Big Time Assistant | James Diamond

2.13; reality

The last time someone knocked on Emily's door before 8 on a Saturday, she pegged an apple at Logan's head. 

She wasn't not a morning person. But keeping up with the boys of 2J was exhausting and sleep became a quick necessity ever since she met them. 

Emily swung her door open, ready to yell at whoever thought it was okay to wake her up, without coffee, this early when she was supposed to be sleeping in. It was Griffin. 

"Ms. Moore!" He cheered, smiling. 

"What the heck, Griffin?" She snapped, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 

"Get dressed. Be in the band's apartment in ten minutes," he told her, walking off. The girl leaned out the door, seeing him leave, without any word of explanation. 

The girl shook her head in frustration as she tugged a sweatshirt over her head, sandals, and called it a day. 

The floor below was quiet. Because it was 8 on a Saturday. 

There was a smidge of noise coming from the crib. Emily pushed the door open, letting herself in to see the guys backs to her, all in their underwear and t-shirts. There was a large screen set up, with lights shining from the otherside. 

The boys turned their heads hearing someone come in. Logan shrunk back, embarrassed, Carlos sighed, relieved it was just his friend, and James flashed a bright smile while smirking at her PJ shorts. 

"Cute shorts," he smirked. 

"I could say the same to each of you," she retorted walking in to see Kendall sitting on the stool on the other side of the drop, also not dressed, with lights and cameras pointed at him. 

"Well, I'm not crazy about doing a reality show right now, because technically, I'm in my underwear!" Kendall snapped at Griffin and the producers huddled together behind the cameras.

"Reality show?" Emily questioned, looking to Logan who sighed, scrunching his arms together uncomfortably. 

"He's got a point," Carlos chimed in. "Can we get some clothes on?"

"I'm fine," James shrugged. "I can take my shirt off if you want," he offered, beginning to pull the tank up. Emily cleared her throat, shifting her weight, behind the guys, not objecting to James like his friends were. 

"Please don't," Logan said, pulling the shirt back down. "As for the rest of us, we feel a little exposed."

"Which is why you're a reality show," Griffin told him. "Exposure. Because more exposure for Big Time Rush equals more record sales which equals more ham for daddy," Griffin grinned at the thought of making more money. 

"Ham for daddy is important," James told his friends.

"Now, say hello to the hottest reality show producer in Hollywood, Snake Timmons."

Snake Timmons was a suede guy. His jacket collar popped with a printed button up and ascot, not to mention to gelled back hair and dark sunglasses indoors. 

"Boys, this is going to be my greatest reality show yet," he told them. "Juicier than Angry Tiger Island, more emotional than the Banana Whisperer, and more thrilling than Rickshaw Cops!"

"I've never heard of any of those," Emily commented, giving the man an unsure look. His eyes snapped to the only girl.

"And you are?"

"Not thrilled about being woken up at 8 for a stupid reality show," she replied. Griffin rolled his eyes, leaned over to Snake and whispered in his ear. Snake nodded, understandingly.