Chapter 2: iHire Some Help.
It was late. 2 A.M to be precise, but for the technical producer of one of the most watched web-shows on Earth, time didn't matter. Freddie Benson, the intelligent 21 year old tech producer for iCarly sat at his home workstation, trying to piece together an issue that had been plaguing iCarly on and off lately. Every light in his 4th floor apartment was turned off, save for the one lamp that illuminated his workspace. He told people that it saved electricity, but really, it was because he worked better like this. He needed to be comfortable. Deconstructing the past eight iCarly broadcasts and analysing them frame by frame wasn't the most luxurious thing to be doing. Ever since he, Carly, Sam and Gibby moved to California for college and bought their own studio, things have been getting hectic. iCarly was getting more attention, with a full site community, small time companies asking for promotions on their site, and not to mention a reputation as the best web-show in the world, they had almost become superstars. Which meant that the pressure was on to get the show perfect every week.
"We're going to have to step it up guys. We all made the decision to stick with iCarly, and we're not going to bail." he remembered Carly telling them. They all took part time college courses and rented apartments, Carly rooming with Sam, and Gibby with Freddie. Money wasn't a problem, their website was doing that for them, the money from ads, and donations giving them all a steady income.
Admittedly, the first few weeks of broadcasting went great, no hitches and no glitches. But a couple weeks back, Freddie started noticing some… images that came up randomly during the show. Nothing too irritating, or profane, just normal images, like a bright orange daisy, and the Statue of Liberty.
"Oh Freddie, they're probably just glitches." Carly's voice said in his head.
A hunch told him that they weren't just 'glitches'. Freddie was doing this too long for him to have any glitches.
"If it's not affecting the show, then don't worry about it nub." he recalled Sam saying.
He listened, and he tried to put it aside, being her boyfriend and all, but little by little, he felt like there was something behind it all.
"What's your secret?" he muttered, staring at one of the hidden images. It was a bird; a hummingbird to be precise. Freddie thought of every possible way to try and find out where it came from, running searches, extracting the image, and even staring intently at it till his eyes watered. Nothing useful came from any of it, the searches he did on 'random images' 'subliminal images' and 'encoded pictures' came back with nothing useful but redacted documents about a computer called "The Intersect". Isolating the images didn't work either, they corrupted themselves as soon as soon as he cut them out. Freddie was at a point where 'frustrated' didn't even begin to explain what he felt. In an attempt to calm down, he switched his monitor off and ran his fingers through mousy brown hair.
"Time for a break Freddie." he told himself.
Slowly, he got up out of his black leather computer chair, where he had been mentally tied to for the past 3 hours, and walked the short distance to his balcony. Before he stepped out into the chill of the L.A. night air, he caught a glimpse at his reflection in the glass of the sliding door. In a phrase, he was on the edge of becoming a ghost of his former self. Everything from his neck down was the picture of a healthy 21 year old young male, stocky arms, broad shoulders with a muscular chest. The plain white shirt he was wearing was just tight enough to wrap around his beefy frame. His face however, was a picture of a person ravaged by a mystery that gnawed at their consciousness. Dark bags surrounded his slim brown eyes, marks of the sleep he's been missing out on. Strands of his trimmed hair stuck out in every direction, like an insane scientist.
It's a good thing I took a break, I look horrible.
Something golden in the pale reflection of the glass caught his eye. Looking behind him, he saw Sam's body curled on his bed, her blonde locks running down her back, and across the pillows she lay upon. He picked up on the irony when he saw how peaceful she looked, asleep like that. Sam was considered the rebellious one of the iCarly crew, always mucking about, and providing them with fun bits to work with on the show. While everyone else frowned at her personality, Freddie grew to love her strong, stubborn exterior, even though that strong exterior often physically hurt him many times. As a couple, that never stopped, she still constantly attacked him, but it never hurt him significantly. Except for one time where she tackled him to the ground, and gave him a twisted ankle. But the make-up sex more than compensated for that.
Freddie stepped on his balcony, welcoming the refreshing chill of the wind, leaning on the cold balcony railing. It reminded him of home, back in Seattle. His home in Bushwell Plaza, apartment 8D, with the small fire escape he used to escape the people in his life, kept company by only the Seattle air and the night lights. What happened to it after he moved out, he wouldn't know. The apartment he had now was miles better than that place, the view wasn't spectacular, but it passed. His mom didn't pester him every ten minutes for some paranoid treatments, but she still tried to, living only a floor above him. Still, besides the mysterious images and his mom, his life was getting better. He and Sam were finally getting somewhere, iCarly was a running success, and college was a piece of cake.
"Freddie? Didn't you come to bed?" mused a slightly southern accent from behind him.
He turned his head to see Sam, in one of his dress shirts standing in the door way, a hand on the handle of the slider, and one bare foot outside on the cold concrete, the other barely touching the carpet.
"No, uh, I was trying to figure out those pictures again." admitted Freddie, taking her gently by the hand and pulling her close to his body.
"Sorry, I know you told me not to worry about it, but I couldn't…" he apologised whilst tucking her hair behind her ear.
"Nah, it's fine. I can't help that I fell in love with a big geek." she quipped, wrapping her hands around his neck.
"Yeah well, it's not like I wanted to love the girl that constantly degraded my self-esteem." he joked.
"Careful Benson, you know that it's a long way down to the pavement right?" threatened Sam, acting offended.
"Oho, really?" he said mockingly.
"Yeah, really. It'd be a shame if i just pushed you." she grinned.
"I'd like to see you try." he insisted, with a smile.
Firmly, she grabbed ahold of his shoulders, jerking him backwards a few times, like she was going to push him over the edge. Inside, he knew she wouldn't do it, but on the last push, his stomach tightened in fear.
"WHOA!" he shouted, eyes wide open. "Sam! What is wrong with you!"
Sam cackled, her body involuntarily quaking with laughter.
"AHAHA! You shoulda seen your mug!" she exclaimed. "It was all like, oooohhhh!" waving her hands in the air, impersonating Freddie.
"I'm serious! You almost dropped me!" he yelped.
"Aww baby, you knew I wouldn't drop you." reaching up to kiss him. "No one else knows how to make a Princess Puckett Special like you do!" referring to the sandwich that Freddie created for her. "Now come on! Come back to bed!" she pleaded.
"You know, you have your own apartment right? With Carly." he pointed out as he was led back to his own bed.
"What, don't you want to sleep with your girlfriend?" asked Sam, cheekily undoing the buttons on her shirt.
"...well, yeah. Yeah I really do." he admitted, leaping onto the bed to kiss her.
The next morning, Carly, Sam, Freddie, and Gibby all turned up at the iCarly office for a team meeting.
"All right, it's decided, Gibby will be drenched in oatmeal and soy-sauce." declared Carly.
"Gibbaaaaay." agreed Gibby.
"Oh, and while we're on the topic of Gibby," said Carly, turning to face him. "Do ya mind if you wear a shirt more often? I mean I know you loved to go shirtless when we were tweens, but walking into the studio and seeing you rub ketchup on your stomach is… kinda disturbing." suggested Carly.
"Hey! Ketchup is very moisturising!"
Unanimously, Sam, Freddie and Carly protested.
"No it's not!" which made Gibby fold his arms in irritation.
"Fine!"
"Moving on… umm, is there anything you guys wanna bring up?"
"Uh, yeah." announced Freddie. "Those pictures that have been popping up randomly during our broadcasts,"
"The ones we ALL told you to stop trying to decipher." Carly added.
"Yes. Those. Well, I'm not going to anymore." stated Freddie.
"Good. That's settled, no-"
"Doesn't mean I'm not going to stop caring. I'm hired people that kinda specialise in anti-hacking and all that stuff. Just so our broadcasts go smooth."
"Yeah, that seems fair. Who'd you hire?" Carly inquired.
"Carmichael Industries" answered Freddie.