“Is it filming? I think it’s filming?”
Scattered giggles bubble softly before the sound of a chair scraping against cheap tile punctuates the air. A hush instantly falls over the room, and a woman begins to speak.
“If someone had told her last week that she would wake up one morning and find herself inexplicably attracted to Tina Cohen-Chang, she wouldn’t have believed them.”
The camera shakily cuts from black to a girl sitting alone in a choir room. She is gazing off into the distance with a hand pressed to her cheek and a lazy smile on her face. “Gosh, Tina is so hot,” she murmurs to herself. “I don’t know how I didn’t notice sooner.” She pauses for a moment, before adding, “Not Asperger’s.”
Suddenly, the door to the choir room flies open and a second woman comes stalking in. She flips her dark, blue-tipped hair away from her face as she stops to face the first woman. “Sugar? What are you doing here in the middle of the day when everyone else is conveniently in class and therefore not in this particular choir room?”
Sugar stares back. “I could ask you the same question, Tina.”
“I have a free period for fifth. I normally come here to practice my singing.”
“Wrong character,” Sugar hisses.
“I mean, practice my um…not…talking.”
Sugar barely prevents the corners of her mouth from sneaking upwards. “I see.” She gets up and slowly stalks towards the girl in the middle of the room. “Well, if you must know, Tina, I was thinking.”
“Thinking? You can do that?” Tina says with faux amazement lacing her voice.
“Yes. Thinking.” Sugar stops when she directly in front of Tina. She towers slightly above her and is definitely invading her personal space. “Thinking about you, which I can’t seem to stop doing.”
“I’m glad you say that,” Tina replies silkily. She presses her body fully into Sugar’s. “God, Sugar. The way you don’t talk really turns me on. Normally I’m not talking either because I’m thinking of all the things I want to do to you.”
“Right now, I’m thinking that I want to do you against this piano,” Sugar says as she puts tilts Tina’s face towards her own with her index finger. “Not Asperger’s.”
Tina’s eyes flutter shut. She leans into Sugar, feeling a burning passion with the fiery strength of a thousand white-hot suns swarm around them. Their lips are about to meet but—
“What the flying fuck?”
The camera pans to a very angry, very homosexual, very yellow-hat-wearing man storming through the door. The brunette mumbles something that distinctly looks like “oh shit” while the darker-haired woman greets him with a too-sunny-to-be-real “hello, Ryan!”
Ryan Murphy is not impressed. “What are you doing in here? You’re supposed to be on lunch break.” He looks around before staring directly into the most important part of the room. “What are you doing with a camera?”
Since Lea doesn’t have quite the ill history as Dianna does the Ryan, she decides to take the reins. “Filming,” she replies smoothly. “You see, when one has a camera, one normally uses it to film things. I honestly can’t think of another use for one, unless you were to use it as a paperweight of some sort, but that would just be ridiculous.”
Ryan Murphy is still not impressed. “And what is he doing here?”
“Can’t have a camera without a cameraman!” Lea says jovially as Cory turns the camera back to his grinning face. “I just wanted to see them make out,” he whispers conspiratorially before turning the camera back around to face the impending smack-down.
“Girls, girls, girls,” Ryan sighs, pressing his hand against his eyes. “What have I told you about these little projects of yours?”
“No reenacting Faberry fanfiction with studio equipment,” Lea and Dianna say in a practiced, simultaneous monotone. “But Ryan, this is completely different,” Dianna quickly adds.
“This is not scripted filming, Dianna. This is not something that I approved of.” Ryan Murphy pinches the bridge of his nose before looking back to glare, yet again, at his two actresses. “How in the world is this not reenacted fanfiction?”
“That contract we signed talks about Quinn and Rachel, but you never said anything about Sugar and Tina.”
Ryan Murphy looks at them, complete disbelief written on his face. “You know what? Fine. FINE. You can get off free this time,” he snarls, “but there are going to be no more loop-holes from here on out.” Lea and Dianna look at each other glumly. “You can both expect a new contract in your trailers later tonight.”
“You can probably save yourself a trip, actually. I’m going to be in Dianna’s trailer making sweet, sweet—“
“LA LA LA LA LA,” Ryan scream-sings in a manner that is disastrously off-key for someone that created a television show about music. He stuffs his fingers in his ears and speed-walks out of the room in a completely mature fashion. He manages to only trip over three chairs in his flight.
“—cookies,” Lea finishes with a grin. “Wow, what kind of man doesn’t like cookies? He’s worse than I thought, and that’s saying something.”
Dianna cocks an eyebrow in her typical Dianna fashion. “You sure you can handle my cookies?”
“I’ve handled them before and I can handle them again.” Lea is pressing into Dianna again, much like how she was before their interruption. Suddenly, she turns to face the camera. “Cory, please leave. Dianna and I are going to make sweet, sweet cookies sooner rather than later.”
“Why do I have to leave? I like cookies.”
The two stare at him.
“…oh. Those kinds of cookies.” He pauses, then adds, “I like those kinds of cookies, too.”
“Fine, fine.” The camera turns and bobs out of the room. Before it is lowered and completely shut off, Cory whines, “I can’t believe they’re making me read fanfiction like normal people.”