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Derek studied the numbers, frowning. He’d known when he’d taken over as the manager for the campus radio station that it had been struggling, but he hadn’t realized how much. It helped that many of the DJs were students who worked for practical credit, but they still had bills to pay, including his paycheck. Sighing, Derek knew they needed to come up with something good, or they would lose their few advertisers.
A knock on the door brought Derek’s head up. He frowned when he spotted Stiles Stilinski, who worked the midnight shift and was one of their few paid DJs. “Isn’t it a little bit early for you?” Derek asked.
“I was hoping to catch you,” he said, twisting his fingers together in front of him.
“Are you quitting?” Derek asked, raising his eyebrows, unsure if he wanted that. Stiles could be annoying, but he did have a following and a standing advertiser thanks to his step-brother owning the pub next to campus.
“Do you need me to?” Stiles asked, gesturing to the papers in front of Derek. “You’ve been staring at that spreadsheet with your eyebrows drawn together for the past twenty minutes.
“You’ve been watching me for twenty minutes?” Derek asked, unbelieving.
Stiles’ eyes widened, and he shifted from foot to foot. “I mean…it’s just a figure of speech.”
Derek smirked and looked back down at the paper. “Was there a reason you decided to darken my doorstep?”
“I had an idea,” Stiles said. “Something to possibly fill another slot without costing too much and a way to bring in additional revenue for the station.”
Derek raised his eyebrows, but Stiles kept talking before he could ask any of the dozen questions that immediately came to mind. “Have you heard of Bridgewater ?”
Derek thought it sounded familiar, but he wasn’t sure if it was a place, a movie, a book, or something else. Hell, after hearing Stiles joking around with his friend Jackson, he wouldn’t be surprised to find out it was some kind of crazy sex position. Derek reached up to touch his ears, hoping they weren’t as hot as they felt. Finally, he shook his head when Stiles started to look concerned.
“It’s a podcast-”
“Stiles, we’re a radio station. How would having a podcast-”
“Let me finish,” Stiles interrupted and immediately froze and apologized. Derek smirked again and gestured for Stiles to continue before crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair to listen.
“Wow…okay.” Stiles seemed surprised by Derek’s willingness to listen, and Derek had to wonder what kind of stories went around the station about him. “So, Bridgewater is a serial podcast along the lines of the old radio programs. It’s got an ongoing mystery. Only one season is up, but the next one is coming soon, and it’s gonna be so cool, even if they are replacing Nathan Fillion. At least it’s with Alan Tudyk, who rocks. The woman who does the role of Anne Becker is just amazing.”
Derek raised his eyebrows when Stiles stopped talking. “And?” He made a mental note to check out the podcast; he was a big Alan Tudyk fan.
“And, I think we should do one. On the station.”
“How is that going to help us? Outside of the regular advertisers, if they are even interested in such a venture,” Derek commented, his mind trying to figure out what Stiles was planning.
“Well, we run it with regular advertisers on the station, but then we also put it up on sites that offer podcasts, opening us up to more advertiser revenue. It can be quite lucrative.” He rubbed a hand through his hair, face hopeful.
Derek leaned forward, folding his hands on the desk. “And, where would we get a script? A cast? The production team? All of those things cost money.”
“Well, I’m minoring in creative writing and taking a script writing course. My final is to write a script, but I also hoped to produce it for extra credit. I’ve got a friend, Isaac, in the drama department, and he could get some of his friends. My roommate, Danny, is a whiz at technical stuff and can use the experience for practical credit in one of his courses. They’d all be willing to work for free.”
Derek had to admit that Stiles seemed to have thought of everything, and without it costing anything extra, perhaps it would be worth a shot. “Alright, so tell me about this script.”
Six months later, Derek sat at his desk smiling down at the financial reports. Stiles’ idea for the serial podcast had been an unexpected hit and brought in enough money that Derek had been able to throw the cast and crew a party. Stiles had been so pleased he’d thrown his arms around Derek and planted a wet kiss on his cheek before gasping and disappearing into the crowd.
Derek heard a noise and looked up to see Stiles standing in the doorway. He had a strong sense of deja vu as he gestured for Stiles to enter the office and sit down. Stiles dropped into the chair across from the desk, his legs immediately going over the arm and his head hanging back over the other.
“So, is there a reason you’re here?” Derek asked when the silence had dragged on long enough he’d thought Stiles might have fallen asleep. “Did you come up with another serial idea? A second season?”
“Nah, I think we wrapped up the last one pretty well. Nowhere to go with that story,” Stiles said.
“But?
Stiles turned his head, smirking. “I have an idea for another one, but we might have to pay people this time.”
“We might be able to swing some compensation,” Derek said. “So, what’s the idea?”
Stiles let out a whoop and sat up, rubbing his hands together. “So, these two kids go into the woods, looking for a dead body.”