Television Romance

A Rich Suprise

INT. BULLPEN - DAY

On Wednesday the writer and cast filed out of the table read with relative optimism. It seemed like it was going to be a good show. The host was pretty impressive, with exception of her Romanian accent, which bordered on Scottish, and there were some promising sketches. Vian was pretty sure that Jerry, Juliet, and Bill's "Soccer Date" sketch was getting on the setlist, which was exciting because she had had a small hand in it's creation. Progress from last week, at any rate.

"Hey, Vian," an intern with long artificially orange hair asked, "There's someone waiting for you in your room." Vian wondered in spite of herself whether that was the intern that inspired this morning's fight.

"Who?"

"I don't know."

"Thanks," Vian said, bordering on sarcasm.

"Diggin' the cottagecore," the intern told Juliet, who was now dressed in a white milkmaid top and a pale green skirt. Juliet, caught off guard, shot back a quick but confused thanks.

"Jesus Christ, it's like the week of interns," Juliet commented as the orange-haired girl walked away.

"How do you keep track of all of them?" Vian asked.

"We don't. Sam is the only one who knows all their names at any given point. They only stay here one or two weeks," Jerry said as they turned into their familiar hallway. He always brought a tiny notebook and a pen to the table read and now he tucked the notebook into the pocket of his jeans.

"Everyone's been talking about the intern that was fighting Michael, but I don't think I've heard a single person say his name," Vian said.

"Aditya," Bill supplied. Everyone else turned to face him in surprise.

"Well aren't you just full of information this week," Juliet remarked with a cheeky smile.

"I know things!" Bill said indignantly and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Do I look cottagecore to you?" Juliet asked Bill.

"Jules, I'm beginning to suspect the reason you're surprised when I know things is because you only ever ask me questions about stuff I have no chance of knowing."

"I'm wearing black boots. How is that cottagecore?" Clearly, Juliet was having her own conversation.

"I feel bad, though, when I don't know their name," Vian said.

"To be fair, we see them once a day when they bring coffee," Jerry said. He flipped his pen through his fingers.

Vian had almost forgotten about the message just delivered to her when she pushed open the door to Five and saw a familiar face.

"Vian."

"Rich." Her fiancé was standing in the middle of the room in a suit, briefcase in hand.

"I wanted to surprise you."

"You did." Vian suddenly remembered this was not her room alone. Sure enough, Hugo was sitting at his computer, wordless.

"I wish you texted. I'm a little busy," Vian said. She felt awkward having this conversation in front of Hugo. She felt even more awkward just being in front of Richard like this, coffee-stained t-shirt and her wavy hair resembling a rat's nest. She should have put it in a bun, but she hated her hair up.

"They said you'd have a break when the meeting was done," Richard said, drumming his fingers on the briefcase. It was nice leather, expensive. His father had got it for him when he passed the bar. That, along with the pristine suit and the coiffed hair really provided stark contrast between them.