So, we're here to shoot a scene for . . . ?" Ryan forgets mid-sentence what he's supposed to say. ADD again.
"A 'Dear Ryan'?" Derrick offers from the behind the camera. He's been asked to shoot BTS. Again.
"A 'Dear Ryan'!" Ryan claps loudly, making Greg jump.
"Du-ude," he whines.
It's been a few days since their bowling trip—the showdown that Ryan won, just for the record—and since they saw the pretty GTSOP.
"It's a cool day here," Ryan tells the camera. "Only about a hundred degrees—"
"That's cool?" Derrick interrupts.
"—So cool. Sean's probably sweating like a pig."
"And you?"
Ryan raises his arm. His shirt is white (thankfully), so there're no visible sweat stains. Sean jumps into the shot in his gray shirt with his arm raised. Needless to say, it's not a pleasant sight.
"Dude, you're, like, SweatsALot McGee." Greg dances his way into the shot, and lifts his shirt up so the world can once again bask in his almost shirtless beauty.
"Oh, dude—" Ryan and the rest of the guys end up laughing for the next few minutes.
"Let's just film BTS and not do any actual work today," Will suggests.
"Isn't BTS supposed to show what you're working on and how you're working on it?" Derrick asks from behind the camera.
"Don't you sass me, bro." Will wiggles a finger at the camera. "With your scientificness and smart-o-synthesis."
"Just sayin'."
They finally get down to shooting the scene for which 'Dear Ryan' is asked to fall in love with a tree. But the seriousness lasts for only a few minutes, before Will pulls down the reflector he's holding, his gaze fixed far away.
"Holy . . . Jesus," he breathes.
Ryan drops the act and turns around. "What?"
"I'm not sure . . . but is that the good-looking weirdo from Red Robin?"
Everyone's eyes almost simultaneously travel to fix on a girl sitting at a bench in the distance, accompanied by another girl, but they're mostly confused by the GTSOP.
"That's definitely her," Derrick mumbles. "I was momentarily—but totally—scared by that face. I'd remember."
She looks like a completely different person without the fancy attire. It's just a plaid shirt and jeans today. Even her hair's tied up in a messy bun and her eyes covered with bigger-than-her-face glasses.
It's kind of cute. Kind of.
By the way she's animatedly talking to the person sitting next to her, Ryan can't believe it was the same girl who scowled at him so scarily the other night.
"Terror in town," Greg says absent-mindedly.
"Yeah, but we don't really know her," Ryan says. "So let's get back to work."
"And act like we never saw Her?" Will adds.
"That makes her sound like Him's girlfriend from PowerPuff—"
"Hello, girls~ So nice of you to come here!" They start laughing at Ryan's impersonation of Him. He takes one last look at the weirdo in the distance before getting back to shooting.
"And that is. A. Wrap!" Ryan declares, throwing his arms up while Sean and Will dance behind him—all part of the BTS, of course. "Oh, dude, I can't wait to go back home. It's so freakin' hot right now."
"You mean like me?" Everyone turns around—including Derrick with the camera—to look at an almost shirtless Greg again.
"Oh, dude," Derrick begins. "That's not hot. That's hot." He nods when Ryan gives him the Please-Censor-His-Nipples-When-You-Edit-This look.
"Let's go back home before I daaaai~" Will whines, fanning himself with the reflector he's holding. Much to his relief, everyone starts packing up.
Well, everyone except Greg.
He's making his way over to the bench where GTSOP was sitting, which is now occupied by only her friend.
"Yo, dude, where are you going?!" Derrick calls out. Greg grins at the camera and keeps walking away.
"Jesus, he's crazy," Will states, slightly amused.
Greg slowly approaches the Girl Who Was Sitting Next to GTSOP—or GWWSNGTSOP, if you will—and just stands.
Yeah. Just stands and smiles, without really saying anything.
GWWSNGTSOP looks up and frowns. The expression is almost as scary as when her friend did it. Greg gulps. "Um, hi?"
"H-Hi!" he chirps. "I'm Greg."
"Okay . . . ?"
This was a bad idea. "So, um, are you new here?
"Kind of?"
"Really? How do you like Vegas?"
GWWSNGTSOP's frown deepens. "I've only been here for a while. And . . . are you alright?"
Greg can feel his shirt clinging to his back, now that he's sweating even more. He continues staring at the girl with an awkward smile plastered on his face. What was he thinking again? Oh, yeah. That he's the 'cool one'.
That's working out perfectly now, isn't it?
"I'm sorry, this is probably really weird, but he just wanted ask you about your friend," a third voice chimes in. Daina. "We saw her, um, a few times, and she looked really bothered. Greg here was just trying to be nice."
Now he has to go back home and do the dishes tonight or something to thank his girlfriend.
GWWSNGTSOP's frown almost immediately turns into a smile as she faces Daina. "Oh, we're both just new here, so I suppose that must be it."
"Really? How do you like Vegas?"
"It's treating us well so far, except for the heat. My friend can't handle the heat."
Now it's Greg's turn to frown. Didn't he just ask the same question, too? Just because he doesn't have 'special assets', he's ignored. The good thing is that now he knows what he's going to do the next time he talks to another girl. Carry a fake pair off—
"—Won't you?" Daina interrupts Greg's brilliant plan.
"Huh?"
"Won't you get a bottle of water for Vivienne here?"
"I, um. Y-yeah, okay."
Daina turns back to GWWSNGTSOP—or 'Vivienne'—and smiles. "So tell, me what does she do again?"