Brian doesn't even turn around when Gerard approaches the door.
Brian's office is made of glass, and the door is always open. It's supposed to foster "communication" in the newsroom, according to the management consultant they brought it three months ago, when they still thought the paper was worth saving. Brian's solution had been to plant his laptop on the credenza and turn his back, pretending that the rest of them didn't exist.
Gerard knows that Brian can see him -- he's got a creepy little round mirror that he pried out of a cheap compact duct-taped to the wall behind him - but that doesn't necessarily mean he's going to talk to Gerard.
"I don't want to hear it, Way," he says finally, fingers still flying over the keys. Brian had been the best copy editor on the rim before the forced him to take over the City Desk, and he still preferred raw copy to real people. Gerard figures he's going over 2-star changes already. When he does the budgets, there's usually a bottle of Tums beside him. "Figure out a way to make it work."
Gerard sighs. He and Brian came to the City Desk at the same time, after the new management decided that they could get their Arts criticism from the AP and that copy editors were "an underutilized resource," but Gerard didn't even have an invisible office to hide in.
He wants to quit, but Mikey had two more years at Rutgers and his dad's emphysema was so bad now that he couldn't work fulltime at the garage, so he's been attending city council meetings and filing police blotters and dutifully sucking it up instead. At least until today. And to think that Gerard used to love his job.
"I can't work with him, Brian. I can't even find him," Gerard protests. He knows it will do him no good, but for his own self-respect he's got to give it a try. There's no way he can do this.
Brian actually stops typing and half-turns in his seat to glare at Gerard.
"That's because he's a beat reporter," he explains with the exaggerated patience someone else might use while talking to a third grader. Gerard's pretty sure that Brian actually snacks on grade-schoolers, though, so he's not sure where Brian perfected the singsong contempt in his voice. "So he's out covering his beat. You know -- pounding the pavement, talking to people, filing stories. LIKE A REPORTER."
That's the dumbest thing that Gerard has ever heard. They have the Internet now. Stories practically come to right to the newsroom, where it's air-conditioned (sort of) and, well, not quiet, exactly, but where he can access Oh No They Didn't and where, most importantly, he hardly ever has to talk to anyone else.
"I cover my beat," Gerard protests, but even he knows it's sort of ridiculous. He didn't sign on to be a beat reporter, and he's no good at it. Which is why this is the most ridiculous assignment in history.
Brian raises an eyebrow at him, but when he talks, his voice is almost gentle.
"Look, Gee, I know that this isn't where you want to be. I know you loved Style & Arts, and you were the best damn Features writer we had. But this is a big story -- it'll probably be a series -- and we a need a team to cover it. I figured with your writing and Bob's reporting, it'll be a slam dunk. Plus, you can write long. I know how you Features guys love to write long."
Gerard shifts his weight against the doorframe. He appreciates that Brian is doing his best to make this job suck less for them all, but he's pretty sure that he can't work with Bob Bryar. Bob, as far as Gerard can tell from the few times he's seen him face-to-face, hates his guts.
Newspaper AU, Part II -- I Write Long, Too!overnighterApril 26 2009, 02:02:10 UTC
"Bob hate me," he says, aware that he sounds like a snack-sized whiny toddler right about now. Brian rolls his eyes and returns to his laptop.
"He doesn't hate you. He's just -- confused -- by you. Anyway, I called him twenty minutes ago. He's going to meet you in front of Red's as soon as you get your ass down there. Suck it up, Way, and try not to fuck this up too badly, okay?"
Gerard sighs again in defeat and turns away from the door. He knows he doesn't fit in on the City Desk. These guys are hardcore reporters -- city natives, mostly. A few of them don't even have college degrees. They're the ones Gerard spent all of his school career avoiding, and Bob Bryar is the cock of their walk.
"Way! Gerard!"
He hears Brian call his name as he's shrugging on his black trench coat and searching through the piles of paper on his desk for a pen. There's a murmur from the few occupied desks around him as Brian actually leaves his office and crosses to Gerard's desk, which is pushed into a corner behind an anemic potted plant. He hands over a fresh reporter's notepad and black ballpoint pen and his makes an expression that Gerard thinks might be called a smile on someone less terrifying.
"Take a pad. Don't use the iPhone, for Christ's sake. He'll respect you once he sees what you can do. Just -- try to act like a human being for once, okay?"
Gerard takes them and stuffs them in his coat pocket, trying not to look anxious. It's possibly the worst pep talk he's ever heard, but he feels a little better nonetheless.
Re: Newspaper AU, Part II -- I Write Long, Too!secrethappinessApril 26 2009, 02:13:40 UTC
:DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
I know you said you were only writing snippets but you've got me wanting more. Does Bob hate because he wants Gerard? Will those two wacky kids get their story written?!
Re: Newspaper AU, Part II -- I Write Long, Too!overnighterApril 26 2009, 03:08:39 UTC
Hee! I sort of want to know what happens now, too.
Bob is totes a man of the streets, a hustling crime reporter, and he thinks Gerard doesn't like the rest of them because he's weird and snobby and used to be an art critic. But really, Gerard's just shy and awkward, and he misses his old job!
They are, of course, immediately attracted to each other, once Bob realizes that Gerard is funny and from New Jersey and not embarrassed by it, and Has Opinions on comic books and horror movies, in addition to art and things. And Gerard, once he gets over being afraid of Bob, thinks Bob is sly and funny and talented.
And once they find out that Mikey's roommate Frank and Bob's BF Ray are friends, they start hanging out outside of work, of course, in between working together on their investigative story about -- something combining art and theft? Art theft! -- and hanging out, they fall in love.
Brian's office is made of glass, and the door is always open. It's supposed to foster "communication" in the newsroom, according to the management consultant they brought it three months ago, when they still thought the paper was worth saving. Brian's solution had been to plant his laptop on the credenza and turn his back, pretending that the rest of them didn't exist.
Gerard knows that Brian can see him -- he's got a creepy little round mirror that he pried out of a cheap compact duct-taped to the wall behind him - but that doesn't necessarily mean he's going to talk to Gerard.
"I don't want to hear it, Way," he says finally, fingers still flying over the keys. Brian had been the best copy editor on the rim before the forced him to take over the City Desk, and he still preferred raw copy to real people. Gerard figures he's going over 2-star changes already. When he does the budgets, there's usually a bottle of Tums beside him. "Figure out a way to make it work."
Gerard sighs. He and Brian came to the City Desk at the same time, after the new management decided that they could get their Arts criticism from the AP and that copy editors were "an underutilized resource," but Gerard didn't even have an invisible office to hide in.
He wants to quit, but Mikey had two more years at Rutgers and his dad's emphysema was so bad now that he couldn't work fulltime at the garage, so he's been attending city council meetings and filing police blotters and dutifully sucking it up instead. At least until today. And to think that Gerard used to love his job.
"I can't work with him, Brian. I can't even find him," Gerard protests. He knows it will do him no good, but for his own self-respect he's got to give it a try. There's no way he can do this.
Brian actually stops typing and half-turns in his seat to glare at Gerard.
"That's because he's a beat reporter," he explains with the exaggerated patience someone else might use while talking to a third grader. Gerard's pretty sure that Brian actually snacks on grade-schoolers, though, so he's not sure where Brian perfected the singsong contempt in his voice. "So he's out covering his beat. You know -- pounding the pavement, talking to people, filing stories. LIKE A REPORTER."
That's the dumbest thing that Gerard has ever heard. They have the Internet now. Stories practically come to right to the newsroom, where it's air-conditioned (sort of) and, well, not quiet, exactly, but where he can access Oh No They Didn't and where, most importantly, he hardly ever has to talk to anyone else.
"I cover my beat," Gerard protests, but even he knows it's sort of ridiculous. He didn't sign on to be a beat reporter, and he's no good at it. Which is why this is the most ridiculous assignment in history.
Brian raises an eyebrow at him, but when he talks, his voice is almost gentle.
"Look, Gee, I know that this isn't where you want to be. I know you loved Style & Arts, and you were the best damn Features writer we had. But this is a big story -- it'll probably be a series -- and we a need a team to cover it. I figured with your writing and Bob's reporting, it'll be a slam dunk. Plus, you can write long. I know how you Features guys love to write long."
Gerard shifts his weight against the doorframe. He appreciates that Brian is doing his best to make this job suck less for them all, but he's pretty sure that he can't work with Bob Bryar. Bob, as far as Gerard can tell from the few times he's seen him face-to-face, hates his guts.
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"He doesn't hate you. He's just -- confused -- by you. Anyway, I called him twenty minutes ago. He's going to meet you in front of Red's as soon as you get your ass down there. Suck it up, Way, and try not to fuck this up too badly, okay?"
Gerard sighs again in defeat and turns away from the door. He knows he doesn't fit in on the City Desk. These guys are hardcore reporters -- city natives, mostly. A few of them don't even have college degrees. They're the ones Gerard spent all of his school career avoiding, and Bob Bryar is the cock of their walk.
"Way! Gerard!"
He hears Brian call his name as he's shrugging on his black trench coat and searching through the piles of paper on his desk for a pen. There's a murmur from the few occupied desks around him as Brian actually leaves his office and crosses to Gerard's desk, which is pushed into a corner behind an anemic potted plant. He hands over a fresh reporter's notepad and black ballpoint pen and his makes an expression that Gerard thinks might be called a smile on someone less terrifying.
"Take a pad. Don't use the iPhone, for Christ's sake. He'll respect you once he sees what you can do. Just -- try to act like a human being for once, okay?"
Gerard takes them and stuffs them in his coat pocket, trying not to look anxious. It's possibly the worst pep talk he's ever heard, but he feels a little better nonetheless.
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I know you said you were only writing snippets but you've got me wanting more. Does Bob hate because he wants Gerard? Will those two wacky kids get their story written?!
Reply
Bob is totes a man of the streets, a hustling crime reporter, and he thinks Gerard doesn't like the rest of them because he's weird and snobby and used to be an art critic. But really, Gerard's just shy and awkward, and he misses his old job!
They are, of course, immediately attracted to each other, once Bob realizes that Gerard is funny and from New Jersey and not embarrassed by it, and Has Opinions on comic books and horror movies, in addition to art and things. And Gerard, once he gets over being afraid of Bob, thinks Bob is sly and funny and talented.
And once they find out that Mikey's roommate Frank and Bob's BF Ray are friends, they start hanging out outside of work, of course, in between working together on their investigative story about -- something combining art and theft? Art theft! -- and hanging out, they fall in love.
Or something like that. :)
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