It's Shayne, With a Y-N-E. [Shaymien]

Chapter 5- Daddy Needs His Juice

Sit
The
Fuck
Down

You guys are in for a story this time. Oh, you believed that Show with No Name episode when he explained that he "just started saying it"? Well, dear reader, you and I (hopefully) have it in common that we do not believe Shayne until evidence is stuffed under our noses, and we'd still have our doubts. This time, though, the evidence has worked against him. This time, the story is so much better than he lets on, and from what it seems, I don't think he even remembers.

So there I was, helping around with the equipment as I usually do when the video idea is mine. I may seem heartless, but I have two cats. If I was willing to put the crew through something I've come up with, I might as well make it easier for them to endure.

So again, there I was trying to figure out where one of our smaller cameras is, so we could have that one more crucial angle to really enhance my chins, you know. I was told by an editor that Shayne was the second in line to use it most, so if I wanted to ask someone it should be him. So far, it's the most logical ride of events that usually lead up to finding a camera.

Lucky for me, Shayne was cast to film in my particular video so I woke him up from his office nap with a phone call, and asked him to come down with the camera. Guess what I heard over the phone. "Yeah..about that. Let me explain when I get there."
Now, there's many tones to Shayne, but the one that gives away his embarrassment and slight regret is my favorite. This had to be good.

I waited for what seemed like forever until, finally, he scurried in, looking as little as a buff man could look. His eyes met me but I was quick to look like I hadn't seen him, just to give him the comfort of managing his presentation before he had to say anything. He pulled together and walked over, greeting me cheerfully and then bringing his hands together to get to the serious bit. Looking up at me seemed to make it easier to start since I couldn't help but urge him on with my questioning eyebrows.

"Here's the thing, and please don't tell Matt, but I can't find the camera." He shut me up without processing the expression on my face, which, honestly, was just pure amusement. I wanted him to keep fumbling to see where it would lead, and he really did deliver. "And don't even tell me you'll help me look for it, 'cause I don't know where to start."
You guys know how Shayne's voice gets when he's nervous, all quiet and weird-pitched like he's trying to decide what tone to use.

Genuine feelings. That's what I like to see the most from him, though, and very rarely are those feeling prominent, because he's good at hiding them. Well, except for when he's nervous. Then, he smells of fear and no matter what face he makes or what sounds he emits, the smell stays pungent in my scent-detectors. So I did the friendly thing of reminding him that Matt might end up throwing his body in a ditch. He didn't like that.

"Damien." He warned, but also seemed like he wanted to ask me for what I was going to offer. "Do you want me to help you find the camera?"
"Please." At least he was nice and quiet about it, probably because Matt was standing not too far behind him, but I agreed and we split into two different office rooms, scanning the places Shayne would usually inhabit or film himself.

It took a good half hour of strolling around the building until the inevitable happened and Matt called to ask where I was and what was going to happen. Shayne had joined me ten minutes prior and I couldn't ignore his pleading looks as the phone rang a little too long for comfort, with our producer's name plastered across the glowing screen. After a short moment of listening to Matt fuss about how long a time it took him to prepare the set up, I apologized and asked him to delay it and move on to another shoot, leaving this one for another day. I wasn't about to leave my man hanging, so I figured we had more time to find it now. That was until he got called in for a different shoot.