THE ROOM?!

He really needed to get his shit together.

He picked up his phone and read the screen.

"Happy Virus" graced his screen with a photo of his new project partner in all his smiling glory.

"Hello?" Wu Fan answered timidly. He had no idea what was happening anymore. For all he knew, Chanyeol would find a way to jump through the phone and back into the room. Because he was Park fucking Chanyeol.

"Hi Dragon!" Chanyeol yelled on the other end.

"Why're you calling me Dragon?"

"Cause I'm willing to bet money you actually breathe fire with a personality like that."

"You're an asshole."

"That's not a nice nickname."

"Neither is yours."

"Yes it is! Dragons are the best! They're my favorite animal, mythical or real. They're just so cool. And they're super badass."

"Don't sugarcoat it."

"I'm not! I swear~ Anyway, I called to remind you of our project meeting tomorrow at 8pm at the coffee shop."

"You left the room 2 minutes ago."

"So?"

"I remembered."

"Liar. You zoned out when I called you handsome."

"I DID NO-"

"It's fine. I thought it was cute. See you tomorrow, Dragon!" Chanyeol said happily.

Wu Fan could just hear the smile on his face.

With the click of the phone cutting off, Wu Fan put his phone in his pocket.

He put his arms in front of him on his editing station desk and let his head drop onto them.

This project was going to be quite interesting...