Scenes 3 and 4. #lovetucker2k15
Footballer's Wife
March 5, 2015
It wasn't quite everything Tucker had thought it might be, though.
It was all well and good covering the local news and getting to be a hotshot with a camera around school. Getting out of class during the occasional big event was a definite bonus too.
He'd even met Lance Thunder a couple times and Harriet Chin when she passed through town. They'd both praised him for his initiative and drive and quick learning curve and he beamed.
But about two months into the gig he realized that Amity Park was a really small town.
He'd always known that it was small but this was the first time understanding just how small it was even for a small town. There was nothing to cover.
Literally nothing. to. cover.
The major news stations regularly resorted to covering boring personal stories and extra long segments for the weather in order to fill their slots. Tucker finally got why Lance Thunder was actually a big figure in Amity Park news.
Safety precautions that his parents were prudent enough to put into place and waivers that the city refused to let him sign prevented his covering any potentially dangerous events like the occasional fire alarm.
And car accidents were just morbid, even if ambulance chasing were a feasible option for a kid who was supposed to be in school for most of the day.
Beyond that, there was no crime to speak of in the town.
One time, he looked into a vandalism case on school property and announced on air that it was Dash's handwriting. He'd know it anywhere, recognizing from grading the football player's pop quizzes a couple too many times in class.
Tucker had had to squint through a black eye to read the thank you letter that arrived from the police station the next week.
And he decided to never do that again.
He had learned his lesson.
But the incident had also placed him firmly on Dash's bad side and anyone who got on the King of Casper High's bad side was there to stay for all eternity (or graduation, whichever came first).
Avoidance tactics were only so helpful in the crowded school. Tucker managed to steer clear of him just long enough to think that he might be getting the hang of survival when Lancer passed along a memo from the school board. Which requested more segments on the football team.
As team captain, of course, Dash's word on the field, and, therefore directing the camera and the camera's operator, became law.
It was impossible for Tucker to get away and, while the camera might be sacred, the bespectacled face behind it was not.
Tucker found a groove as he spent more time behind the camera. He instinctively picked up on camera angles that he'd never been taught and actually voluntarily spent time pouring through a cinematography textbook his mother had found somewhere, putting names to some of the techniques he was using and introducing him to a few he might not have thought up by himself.
The editing came easier too, and he knew his way around the programs, whipping up short videos in about as much time as he used to spend not procrastinating on homework. That was barely touched these days except for what was absolutely necessary for passing classes.
His status as resident camera man did mean that teachers cut him some slack. More slack than he ever would have imagined, if he ever offered to film something for them, actually.
That plus the credibility in the halls and the increasing paycheck almost made everything else worth it.
Every segment he filmed made Dash grow in popularity. Which meant that he had more followers avid enough that he could sic them on Tucker whenever he felt like it.
Not that the teachers noticed. They were too smart to keep giving black eyes. But he went home with bruises or after wedgies more often than not. It was a vicious cycle.
Tucker consoled himself by breaking up the monotony with more features on the cheer leaders of the school.
He knew they didn't really have anything important to say to fill up airspace and that if they'd started dating one of the football players the week before without anyone telling him before he wiggled his eyebrows a bit, he would be in a world of pain soon.
At least they looked really good while they said nothing. And he was technically getting paid to do it.
In essence, getting paid to be bullied by an increasing contingent of Dash's followers and if that wasn't ironic, he didn't know what was. Probably shouldn't have skipped out of English earlier but, well, too late now.
Ishiyama had asked for a meeting to discuss the possibility of reopening a defunct sister website, rebooting it to serve as a streaming internet TV for the school and the town. The principal wanted to clarify that he would be able to make videos in high enough quality for it to be a realistic venture. He said it would be no problem whatsoever.
She explained that they needed to draw up release forms for privacy and publicity and whatever else the legal department decided upon in order for him to use footage of his fellow students for something so public. But within a few weeks, everyone should have signed and returned the forms so they could have a green light to proceed with anything they wanted to do.
One teacher had already planned to have finals projects take up screen time in an effort to motivate his students.
It sounded like a good idea, at any rate, although Tucker's footage was still the only thing being submitted at this point.
But the streaming site meant that if he ever had any problems sleeping, he could go online and watch footage of football practices and a kid in an oversized, overheated raven mascot costume.
Tucker preferred the cheer leaders.
To be continued.