The Stiles Show
Author: ereshai
Title: The Stiles Show
Rating: G
Pairing/s: implied pre-Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Adrian Harris, Danny Mahealani, Jackson Whittemore
Summary: Not everything is as it appears.
Warnings: AU
Word Count: 595
Prompt: #13 - Pretending
Author's Notes: Never try to post while half asleep. This should have gone up last night. Sorry. Inspired by The Truman Show.
The students milled around the classroom in small groups of two and three, heads bent over a shared sheet of paper. Several of them were clustered around the teacher’s desk, having a quiet discussion.
“He’s coming,” Jackson hissed from the door. Everyone scrambled to their desks. The teacher stood at the whiteboard and started writing a complex formula, glancing at his notes occasionally as he did so.
The door flew open and Stiles stumbled into the room.
“So good of you to join us, Stilinski,” Mr. Harris said.
“Yeah, um, there was a-“ Stiles began.
“Not interested. Take your seat and try to catch up.”
Stiles flung himself into his chair and pulled out his notebook.
Mr. Harris continued with the lesson, ignoring the not-so-subtle whispering going on between Stiles and Scott until it finally reached the point where he had to say something.
“Is there something you would like to share with the class, McCall, Stilinski? Or is this something that needs to be discussed after school, in detention?” Several students behind Scott and Stiles straightened up at that, shaking their heads frantically.
Scott’s eyes widened. “Um, no, Mr. Harris.”
“If you continue to disrupt my class, you will both become very familiar with your desks. Any questions?”
Scott and Stiles both shook their heads, and the rest of the hour proceeded without too much interruption. When class ended, everyone filed out. Danny and Jackson hung back.
“What were you thinking?” Danny asked as Jackson shut the door. “Detention’s not in the script for today.”
“Yeah, the pool thing is tonight.” Jackson added. “You fuck that up, the Director will fuck you up. Or worse, bring your part in the Hale fire subplot to an end. You’d be off the show, man.”
“I was staying in character. I’m the hardass teacher who isn’t swayed by Stiles’ charm. That means threatening him with detention.” Harris shoved his script into his bag.
“Like they care about that,” Danny said. “Who actually thinks I’m a fucking sophomore? They had to write in Lydia’s mathematical aptitude because she couldn’t fake being a ditz. At all.”
“If they write you off the Show, you won’t be back.” Jackson said. “The only reason they let Hale back in was because he was just a kid when his family tried to run everything off the rails. And they wrote in a crazy uncle who could kill him at any moment, just in case he tries anything.”
Harris nodded. “I know, I know. But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. If I’m stuck here much longer, I won’t be able to find work anywhere else. I’ll just be Adrian Harris, unsympathetic chemistry teacher. I don’t know anything about chemistry.”
“You gotta at least leave on a good note, or you really won’t get work anywhere. Why do you think Hale came crawling back? He was begging, Harris. Begging.”
Danny put an arm around Harris’ shoulder. “Look, you play the Show right, you’ll be set for life. You’ll have your pick of jobs. They’ll call you in for cameos during the college years. There’ll be a class reunion where Stiles thanks you for pushing him to succeed, or something. Just play your role.”
Harris shrugged away from Danny. “Fine. Fine. You two better get ready for your big game. I’ve got to prepare for tomorrow.”
“Later,” Jackson said. He grabbed Danny’s arm and they left the classroom. “I sure hope the Hale kid is comfortable exploring his sexuality. The Director will do anything for ratings, and I know Stiles was checking him out.”
Title: The Stiles Show
Rating: G
Pairing/s: implied pre-Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Adrian Harris, Danny Mahealani, Jackson Whittemore
Summary: Not everything is as it appears.
Warnings: AU
Word Count: 595
Prompt: #13 - Pretending
Author's Notes: Never try to post while half asleep. This should have gone up last night. Sorry. Inspired by The Truman Show.
The students milled around the classroom in small groups of two and three, heads bent over a shared sheet of paper. Several of them were clustered around the teacher’s desk, having a quiet discussion.
“He’s coming,” Jackson hissed from the door. Everyone scrambled to their desks. The teacher stood at the whiteboard and started writing a complex formula, glancing at his notes occasionally as he did so.
The door flew open and Stiles stumbled into the room.
“So good of you to join us, Stilinski,” Mr. Harris said.
“Yeah, um, there was a-“ Stiles began.
“Not interested. Take your seat and try to catch up.”
Stiles flung himself into his chair and pulled out his notebook.
Mr. Harris continued with the lesson, ignoring the not-so-subtle whispering going on between Stiles and Scott until it finally reached the point where he had to say something.
“Is there something you would like to share with the class, McCall, Stilinski? Or is this something that needs to be discussed after school, in detention?” Several students behind Scott and Stiles straightened up at that, shaking their heads frantically.
Scott’s eyes widened. “Um, no, Mr. Harris.”
“If you continue to disrupt my class, you will both become very familiar with your desks. Any questions?”
Scott and Stiles both shook their heads, and the rest of the hour proceeded without too much interruption. When class ended, everyone filed out. Danny and Jackson hung back.
“What were you thinking?” Danny asked as Jackson shut the door. “Detention’s not in the script for today.”
“Yeah, the pool thing is tonight.” Jackson added. “You fuck that up, the Director will fuck you up. Or worse, bring your part in the Hale fire subplot to an end. You’d be off the show, man.”
“I was staying in character. I’m the hardass teacher who isn’t swayed by Stiles’ charm. That means threatening him with detention.” Harris shoved his script into his bag.
“Like they care about that,” Danny said. “Who actually thinks I’m a fucking sophomore? They had to write in Lydia’s mathematical aptitude because she couldn’t fake being a ditz. At all.”
“If they write you off the Show, you won’t be back.” Jackson said. “The only reason they let Hale back in was because he was just a kid when his family tried to run everything off the rails. And they wrote in a crazy uncle who could kill him at any moment, just in case he tries anything.”
Harris nodded. “I know, I know. But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. If I’m stuck here much longer, I won’t be able to find work anywhere else. I’ll just be Adrian Harris, unsympathetic chemistry teacher. I don’t know anything about chemistry.”
“You gotta at least leave on a good note, or you really won’t get work anywhere. Why do you think Hale came crawling back? He was begging, Harris. Begging.”
Danny put an arm around Harris’ shoulder. “Look, you play the Show right, you’ll be set for life. You’ll have your pick of jobs. They’ll call you in for cameos during the college years. There’ll be a class reunion where Stiles thanks you for pushing him to succeed, or something. Just play your role.”
Harris shrugged away from Danny. “Fine. Fine. You two better get ready for your big game. I’ve got to prepare for tomorrow.”
“Later,” Jackson said. He grabbed Danny’s arm and they left the classroom. “I sure hope the Hale kid is comfortable exploring his sexuality. The Director will do anything for ratings, and I know Stiles was checking him out.”