Fic: Easy, Breezy, Beautiful
Title: Easy, Breezy, Beautiful
Pairing: April/Leslie friendship times!
Word Count: 3500
Rating: PG
Setting: Season four, starting around “Sweet Sixteen” and going to the end of the season.
Author’s Note: Happy Galentine’s Day, everyone! princess_george asked for a fic about Leslie and April watching America’s Next Top Model together, and as a rabid ANTM hate-watcher, I had to take this prompt. I had a ridiculous amount of fun writing this, and I hope you guys enjoy it. I included video clips of (most of) the relevant mentions of the show.
Easy, Breezy, Beautiful
It’s at 1:23am on a Tuesday night in March that Leslie Knope finally understands why people watch so-called reality TV.
Hypnotism.
In the background of these shows, some subliminal message must be filtering into people’s minds, one that actually keeps them from turning off the television or changing the channel. It draws people in like some kind of dark magic, spellbinding perfectly sane people into watching utter crap. Mind control. It’s the only rational explanation
Leslie knows this because she considers herself to be perfectly sane
Or at least sane enough not to be captivated by this.
There is a woman on the television talking to a plant. She’s calling it Cousin “It” and referring to it as the only one who understands her. A little graphic even pops up to explain that the plant is Cousin “It”, in case the viewer missed that fact in the woman’s drunken slurring. Not one bit of it qualifies as intelligent, worthwhile television, yet Leslie can’t look away.
Like, physically can’t. Not even the work spread out in front of her is enough to draw her attention
If that doesn’t prove something nefarious is embedded in this show, then what does?
“Leslie?”
Leslie jumps, her padfolio falling from her lap to the floor, but it’s only a momentary distraction as she fumbles for the remote in a desperate attempt to change the channel. Except the remote is wedged in the couch cushions and April is already standing behind the couch, so the endeavor is fruitless.
“What are you doing?”
“I was hypnotized!”
April stares at her-though Leslie notices that her gaze can’t help but flit to the TV, only proving her point about this evil show-and Leslie chews on her lip in an attempt to keep from babbling about her theory. Not that she’s going to beat April in a stare-down. “I came out to do some work,” she says, settling on the facts she can prove right now. “And sometimes I put on the television as background noise, especially late at night, and, uh, well…this was on.” She gestures toward the TV, accidentally glancing in that direction as she does, and now it looks like there’s an intervention going on. What the hell? Ugh-stupid show! With effort, she tears her eyes back to April and says in a rush, “I’m not even sure what this is.”
“America’s Next Top Model.”
“What?”
“That’s what this is. It’s a modeling competition.”
Leslie groans, sinking onto the couch and burying her face in a pillow that smells like burnt cheese. No wonder the show is so evil-it’s sponsored by the modeling industry. She should have known.
She feels April sit down next to her and root through the couch cushions for the remote, but instead of turning off the program and freeing Leslie from its spell, she just turns up the volume. Horrified, Leslie sits up, shielding her eyes from the television so she can look at April. “What are you doing? It’ll suck you in too! Turn it off!”
“Ugh, stop it,” whines April as Leslie lunges at the remote. She stuffs inside of her sweatshirt and smacks Leslie’s hand away. “This is a good one.”
“You’ve seen this?”
April shrugs. “I’ve seen a few episodes.”
“But you said it’s a modeling competition.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Modeling, April. Modeling. Modeling.”
“Yep.”
The clipped response does little to reassure Leslie that April understands because she still hasn’t moved to turn off the show. And worse than that, Leslie can hear them talking and she desperately wants to turn around and find out if they’re going to convince the plant woman to stop drinking, and ugh-this is the worst. Focus, Leslie.
“Modeling is an industry that holds women up to impossible beauty standards and reinforces-“
“God-stop.”
“But-“
“No one is going to judge you for watching bad TV, Leslie.”
Leslie blinks, stopped in her tracks by a statement that makes her think April hasn’t been hopelessly brainwashed by something Eagleton would probably help fund. “Bad…What?”
April sighs. “Don’t you ever just watch something because it’s awful?”
“Ann made me watch an episode of Hoarding: Buried Alive once. I had nightmares for a week.”
“Ew. No. I mean something like this with a lot of manufactured drama and people who take themselves way too seriously even though the only reason people really watch is to see someone fall in stupidly high heels.”
“That sounds mean.”
“No, it’s awesome. Leslie, there’s one where a girl gets knocked off a runway by a giant pendulum.”
Leslie frowns, still skeptical. She can kind of see why April would enjoy watching people fall-she’s laughed at Jerry falling more than once. So has Leslie, actually. And everyone else in the department . But that’s Jerry.
“You know you want to watch.”
“No.”
“Well I’m not changing the channel. So you can either stay and watch or go to bed.”
This is one of those landmark decisions, isn’t it? A test of willpower and inner strength. And Leslie has every intention of gathering her work materials and going back to bed.
But it turns out hypnotism is kind of hard to fight. Especially when it joins forces with April Ludgate.
*****
Click to view*****
In the course of the two and a half episodes she and April watch that night, Leslie discovers several things.
First, she realizes now why April sometimes comes to work a couple of hours late. And it’s not because she was up all night secretly brushing up on zoning codes and parks-related business so she could someday dazzle Leslie with a surprising, heartfelt project pitch
Second, Tyra Banks really likes to use the word “fierce.” And she created the show. And a lot of her outfits are the sorts of things Ann always tries to tell Leslie aren’t sexy, and Leslie isn’t exactly sure if this is proof that Ann’s right or she is.
Third-and disturbingly related to the first-in addition to being hypnotizing, this show is also addicting. It’s the only explanation for why she shouts, “That’s it?” when the last episode fades into an infomercial.
“Do you know who wins?” she asks April, shifting on the couch so her legs are folded beneath her. “Are they really going to London? Does Tyra find out that Lisa peed in a diaper?” That last query, in particular, weighs on Leslie’s mind; how was Lisa not sent home for purposely peeing in a diaper while on a photo shoot? As much as Tyra stresses the importance of professionalism, Leslie would like to see some follow-through.
“Yes, yes, and probably yes, but no, she doesn’t ever do anything about it.”
Leslie is beginning to suspect that April has seen more than a couple of episodes of this show. “Well who wins?”
Lazily, April retrieves the remote and starts scrolling through the channel guide. “The rest of a marathon is on tomorrow afternoon.” She glances at Leslie a little too casually and shrugs. “I could tape it.”
This is a precipice, Leslie thinks. The chance to say no and regain her senses and write off the past two and a half hours as one of those middle of the night oddities. Like that time she tried to make marshmallow and bacon pancakes
On the other hand, she really does want to know who wins. Plus they’re going to London. Maybe they’ll do a photo shoot dressed as palace guards.
“I guess there’s no harm in taping it,” Leslie agrees. “You know, just in case there’s another night where we can’t sleep.”
April sets the DVR.
*****
The second Ben is asleep the next night, Leslie tiptoes out of the bedroom.
April is already in the living room, subtly bobbing her head in time with the opening credits.
Four episodes later, when Nicole is named the winner over Nik, Leslie knows this show is flawed not only on premise but in execution as well. And when April wordlessly sets the DVR to tape every episode of the show that airs, Leslie realizes she’s in trouble.
*****
“We have to set some ground rules,” she tells April after four virtually sleepless nights. It’s one thing to be awake and productive in the middle of the night, but this marathon-watching is a phenomenal waste of time.
April might not agree with Leslie’s reasoning, but the dark circles under her eyes make her more than receptive to a proposal. “Like what?”
“Only one episode a night. And we can’t start it any later than one.”
“What if one of us needs a night off? What Andy and I are having sex and-“
Leslie lets out something between a yelp and a groan and raises her voice to cut April off. “Okay, yes,” she agrees. It’s a good point, even if articulated as grossly as possible. After all, she doesn’t spend every night here. Just a lot of them. And it’s not like she and Ben don’t sometimes get caught up in doing…other stuff. “If one of us needs the night off-for whatever reason-then I guess the other person can just watch…alone?”
An odd sort of weight settles into her stomach as she makes that less than declarative statement. She wonders what it would be like to watch an entire episode alone, without April’s impressions of the judges and her deadpan jokes. April just idly picks at one of her cuticles and shrugs. “Fine. Is that it?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Great.”
She gets up and goes to bed without even saying goodnight.
*****
There isn’t another marathon on until the following week, which Leslie only finds out after scrolling through the DVR and finding it devoid of episodes. An immediate wave of disappointment is quickly quelled by the thought that she has the chance to catch up on her work now, and the notion that maybe this will give her the chance to detox. If she gets through the initial withdrawal, she’ll never force herself to suffer through another episode of this hideous show.
The fact that April doesn’t mention it once that week makes Leslie think she feels the same
And then Jennifer Barkley arrives.
Marathon day passes in a nightmarish blur, she and Ben each clinging to one another like they’re each the other’s last vestige of hope, and for the next several days, Leslie barely comes up for air. By the time she and Ben regain their footing enough to move forward, Leslie can practically feel the stress coiled in her muscles.
Sunday night, when she creeps to the kitchen to make a cup of cocoa, she’s legitimately surprised to find April sitting in the living room. Those few weird days of laughing at absurd photo shoots and people who took themselves too seriously feel like part of a dream-something that no longer has a place in this world of political tension and endless strategy sessions. But for reasons Leslie can’t explain, she finds herself sitting down next to April and breathing a much needed sigh of relief when the credits start.
“What did I miss?” she asks, settling in and swiping a dollop of whipped cream into her mouth. “Are they already in another country?”
“I didn’t watch it.”
Leslie blinks owlishly, glancing at April, whose gaze remains fixed on the television. It’s on the tip of her tongue to ask why, when April says, “This is the short cycle.”
“Huh?”
“All the models had to be 5’7” or shorter.”
“Really?” Leslie leans forward eagerly. “You mean Tyra finally decided short people can wear clothes and take pictures too?”
April smiles, and suddenly Leslie understands the most important part of this whole, as April calls it, hate-watching thing
It’s no fun if you’re watching alone.
*****
“This is crap! I mean, are they serious? They’re seriously claiming this is a ‘short’ season? The winner was 5’7”! That’s not short!”
“Anyone looks short when you’re a giant like Tyra. She’d probably just step on you.”
Leslie ignores April, throwing up her hands exasperatedly. “I’m not even 5’7” in my highest heels! That is short. I mean, what is the point of calling this a ‘short’ cycle if they’re not going to pick a short winner? You don’t exactly have to be tall to do what they do.”
“You don’t have to be the size of toothpick either,” says April lazily. “If we’re looking at the actual requirements for this job, you have to be able to walk without falling on your ass and pose in a picture.”
“That’s exactly my point,” Leslie huffs. She sinks back onto the couch and folds her arms over her chest, making a face at Tyra’s frozen image on the screen. “You should have seen me modeling clothes before my TV interview. I looked pretty fierce.”
“Yeah. If they ever have a pantsuit season, you should audition.”
“I should.”
“And then Tyra can cut off all your hair during makeover week. Give you a fierce buzz cut.”
“Well…”
“And you can spend weeks walking around taking pictures in your underwear and letting them put you in blackface for a totally inoffensive multi-ethnic photo shoot.”
“Okay. Fine. I get it. This entire show is ridiculous.”
“Thank you.”
“But I still say they shouldn’t call it a short cycle.”
*****
“One Halloween, Ben and Derek dressed up Jay and Nigel and I was Janice Dickinson, and we walked around the whole night taking pictures of people and critiquing their poses.”
Leslie furrows her brow. This is the first cycle they’ve watched with Janice Dickinson, and mostly Leslie finds herself desperately missing Twiggy, even if she did change the standard of modeling to stick-thin. The fact that Leslie now knows this is a whole other concern. “Janice is kind of horrible.”
“Janice is awesome. She’s pretty much the only one there who realizes this whole show is bullshit.”
“But she’s so mean.”
“Yeah. That’s why she’s awesome.”
“I’m more concerned about the fact that none of these women could read that teleprompter. Do you realize what that says about literacy in our country?”
“Yeah. You don’t have to read to be famous.”
“No-“
April cuts her off before she can get going. More than once, she’s declared Leslie’s complaints to be ruining the show. “Have you been practicing smizing for the debate?”
Leslie laughs awkwardly. “No.”
“Really? Because you were definitely smiling with your eyes in that picture that was in the paper the other day.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Ew, god. I was joking. Are you really practicing that?”
“No. Of course not. Maybe just a little.” Leslie chews on her lip and then adds, “Ben thought it was a good idea.”
“Ben said smizing during campaign events was a good idea?”
“Well he doesn’t exactly know what smizing is, but yeah. When I showed him, he said I looked beautifully approachable.”
“Ugh. Gross."
“Yeah, well-I saw you do that booty tooch in front of Andy the other day.”
“I was picking up a pencil.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I was.”
“Okay.” Leslie grins, taking the tiniest bit of joy in rankling April. “I believe you.”
“Shut up.”
*****
*****
“Do you ever feel gross about watching this show?”
“Only when you point it out.”
April is curled up on the other end of the couch, feet tangled in a blanket, watching the drama unfold on screen, seemingly without blinking. It’s the first time in a week they’ve been able to watch an episode, and they left off in the middle of a particularly engrossing season. One of the contestants, a woman named Jade, April declares to be “Lisa-level crazy,” and Leslie is beginning to see why.
“How can you criticize someone for not having a personality?”
“That’s the number one reason I never auditioned.”
Leslie frowns, leaning back on the arm of the couch and tucking her feet under the edge of April’s blanket. April’s deadpan humor aside, Leslie wonders what the world would be like if everyone judged people like Tyra did; if in that world, quiet, stony-faced people like April would ever get anywhere
There are times when watching this show that Leslie is extra grateful that reality seems far removed from a world where people are accused of having no personality and judged by whether or not they have a five-finger forehead.
“Donna told me you did a great job with that meeting today.”
“Leslie…”
“She said all the department heads signed off on the proposal. Even Ron. It usually takes me days to convince him.”
“I forged his signature.”
She’s joking, right? Of course she’s joking. Maybe she’ll confirm with Ron tomorrow that April is totally joking. “My point is, I think you’re doing an awesome job. And I really appreciate you stepping up while I’m working on the campaign.”
“God, Leslie. Can we just watch this? You’re talking over the entire judging panel.”
Leslie sighs, turning back to the television where Nigel, Miss J, Tyra and Twiggy are in a heated debate over whether or not to keep Jade. Considering how badly she messed up the Cover Girl commercial, Leslie’s sure she’s a goner. After all, how hard is it to nail that line? Easy, breezy, beautiful.
Sure enough, Tyra parses down the group to Jade and the girl with no personality, lecturing them both about their many faults in the competition. Leslie finds herself strangely unable to laugh at the absurdity of it tonight, and even April is unusually quiet.
Not for the first time, Tyra proves that she and Leslie value vastly different things as she pulls out Jade’s picture and offers her another chance. Molly, the poor girl with no personality, is squished like a bug beneath Tyra’s ridiculously high heel.
“Thank you for believing in me, Tyra.”
It’s Jade’s line-practically her catchphrase at this point-but Leslie doesn’t really hear it come from the TV. Instead, it’s April quietly mumbling the words that catches her attention.
*****
*****
At 1:39am on a Sunday night in May, Leslie finishes watching America’s Next Top Model with April for the last time.
She doesn’t know it’s the last time. If she had, she might have insisted on finishing the last two episodes of the season. She might have said something stupid and sentimental. She might have thanked April for not breaking her hypnosis.
But she doesn’t know it’s the last time.
A week later, Ben and April are gone, and Leslie’s left in the strangely heartsick predicament of missing her boyfriend and losing what had become a strangely cathartic guilty pleasure all at once. Those first few nights of missing Ben, she tries to watch those last two episodes of cycle six on her computer, but it’s not the same without April, and she quits before she finds out if Jodie, Danielle or Jade won.
Knowing Tyra, it was probably Jade.
*****
Two weeks into the longest summer of Leslie’s life, a package arrives from Ben. She laughs mostly and cries a little through the note he wrote, but it’s the postscript that gives her the most pause.
April asked me to send the book in the package. I asked her why and she told me not to ask questions. If you understand this, I hope you’ll explain it to me later.
Leslie digs through the things Ben sent to the bottom of the box, fingers finding the spine of a book and pulling it out. A dark cover greets her, Tyra’s name emblazoned across the top.
It’s Modelland.
“Oh my god.” Leslie opens the book, not quite certain she’s actually holding it in her hands, and is further surprised when she realizes April has scrolled something inside.
I’m sure this book is horrible. Probably even worse than the show. But I bought a copy too so I have something to read when I’m bored at work, which I’m sure will be all the time. So you better read it fast because I’m not going to feel bad about spoilers.
Love, April
Smiling, Leslie sets down the book and pulls out her cell phone, scrolling through her contacts to April and typing out a quick thank you text message. She’s not exactly surprised when April manages to respond less than a minute later.
Call tonight to finish cycle 6?
Leslie grins.
She hopes hate-watching is just as fun on the phone.
Author's Note 2: Modelland is a real book. My sister (my hate-watching partner in crime) actually sent it to me as a birthday present this year. We're planning to read it together. Sadly, I couldn't find a longer clip of that teleprompter moment (it goes on a lot longer and the inability to read with fluency becomes much more apparent). I am also beyond disappointed that I couldn't find a clip of Lisa peeing in a diaper during cycle 5. It is a legitimately terrible viewing experience. I also couldn't find footage of their "biracial photo shoot", but it is as horrible as it sounds.
Bonus video clip (girl hit by pendulum):
Happy Galentine's Day! Love you guys!