Pan sighed and rolled her eyes. "Robert," she hissed, "put the camera down!" Her friend ignored her, continuing to record the goings on of the football game. Everyone was cheering, the atmosphere tense as the home team, the Wolverines, were currently losing. Pan was on the edge of her seat (even though she wasn't sitting in one) but kept getting distracted by her best friend trying to record the game. For a reason she still wasn't completely clear on. "Robert!" she insisted. "You're distracting me!"
"Sssh!" Robert replied, waving her insisting off. "I've nearly got my money shot!"
Daryl returned from the concession stand, a hot dog in his hand. "You getting this, Rob?" he asked.
"All of it," Robert answered.
Pan rolled her eyes. She could never understand her friend's fascination with technology. How they could get so dedicated and attached to things? Right now they were obsessed with getting the entirety of the football game on tape and the 'money shot' Robert was talking about was when the Wolverines pulled through and won. A large part of Pan knew it was a lost cause but she didn't want to tell her friend this. It was like kicking a puppy just for the fun.
"Come on!" Pan roared, joining the audience in their encouraging screams. Even though they were losing, the Wolverine fans always screamed for the players to keep going, to keep fighting, to never give up and never, ever back down. It was what she loved about the home team. Even when the ending was inevitable, they still fought hard.
Robert pointed the camera lens at her and she scowled, covering it with her hands. "Don't," she said, knowing that Robert knew that she didn't like being filmed. Which was a difficult thing for Robert to accept, since tech was basically his and Daryl's mistress. Yes, they shared a mistress. And sometimes it wasn't pretty. Especially when the newest apple or windows or itech thing came out. They didn't admit it, but it was always a competition to see who got the better version and who got it first.
"I want to get some footage of dedicated fans screaming for the team to win," Robert said, sounding like a five year old who'd been told he couldn't have a cookie. Pan laughed and rolled her eyes, jerking her thumb behind herself to point at the other roaring fans.
"Then film them," she said.
They turned back around to face the field. Pan jumped on the spot, getting excited as the Wolverines started catching up again. Even Daryl and Robert, people who weren't interested in sports at all, got slightly worked up the closer to the end of the final half came to a close. "Come on, come on, come on," Daryl muttered under his breath.
"Come on!" Pan screamed, not caring about being quiet. Her voice was lost in the mass of others, drowning in a sea of anxiety and excitement. "You can do it!"
They didn't do it. They lost. The moment the buzzer went, Pan deflated, trying to fight her disappointment at their loss. You could feel the air of the other disappointed fans, the air tense and thick with the lingering shouts of success that wouldn't be yelled. Not tonight anyway.
"No money shot," Robert sighed as they exited school grounds. He still had the camera on, pointing it at Daryl. "So Daryl, how are you feeling about the team's loss?"
"I'm not going to lie, pretty disappointed," Daryl sighed.
Pan tried not to snort. She was pretty sure Daryl wasn't disappointed in the team's loss, more of the loss of their movie making money shot. Robert turned to face Pan but she ducked under the lens' vision, running around to stand behind him like Daryl. Robert tried to follow her but she kept going round in circles until it turned into a game of run-around.
"Come on, Pan!" Robert exclaimed after this went on maybe a bit longer than it should have. "Just do this for the documentary!"
"I'll answer your question, just don't point that thing at me," Pan said.
Robert sighed heavily but pointed the camera ahead. Sure that he wasn't going to turn it on her again, Pan fell back in step beside him. "So," Robert said, "how do you feel about the team's loss, Pandora?"
Pan's eyes widened in horror at the use of her full name, her face a picture of scandalization. She thumped Robert, snickering when he yelped. "I know many people are probably disappointed with the Wolverine's loss," she gave Daryl a pointed look, grinning when he jokily sneered at her, "but I also know that the team will get through it. We may have lost the battle, but the war rages on."
Robert stared at her for a moment before blinking and shaking his head. He snapped the camera shut and grinned. "I think we've got ourselves a winning documentary. All we need is maybe a couple of interviews from some of the players and I'll be getting my A."
"That's why I didn't pick film class," Pan pointed out. "Too much work."
"No," Robert said, "you didn't pick film class because you can't comprehend the glory of modern technology like we tech geeks do."
"You told me I was a geek the other day," Pan frowned.
"You're a literature geek," Daryl clarified.
"What does that mean?"
Robert shrugged. "Where we'd get excited about the latest nikon being released, you'd get excited about the Hunger Instrument's latest book."
"The what?" Pan asked.
"One of your book series'," Daryl simplified.
"Ohhhh," Pan dragged out. "I get it." It was true, she was a sucker for YA books. Even though she was bodering legal adult, she always fell for books intended for the younger generation. She had a habit of getting attached to the characters and plot so severely she'd hit people if they insulted them. Once she even beat Robert with a stick for making fun of her favourite character Peeta . . .
Sometimes she wished she could have a life like the characters in her books. A life full of adventure and twists. She wanted to have excitement, to live on the edge, to have a love interest who adored her so much he would put everything on the line for her, and her for him. She wished her life wasn't boring.
"So, when are you two jinnies going to decide on a date to go to the shooting range?" Pan asked.
Robert winced. "Uh . . . You see, the thing is . . ."
"Robert has hoplophobia," Daryl finished for him.
"No I don't!" Robert snapped.
Pan was confused. "What's hoplophobia?" she asked.
"It's an intense fear of guns," Daryl explained. "I'm serious, everytime he sees someone get shot on t.v, he almost throws up."
"Shut up, Daryl," Robert hissed through clenched teeth. They arrived at the bar where the Wolverines were gathering to console themselves and lick their wounds. Even though they weren't legal age to drink yet, Pan knew Robert would want to get into the thick of it to get some shots of the team's reactions to the game.
The bar was alive with voices, the room full of life even though the team had lost. Trust the citizens of Spokane to keep the tempo up, even when the next town over beat them. They found a booth by a window, not really the most secluded of places but was the closest to get to with everyone crushed together so tightly.
"Hold up," Pan said as they sat down the booth. "I've known you since we were in diapers Robert and you never mentioned a fear of guns."
Robert laughed, a sound tinted with hysterics, and rubbed the back of his neck. "It never came up."
"Until you brought up the shooting range thing," Daryl said.
"We didn't have to go," Pan told them. "I mean, it was just an idea for something to do at the weekend. I wasn't going to jump off a cliff if you had have said no. Why didn't you just tell me?"
Robert was polishing the camera lens while she spoke, refusing to meet her gaze. She couldn't understand why he couldn't have just told her he had hoplophobia. It wasn't a big deal. Everyone had things they were scared of. Heck, Pan hated ladybirds. Their eyes freaked her out. Worst thing was, her mom never let her kill the insects because they were apparently something to do with the virgin Mary. Well, Pan wasn't religious and wished she could squash the little shits under her foot.
A part of her knew why Robert hadn't told her. He had this thing where he thought that if he was scared of something, it made him weak. She supposed it came from his father, the tough loving christian who beat his son around the head with the bible every time he did wrong. On many occasions Pan had wished that Robert could come and live with her, but he always refused the offer. It was weird, how he could still love his family so much, even when his father made him pray for forgiveness for hours on end just because he couldn't finish a meal and his mother just watched.
Pan sighed and forced a smile. "It doesn't matter, I'd probably knock my nut because of the kick back anyway," she joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Robert tried to fight it at first but a smile broke out across his face. "Yeah, you probably would," he said.
What followed this was a massive debate about which was more important in modern society: books or technology. Pan ultimately lost because it was two against one but that this point their order of fries had been put on the table so she could stuff her mouth with them and take her defeat with a gobfull of delicious greasy french fries.
As conversation switched to idle chit-chat, Robert occasionally recording the bar's atmosphere and the player's talking. Pan may not understand it, but his desperation to make every one of his films perfect was endearing. A cute little trait she wished she had in herself. Most of the time she just threw together a slap up project for school work and even then she'd only just manage to pass. She just really didn't have the energy to be obsessive about school work. It just didn't seem that important.
A girl entered and, as she passed them, took a handful of fries off their plate. Pan scowled and watched the girl as she went to the bar and started talking to Jed. She didn't know much about Jed other than this boy in her math class Matt's brother and had been away fighting in Iraq or something. The girl who started talking to him was the gorgeous type, the kind of girl who wouldn't spare people like them a second glance. To her, Pan and Robert and Daryl were just nerds. People she could steal fries from and who would maybe be able to invent something she could find useful in the future. People like her made Pan sick.
Robert and Daryl stared at the girl like she was the living embodiment of Aprohdite. Pan's eyebrows screwed up incredulously and she leaned across the table and smacked them both, hoping to knock some sense back into them. "You do realize a girl like her would just walk all over you two, right?" she asked.
"She can walk all over me any day," Daryl said, almost dozily. Robert pulled a face and Daryl cottoned on to what he just said. "Did I say that out loud?" he asked in horror.
Pan laughed. "Stick to the day job, Daryl," she said.
Then everything was dark.
Power cuts weren't uncommon in Spokane but they weren't frequent either. The entire bar went silent, after the intial panic of the cut shimmered down. As everyone piled out after finding out that it might take a while to get the power back up, Pan wondered what caused it. The weather wasn't bad so it couldn't have been that. Had someone snapped a power line? Was that even possible?
"Maybe it's a drill," Daryl suggested as they blindly made their way back to his house. "You know, to see how the town reacts to emergencies."
"Well, if that's true, I'm pretty sure we're going to fail," Robert said. He was probably referring to the pack of drunk college kids who declared as they left the bar, "Let's go to the park and get wasted!" despite the fact they were all told to go home.
"You're right," Pan said, holding her hands out infront of herself so she didn't bump into anything. Occasionally her hand would brush the fabric of Robert's jacket and the feeling of the famaliar material alone comforted her, confirming that her best friend was there and hadn't disappeared. "Those guys can go and get themselves arrested. We'll do the sensible thing and congregate in Daryl's house."
Whenever they stayed out late, they always stayed in the person's house who is closest. Which was, in this case, Daryl's. His dad was the mayor of Spokane and was always busy but he didn't mind if they stayed over as long as they didn't make much noise. Pan's parents weren't the type to say no to her and they had known Robert as much as she had and approved of Daryl so they knew there would be no funny business. As for Robert . . . well . . . his parents weren't really the social types.
Pan's hand brushed Robert's jacket again and she curled her fingers around the material. "We should start a conga line," she said. "Ba-da-da-da-da-da-DA!" She didn't a funny dance with her feet and nearly tripped up Daryl, who she hadn't realized had gotten closer to her in the darkness.
"Will Meth be okay without you there?" Robert asked as they reached Daryl's house and made their way up to the porch.
Meth was what they called Pan's younger brother. His full name was Epimetheus but try saying that nearly every day and you'd shorten it too. Their mom and dad were obsessed with Greek Mythology and had a soft spot for the story of Pandora's Box. They were so obsessed that they decided to call their baby girl Pandora and her brother Epimetheus. At first Pan thought that her parents hated her and that's why they gave her the most horrid name imaginable but she grew to realize that they did it because they loved the story and they loved their children just as much. But she perferred to be called Pan and her brother perferred to be called Meth.
"Meh, he's fifteen, I'm sure he can survive. Knowing him he'll have a girl over to snuggle with in the dark," Pan answered. Their parents were away on business but Pan had left Meth home alone overnight before and he had survived just fine. The only difference between now and then was that there was a power cut. As long as he could find the torch in the bottom drawer of the kitchen and didn't trip over his own shoelaces, he'd be just fine.
"Snuggle?" Robert asked, a tint of disbelief in his tone.
"Okay, you know I don't mean snuggle," Pan replied. They crossed the threshold into the house and Daryl quickly locked the door. Robert tried the lights but the power cut seemed to have affected the entire town, public housing and all.
"Daryl, is that you?" His father called from upstairs.
"Yeah dad, it's me!" Daryl called back up. "Robert and Pan are with me!"
"Okay! You kids don't stay up too long now!"
"We won't!" Pan replied. She wanted to act like she was kidding but she actually was tired. "I call the sofa!" They had gotten so used to their routine of staying in each other's houses that Daryl was able to sleep up in his room while Pan and Robert stayed in the living room on their own. There was always competition between Pan and Robert to see who got the couch first. Pan would like to say that she almost always won but it was always 50/50 and you had to choose the right time to claim it.
She ran into the living room, a bit too eagerly, and banged her hip on the rocking chair that she forgot sat by the couch. Feeling like she had been shot but pulling through, Pan dragged herself onto the couch and sighed, putting her hands behind her head and crossing her ankles, waiting for Robert to join her.
"Daryl said goodnight," Robert said as he felt his way into the room.
"Night Daryl!" Pan yelled, hoping he'd heard her. Robert clamoured into the armchair that sat by the head of the couch. Pan squinted, trying to see him through the dark, only able to see the outline of him when her eyes adjusted. He moved around incessantly, trying to get himself comfortable. "Will you settle down, you're making me nervous."
"I'm not as bad as you when you're in this chair," Robert replied. "All you do is whine."
"Do not!" Pan exclaimed.
"'This isn't fair Robert, I didn't know we could claim it outside the house,' 'Daryl's dad should get a better chair, this one is as stiff as a board,' 'Hey Rob, you know the way you're my best friend? Want to switch with me?'" Robert recited, even trying to mimick how she spoke.
Pan laughed at how he sounded nothing like her. "Shut up," she chuckled, knowing full well that he was right and that she did gripe and groan a bit too much when she had to sleep in the armchair, "and go to sleep."
"Whatever you say Pandora," Robert replied.
Pan rolled her eyes and thumped him. Robert laughed before finally getting comfortable and settling down. Pan sighed and let her eyes flutter closed, the serenity of the silent dark comforting her and lulling her into a peaceful sleep.
~xXx~
The house was shaking.
Pan's eyes shot open. It was day time, maybe early morning, and the house was rattling. Was it an earthquake? When she sat up on the couch, the rattling stopped and the house settled. Pan exhaled in relief. It wasn't an earthquake.
A second later, the house shook again.
When she stood up, the floor was vibrating beneath her feet. Scared out of her wits, Pan went to the armchair where Robert slept, shaking his shoulder desperately. "Rob, wake up," she whisper-hissed.
"What is it, Pan?" Robert muttered sleepily.
"I think we're having an earthquake!"
Robert's eyes opened just as quickly as hers had and he bolted upright in the chair. The house had settled again but the shaking returned moments later. Pan could hear something in the distance, something she couldn't make out. It was distant but sounded like it was getting closer.
"That's not an earthquake," Robert murmured.
"Then what is it?!" Pan exclaimed.
Daryl came flying down the stairs, fully dressed and looking panicked. "Guys, have you looked outside?" he asked, his breathing raspy and his voice terrified.
"No," Pan said, her heart pounding. "What's outside?"
Daryl didn't answer, instead he ran the nearest window and looked out. Pan and Robert followed, peering out onto the street. Pan's blood was pumping in her ears and she feared that Daryl and Robert could hear her heart as it battered itself in her ribcage.
When she realized what was happening, her heart stopped completely and the world seemed to go on pause. She didn't hear the screaming or crying, see the explosions or debris, it was like the picture out of one of her books, fictional, not real.
"Oh my god," Robert whispered, inaudibly.
There were bombs falling from the sky.
They were being invaded.
A/N: This little plot bunny has been brewing within me for a while now. I know it's REALLY different from what I usually write but sometimes difference is good, healthy for the mind :)
Please R&R on your thoughts and whether I should continue or not?