Just a warning, they’ll be a bit more swearing than usual in this fic.
“Hellooooo, Silas University, this is Laura Hollis, newest reporter for Voice of Silas news channel!”
Your palms are sweating, and you’ve never been more nervous. It’s your first professional job, and even though it doesn’t pay that well, you’ve heard that the Dean gives a lot of ‘preferential treatment’ to the people that work for the school’s official news outlet.
The ones that did a bad job were never heard from again, which you try not to think about too much.
You also try not to think about the fact that you have a script, written for you by the Dean, which you had to memorize before the broadcast.
“We’re here in front of the Summer Society Building, where VP of outdoor recreation Danny Lawrence is preparing for the annual Adonis Festival and Hunt. How grateful our students must be for the generosity of our most adored Lilita Morgan, who allows her students to–”
“Jesus fucking Christ, that is one BIG ASS fire pit you guys are making!”
You’re startled by the outburst and turn around. There’s a girl standing by Danny, pointing at the fire pit she’s building. She catches your eye and smirks.
“….Okay, it’s a good thing this isn’t live.” You say, turning back to the camera man. “We’re going to have to retake that, right? The Dean won’t like hearing that in the background…”
“It’s fine. Let’s try it again,” he says gently. “And….go.”
“….Okay. We are at the Summer Society House, where–”
“Seriously though, what the FUCK are you going to catch on this hunt that needs to be cooked in this giant-ass fire pit!” She shouts again. Danny–and you–look like you’re both going to strangle her.
“Maybe we should start with a different segment,” you say to your camera man.
Okay, now this woman isn’t even trying to be subtle about it anymore.
She follows you everywhere. And succeeds to say something to ruin every single shot you try and take.
“Hello, I’m Laura Hollis from Silas news channel coming to you from the Lustig Building–”
“What an abso-fucking-lutely great day!”
“–Coming to you from the Alchemy Club–”
“Shit, I have class, my professor can suck my–” You covered your ears for the rest of that one.
“…Laura Hollis here at the Zeta–”
“FUCKING BALLS MAN. FUCKING BALLS.”
“Okay, that is IT!” You tell your camera man to wait and stomp across the path, to where the woman is standing with her arms crossed.
“What is your problem? We have a broadcast we need to get ready by tonight, and do you expect me to believe it’s a coincidence that you’ve happened to be behind us in every shot swearing?”
Her dark eyes appraise you for a moment. “No, I don’t. I have totally been doing this on purpose.”
Okay, you weren’t expecting her to fess up quite so fast. You at least expected some sort of sarcasm in her response.
“…Oh. Then, uh…may I ask why?”
“May I ask why you are working as one of the Dean’s little propaganda machines?”
“Considering that you’ve been yelling ‘dicks’ at me all day, I feel like I deserve an answer first.”
She smirks. “Touche, cupcake. Fine. The Dean is my mom.”
Your blood turns to ice. “Sh-she’s your mom? You’re Carmilla Karnstein?”
“As hilarious as your reaction is, relax. We don’t get along, hence why I’m not a big fan of her little propaganda news channel.”
“Well, how is that my fault?”
“I can’t bother her, have you seen her?”
“Do you think I want to do this? I didn’t know I’d have to read off a piece of paper, I definitely didn’t know I’d be saying any of this stupid ‘we love the Dean’ stuff. But I also need to not get expelled. Or worse.”
Carmilla’s gaze softens. “…You are way too smart for this job. I can tell.”
“I want to be a journalist, and they offered it to me.”
“Do you still want it?” Carmilla asks, raising an eyebrow.
“…No. But mostly that’s because of you.”
Carmilla flashes a wicked grin. “You know, I have ways of keeping Mom off your back if you want to mess with her.”
“You can fill in the blank yourself, though I can give you some ideas.”
“No. No, I have journalistic integrity. I couldn’t mess up the broadcast on purpose.”
“Oh, really? So you have integrity when your script says to call the Dean ‘the greatest gift to our campus’?”
No. No it wasn’t. And frankly as annoying as Carmilla has been, she is totally right. This is not how you imagined being a reporter would go…but no. You shake your head. “Just don’t mess with our shot again, okay?”
Carmilla rolls her eyes, but sits on the ground. “Fine. Sure.”
“…Laura, we’re seriously running out of time here!”
“Then we’ll have to broadcast live, I guess?”
Your camera guy gets everything ready. The Dean is apparently not happy, but as long as things go ‘according to plan’, it was fine. Or else, of course.
“Are we rolling?”
“Goooood evening Silas University! This is Laura Hollis, newest reporter from Voice of Silas news channel, your place for totally unbiased, objective reporting on the happenings of Silas U!”
Carmilla really isn’t going to bother you. She doesn’t say a word.
You really need to recite this script.
“We are at the Zeta Omega Mu Fraternity House, where the Zetas are preparing for the annual Homecoming goat sacrifice. Our students are most grateful for the most revered Dean, Lilita Morgan…”
And, all of a sudden, nausea hits your stomach. Carmilla is right. The words are sticky and taste like bile as you say them. You can’t do this. It goes against every fiber of your being.
“..For letting the Zetas sacrifice this giant-ass goat.”
Carmilla jumps up behind her and shouts, “Shut. UP!”
“Yes, the Zetas certainly know how to pick those goats. In fact, they seem a little too obsessed with their goats, right? But that’s nothing compared to the Summer Society and their gi-fucking-gantic fire pit–”
Your camera guy finally comes out of shock enough to cut the feed. Your eyes widen. Oh God, you really just did that. OH GOD, THERE ARE SIRENS–
A hand grabs your arm from behind.
“Cupcake, what are you waiting for? Run!”
You spin around, look into the eyes of the Dean’s daughter–your best chance of survival–and start running with her.
“So you’re helping me then?”
“Of course! You are the first girl that has ever done that! You got guts, Hollis. Now RUN FASTER, I HEAR FOOTSTEPS!”
As you both run, and she pulls you around a corner and flattens both of your bodies against the wall, you catch her whisper:
“I have a feeling we’ll be spending a lot of time together for the next few days, cupcake.”
You have a feeling she’s right. You don’t know how you feel about it.
Adrenaline, though. There’s definitely a lot of adrenaline.