Chapter Text
“Why does Connie get to be the rapper guy?”
“It’s Kendrick Lamar you dumbass.”
“Okay. Well why does Connie get to be Kendrick Lamar?”
“Because he’s – well he’s fit to play him I guess.”
“What the fuck kind of reason is that? Why can’t I do the rapping?”
Marco sighed heavily and leaned himself onto the digital camera locked into the tripod he’d gotten so many years ago as a birthday/“congrats you’re going off to college to California where you can do basically whatever you want” from his old sister. The thing was a rickety mess and he really needed to get the thing replaced or at least oiled up a bit more, but the long, drawn out semesters of near-constant filming and a lot of research papers left him little time to spare to hang out with his friends let alone get that done. Besides, most of his money was spent saving up in his bank account and loan payments for the soundboards and supplies sitting across the walls of the far wall. So until he found the time to go out and test drive some stands, he was left with the three legs holding his expensive camera in place.
He’d somehow gotten the approval and go-ahead from the department head to draw out the paperwork to rent the empty studio lot all the way across town and the gear he’d need for the effects for his final thesis paper. The day was beautiful outside. The sunnyside of Southern California out in full force as he and his entourage of friends in three different vans pulled up to the location. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and he’d pulled back in regret for a second that filming had to stay within the space for the correct aesthetic he was hoping for but quickly moved on when he’d walked in.
It was perfect. The lighting was amazing inside the hollow space, the clacks of heels and sneakers on the cement floor echoed beautifully and he thanked every god there was that he remembered to bring his mic for some kind of b-roll.
Ya know. Just in case shit went downhill.
And of course, as per usual with the certain people he called his best friends, shit had started going downhill the moment he’d finally told the group of “actors” what exactly they’d be a part of. The characters they be assuming once the fancy cameras started rolling.
He’d ran around yelling and jumping for months; reminding everyone that this was just the visual representation of his film theory thesis paper and that nobody would see this video except him, his professor and possibly the department head and other higher-ups for the final evaluations. This was all strictly scholastic and even though he really wanted to see what the world would say about the outfits many of them would be squeezing into, he restrained himself.
Months of saving up his measly paychecks from working on campus were not about to be wasted on clothes and effects and editing help because he wanted to create the next viral video against his friends’ wishes. There were hundreds of his own dollar bills invested into this thing and we needed it to be a close of a replica as he could without any kind of copyrighting infringement. Throwing the work away to get taken down by YouTube wasn’t an appealing thought to Marco and he swallowed down that urge.
He’s save that for later.
Now if only he could get the boys to shut up for a second, he could get the ball rolling and the film rolling even faster.
Standing back up, and pulling his shoulders back, Marco let out a meek little cough to gather some kind of attention.
“It’s because Connie’s the only one of us that has some black in us, you walnut. Use your damn brain for once, Jaeger,” Jean sneered. His thin lips turned up in a snarky little smirk, a face that Marco knew very well that got Eren riled up every time he saw it. Eren was about ready to launch himself at the blonde but Marco quickly stepped in between Eren and his boyfriend before shit went even further south.
“Can we not for just today at least. We really need to get everything done today and I know it’s early but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a schedule to follow,” he said pointedly at both Eren and Jean. He expected the sighs from the two but when everyone groaned simultaneously and loudly, Marco had to chuckle to himself as he stepped away from Jean and kneeled down in front of his bag by the leg of the tripod. Reaching into the depths of what pretty much everyone in the room referred to as “the backpack”, Marco pulled out his notebook and after thumbing through it for a second, he cleared his throat. Earning the attention of anyone that had drifted away mentally for that split second.
“So you guys basically already know what today is about. We’ve had the meetings and what not going over the logistics on how we’re gonna do this but I’d like to do another run-through for those of us who are “slacking” or deviating from the plan.” He pointedly glanced at Jean, and watched as he squirmed and let his hands fidget and pull on the metal band around his finger for a second where he stood. Eren snickered behind his shoulder but before Marco could throw his stare over in his direction, Jean elbowed him right in the sternum and quietened him down. The other 15 or so people standing around, smiled quietly in different states of stance as they watched Marco talk.
He wasn’t always big on the public speaking part of things and considering he was focusing on theory for his concentrating, talking wasn’t supposed to be part of the deal. But the years, 6 to be exact, spent at productions sites for fellow students and different professors for the experience hours meant you eventually learned the ways of addressing your crew. Considering that crew and cast consisted of himself and 17 of his close or relatively-acquainted relations, Marco was way more comfortable to take things in charge, knowing that they were there to support him in this huge endeavor of the project.
This was going to be big and there wasn’t any room to miss the main point and everyone needed to be reminded constantly through the day without actually being told directly.
It was going to be an odd balance to maintain but the subject matter for his thesis would hopefully fall into place for everyone as they started filming.
“Right. So we’ll begin with getting the outfits distributed and yes, the boys will be wearing what’s in their assigned garment bags. Don’t worry. You all will look great. After that, while I set up the camera spots and get the scope settled out for the space, I’ll let you all get accustomed to the flow of the clothes with the choreography we went over individually over the past month. I hope none of you forgot anything and did your research.” He glanced up from the open notebook in his hands and breathed out heavily as he saw all eyes on him; the smiles on everyone’s faces reassuring him he was doing well and also making him nervous.
“Once everyone feels comfortable we’ll go down the list and film each scene linearly for the video but when time becomes a crunch, we'll just go along with whoever is ready. I chose – well kind of chose – most of you because of your previous skills with martial arts or dance and since many of you are friends from the theater and film department, it seemed sort of fitting to ask you all to help me. And I of course can’t thank you all enough for the support and help. I hope you feel the roles I assigned out fit well with your style and personality.” He paused for a second, his eyes lingering over his notes before letting out a shuddered breathe and continuing. “If at any point you feel uncomfortable, please let me know and Professor Shadis told me to inform you that if you would like to file a complaint please do so through the department office in Norris Theater. All complaints will be anonymous and will factor into my final evaluations but just letting you guys know that I won’t mind, of course, because it just means I have certain things to work on and-”
“Marco,” Armin interrupted, his voice squeaking a little that echoes a lot in the large space. His face reddened slightly but he smiled up at Marco. All of it so genuine it made him relax a bit. “We’re not going to complain. And we promise to bring up anything to you so relax, man. You got this.”
There was a general murmur of agreement from everyone and he let his fingers relax around the binding of his notebook. The cover of the appropriately-themed pages crinkled and torn at its edges.
“O-okay. Well I guess we’d better start getting the clothes distributed and we can get this thing started. I’m hoping to end before sunset, so around 8 P.M. A couple of us will have to go out and grab the pizzas for lunch but that’s about it. Are there any question?”
Everyone stood in place, glancing around at everyone and soaking in the few precious minutes left before all chaos and black skin-tight material broke out from their bags. The guilty things were sitting in the rack that was left here by the warehouse owners for the students and filmmakers that used the space for projects. Most of them weren’t excited about putting them on but they also didn’t argue about it when they realized the gravity of what Marco was trying to pull off.
They agreed, albeit half-heartedly, but they did and Marco was forever grateful for that.
Everyone dispersed after a second and a clap from Marco to get going. They made their way and roamed around the space, scoping out the floors and sturdy walls themselves before Marco even had the chance to breathe for the second. He needed to go through the props and settings that had been brought in for his assignment last weekend. Marco had come down when the things were first moved in, but a recheck of everything needed to be done before even starting the long process of recreating and setting people in the right places and catching the right angles.
It was going to be a lot of time management and math but Marco hadn’t spent years in the field, doing film runs and working as assistants for everyone he’s ever known for nothing.
His heels clicked on the sturdy cement floors of the large space, and with everyone murmuring quietly and zipping and unzipping their bags, it echoed loudly against the desks and breakaway glass panels stored along the edges of the warehouse. Hundreds of his hard-earned money set aside for his use after weeks of filtering through paperwork and licensing agreements. It was a hard process, but seeing everything slowly falling together as the sounds of everyone around grew louder left Marco’s heart racing as excitement ran through his veins.
The group grabbed garment bags and claimed the few curtained off sections behind where he’d set his camera to change into their things first while everyone else waited and talked with each other. The spandex was prone to keep them behind the curtains for a while and Marco had to giggle to himself as he heard Levi cursing up a storm as the sounds of latex stretching reached over the curtain’s edges.
It wasn’t too long before the arguments and disgruntled mumbling started back up between the certain few that couldn’t keep their mouths shut around the other.
“Okay I understand the Connie thing, but I still don’t get why Jean gets to be Taylor Swift,” Eren mumbled even as Jean sat just a foot away next to him on the floor where they’d spread their personal belongings. “Just because you were the lead last year doesn’t mean I’m incompetent at singing.” His voice fell to a deeper register as his hands fiddled around with the zipper of his galaxy backpack in his lap. “Marco only likes you for your whiny, high-pitched, airheadedness of a voice because no way is that anything like Tay’s voice.”
Makeup was being pasted on by a couple of the girls that knew what they were doing – predominantly Sasha, Mikasa, Petra and Hitch. Jean glared back at Eren but Marco watched again as the smirk grow on his lips as Eren stared straight ahead at where Armin was getting some of that black gunk spread over his eyelids. Eren winced at the dark amount of it but practically jumped out of his pants as Jean launched an arm around his shoulders and pulled him to chest.
Jean chuckled to himself loudly as Eren tried to wiggle and punch his way out of Jean’s grip but failed as Jean pulled the side of Eren’s head up to his mouth and practically shouted/sung into it.
“CAUSE, BABY, NOW WE GOT BAD BLOOD!”