Nice Work Dork: Duncan x Male OC

Zane's Audition

A camera was set on a shelf angled to catch the short boy sitting on the floor leaning back against his bed in a small room. He had the blackout curtain on his window pulled back to let some natural light in for the recording since he hated the look of his yellow-tinted overhead light. The window to his left, the light being blocked by his long black hair covering his left eye whilst the rest of his hair was pulled into a ponytail. He was pale as if he didn't go outside often and his freckles were very visible.

"The hell are you supposed to say for this?" he mumbled to himself. Blue eyes looking down at the audition page of the show's website on his phone for guidance. State your name, age, interests, and reason to be on the show. Easy enough Zane believed.

"So uh, I'm Zane, 17, and uh," he started, "I like drawing, drama, I really like drama like when my mom yells at my older brother I watch cause it's so funny watching my 5'4 mother yelling at a 6ft something Shrek lookalike," the boy rambles. "As to why I want to be on the show, um, to get away from my family. I love them, but I'm about to hit them with a bus if I spend another day with these people," he sighed. "I don't really care for the money, I just want to get a vacation, I don't care how I just want it," he said looking into the purple-green camera lens.

Zane sat there thinking of another reason, one to ensure that out of the thousands of auditions, he'd get picked. "Hell, I'd go just to stir up the drama. I don't get along with people, people don't like me. Fighting is inevitable, and fighting is good for views. I'm also clumsy so you might get good footage of me falling or something," he said shrugging.

"But if I do get selected, I would need special requirements. Which would make other contestants angry, and that'll cause some drama," he stated as he ended his tape to submit.

He uploaded the footage to his laptop and sent it to the website. The boy closed his computer and set it on the bed behind him with a sigh. Closing his eyes and resting his head on the wooden frame of his bed he relaxed, "Five more minutes," he mumbled as he heard car doors closing outside. His family was back from dinner, he stayed behind because he didn't like going out. He had enjoyed the hour he had while it lasted, and now back to trying to grasp at his sanity with these people annoying him.

Zane's face close up and detailed.

Everyday outfit.

His sleepwear. That's a scar on his arm, based on my scar on my arm.

Swimwear. All handles are for my Instagram. All art by me, and it sucks cause I just started drawing digitally on my cracked phone screen.

[Meeting with the producers: "So let's be clear, all you're asking for are special meals and to not have to participate in swimming challenges?" a woman asked the short male sitting at the end of the table reading the contract over before he decides to sign it. "Yeah," he replied. "Why?" another voice asked the boy. "Because I don't know how to swim. I'm also allergic to tomatoes, which is very common in food," he started, "And I think you'd rather spend the shows money on a few bags of chips and microwavable frozen meals than on hundreds of dollars on EpiPens and Benadryl, does that make sense for you?" The producers agreed. A special contract just for Zane was signed, he was getting his vacation from his family, and the producers were getting the drama they want. Win-win.]