A/N i don't know if this will update regularly or not.picture perfect will continue to do so as it is finished and simply waiting to be posted so don't worry about that. to avoid confusion, the -she- is ginevra weasley. daren miles is draco malfoy.
oh, two disclaimers: 1 i don't own anything but the set up and 2 i know nothing about running sound and lights for a concert so those of you who do feel free to laugh at my stupidity
"Seventeen hours!" The flat was empty, she was speaking to herself. "Seventeen hours! Why in Merlin's name do I do this to myself?" She rubbed her eyes with one hand as she put the yogurt cup back on the table with the other.
She sighed and pushed away from the table. Slowly she stood and stumbled over to her bed. Ah! The blessings of living in a studio apartment, no doors or walls to run into. She ran her shin into the coffee table. Of course, there was always furniture.
Finally she collapsed onto the bed and was asleep within seconds.
She awoke to the phone ringing. She reached out, grabbed the offending electronic device off her bedside table, and answered without opening her eyes.
"Is someone dead?" Her voice was muffled by her pillow.
"No, but…"
"Then why are you calling?"
"Because I will be if you don't get down here. The show starts in two hours and half of the crew is missing."
"I just put in seventeen hours over at the club!"
"You're the only one who can make this show happen! I'm desperate!"
"You're paying me triple." She was still mumbling, but managed to sit up and began rubbing her eyes with her free hand.
"Anything." Relief was more than evident in the man's voice.
"Whatever. Is the manager there?" She stood and stumbled over to her closet, avoiding the coffee table but almost tripping on her rug.
"Yeah."
"Well, put him on!" There was a scuffling noise on the other end of the line and she took the opportunity to pull her shirt off. She hadn't even undressed before going to bed.
"Lincoln here."
"You the manager?"
"Yeah."
"Wonderful. Tell me, what can you do with the guys that did show up?" She was tugging at the legs of her jeans trying to take them off before she realized she hadn't unbuttoned them yet.
"We can set up, but the guy who knows how to work the board and the lights…"
"Isn't there, great, I got that. Describe the show to me." She had managed to get her pants off and was now trying to put a clean pair on. This was too complicated, why was it this complicated? Oh yeah! She reached for the hands free device and plugged it into the phone, putting the ear piece on.
"I'm sorry?"
"The effects, the stage set up, do you use fog? What kind of lights do use, stationary, lasers? Do you have a light show? Describe the show!" She couldn't believe this guy was a manager. She had slipped a sweater over her head before she realized the complications with the phone. For a second she tried to pull the phone up through the neck of the sweater before giving up and just shoving it in her pocket. She'd pull the cord out when she was done. When he continued to flounder she spoke again. "Put the artist on."
She pulled on her boots as she waited for the artist to be found. She paused as a strangely familiar voice came over the line.
"Yes?"
She shook her head and stood up, grabbing her keys, and went over to her cd collection. "Who am I talking to?"
"Daren Miles." He sounded annoyed. "Who am I talking to?"
"The girl that's about to save your career." She grabbed his latest cd off her shelf. "Describe the show to me." She left her flat and locked her door. By the time he had finished she was in her car and on her way to the venue. "Great. I'll be there in fifteen." She almost hung up before adding, "Oh, and you might want to think about getting a new manager. He can't get your tech to the venue and doesn't even know how to describe your show? Honestly." She hit her hip with her hand and her phone hung up. Why did she have to live so far away from the place? She jammed his cd into the stereo and tried to visualize what it would look like on stage.
Daren turned to the manager of the club he was playing and returned the phone. "She gave me advice!" He sounded disgusted.
Mac took the phone and chuckled. "That's what she does, mate. I'd take it."
"She's a tech!" Daren said the word as though it was obvious no one who was a tech would ever know enough to give him advise.
Mac reached over to his desk and grabbed an album. Tossing it to Daren he said, "She hasn't always been."
Daren looked down at the album in his hands. The cover had a picture of a red head leaning over a guitar, hair completely blocking her face. "Artist Unknown? Your tech was Artist Unknown?" Daren couldn't believe it. He was holding one of the most famous albums in the modern music industry in his hands. The woman had released one album that influenced the flow of music forever and then disappeared.
"Yep." Mac walked off to attend to business. Daren just stood there. His white blond hair hanging in his eyes unnoticed.
It wasn't long before a very disgruntled red head entered the club and shouted for espresso, half sugar, before locating Mac. Mac pointed her toward Daren and she stopped dead. She had noticed something about him in all of his pictures that struck a nerve with her, but in person she finally figured it out. She swallowed and made her way over to him.
"Jane West, I'll be your savior this evening." She shook his hand. "If you don't mind I'll be dealing with rather than that idiot you call a manager. I'll want you set up for a sound check in ten minutes." She moved off toward the stage without waiting for an answer.
She double checked all the wires and made her way back to the sound booth. They didn't even have the courtesy to turn their tech's laptop on for her. She grumbled as she hit the power button and began examining the settings on the board in front of her. She made a few adjustments, looked up and studied the stage for a moment, looked back down and made a few more. She then went to the laptop and began looking for the light programs. She couldn't find them. Well, this was just great. It did save her the time of linking that computer with the one that controlled the club's lights, though.
She sighed and sat back before standing and exiting the booth. Just outside she sipped her coffee and waited for the sound check. When they were ready she went back inside the booth and made sure the settings were correct before leaving and almost running toward the stage. "You! Where did your tech keep the light programs?"
Daren looked down at her like she was insane.
"Tell me he has at least three devices holding that information stored in different locations. A cd in the light cases, a usb device in the glove box, a floppy in the money bag, something, anything, just tell me you know where to find it!"
Daren looked at the band members who all shrugged and turned back to her, shrugging.
She strangled a scream and marched back to the sound booth. She was furiously typing on the computer when Daren poked his head in. "That's not going to be a problem, is it?"
"Oh, no, of course not." She was very sarcastic. "I'll just wave my magic wand and everything will be ok."
Daren blanched at her words. "It's on his computer, right?"
She spun in her chair and faced him. "If it were on his computer would I have asked you for the back up? Look," her face and tone softened just a bit, "I can improvise something but there isn't time to rehearse with it. It won't be what you're used to but it will have to do. Unless you want to do the show with nothing but spots?"
"I'm sure whatever you come up with will be fine." This was the first chance he had gotten to really look at her. For some reason she looked oddly familiar; there was something about her but he couldn't figure out what.
"Then by Merlin's beard leave me to it!" He quickly vanished but paused just outside the booth. Merlin's beard? Who used oaths like that except…
Finally she immerged from the booth and yawned. "Just gotta check the smoke machine." She was talking to herself. Daren almost smiled and followed behind her. "You know, most artists like to warm up before a show."
"I'm not most artists."
"Obviously." She bent down next to the machine and started pushing buttons. "How old is this?"
"Not a clue, why?"
"Has it been dropped recently?"
"Not a clue, why?" He was getting nervous.
"Because it's broken." She sat back on her heels. "Do you have yours with you?" She looked up at him.
"My what? That is our smoke machine. Don't you have one?"
"No we do not, and I'm not talking about a machine. Do you or do you not carry a little stick of wood everywhere you go? And do you or do you not have the bloody thing with you now? Merlin, are you that dense? Who else swears by a supposedly mythological wizard?"
He stared at her, once again, in shock. Slowly he reached into his pocket and pulled out a stick of wood and handed it to her. She took it, pointed it at the machine, mumbled something, and handed it back.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" She started pushing buttons again and heaved a sigh of relief as the machine started to hum.
"Where's yours?"
She stood and looked him in the eye. "You work seventeen hours on an apple, a crème cheese bagel, a bag of Doritos, half a sub sandwich, and eighteen cups of coffee, eat a cup of yogurt for dinner and sleep two hours before being called back into to work to save a show because their tech is AWOL and see if you remember your wand!" She rubbed her forehead and yawned before heading back to the sound booth. "Merlin" he heard her mutter under her breath.