who would have thought we were so deep?
Title: Who Would have Thought we were so Deep?
Author:
dramatic_sigh
Fandom: Gossip Girl. Oh, and it's RPF. So I'm going straight to hell.
Rating: PG. Some swearing, is all.
People: Jessica Szohr. And others.
Summary: She only wanted to get out of L.A.
A/N: So there's a few things I want to say about this first. Firstly, yes, I am crazy and realise how creepy this is. Second, just consider this bordering on the AU, as I don't know what these people are like in real life, nor what their future holds. And thirdly, the Rob Lowe/CSI thing is something I kinda wish would happen. Because he'd make a awesomely hot leader. Anyway...on with the story.
Rumour has it that as soon as she stepped through the door he knew she was his ‘Vanessa’. Two days later, her manager called, telling her that the executive producers wanted her to go down to the Warner lot and throw a tape together for the producers in New York.
Truth? She was never desperate to book it. The chance came along and she took it.
She really just wanted to get out of L.A.
---
Wisconsin is her home and while she tells her cast mates and L.A friends that it’s pretty much like ‘That 70s Show’, just 30 years on, they laugh and a new conversation starts. It’s more than that; the small suburb she calls home, the two-story house with the above ground pool that her parents still live in. Her sister still attends the local high school (Chace has signed more that a few photos for her) the paint ball field she used to frequent; it’s all there. She misses it. A lot.
“What are you thinking about?”
His arm is flung across the back of her chair and he swirls whatever poison he’s drinking today. His accent catches her off guard and she gives him a grin.
“Home.”
He smiles back and stares fondly at his glass, speaking before downing the rest of his drink.
“Me too, mate, me too.”
Big fish from small ponds find it hard to adjust to the ocean.
---
First day on set is daunting, oh so daunting. She doesn’t know anyone and it gives her too much of a ‘first day at school’ vibe than she’d like to admit.
She shoots her first scene with Penn. He’s nice and all, but reminds her of the guy the teachers ask to show around the new kid. In the break he talks to her a bit about the show and his character and he somehow gets onto the topic of Russian Period dramas and she’s officially lost. Brilliant guy and a talented actor, sure, but maybe just a bit too serious. Still, he’s nice and invites her to a small get together at another of the principle cast’s apartment, which she gladly accepts.
Later that night, she knocks on the door, nervous as anything. Some guy she doesn’t know answers, yelling behind him.
“It’s not Sebastian, but whoever she is, she bought more grog!”
“Hi, I’m Jessica - Penn invited me -”
“Of course! Jessica - I knew you looked familiar! Come in, come in! I’m Ed, this is Chace, Nicole and Leighton is…”
“Here!” A cheerful brunette gives her a friendly hug, “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”
They each give her a hug and before she knows it she’s emersed in a debate about Cheech and Chong vs. Bill and Ted and it’s kind of like she’s known them all her life. Penn and Blake arrive later, together she notes to herself. Blake doesn’t drink, but she throws herself into the discussion, Penn left observing quietly.
Bottles empty, Nicole leaves for another party (she knows everyone in this town) and there’s a couples vibe as Blake and Penn talk quietly and she can hear Leighton and Sebastian giggling from the kitchen. Chace sits beside her, too drunk to move and Ed throws a DVD on, taking his place on the other side of her.
Familiar music starts up and she smirks.
“Black books.”
“You’ve seen it?”
“I love it!”
He laughs and kisses her on the cheek, alcohol strong on his breath.
“We’re going to get along just fine, aren’t we?”
---
Taylor is like any precocious child star and a child she is, Jessica reminds herself, leaving out details of her wild nights and trying to control her potty mouth. She’s statuesque and beautiful, with a bright future ahead of her. At fifteen, she may not be the breakout star, like Leighton or Chace, but she’s done more high budget movies than the most of them combined and, you wouldn’t know it, but she’s shy. Nervously tugging at hemlines and blushing during read throughs, she’s a sheltered child star; no drugs, no sex, no alcohol. There’s a minder in the wings and Josh is forever the cautious one, whatever you feel comfortable with, Taylor.
Taylor’s like the little sister she always had, but didn’t, (in the sense that she’s not as annoying and doesn’t steal her clothes). She sits in a chair with her name on it (she can’t believe it either) while the hair stylist adjusts her curls and touches up Taylor’s make up and the shy teenager throws her a shy smile.
“It’s surreal, huh?”
“What?”
“Being here,” a sweeping gesture at the organised chaos around them “doing this. It’s like nothing I ever imagined.”
“It sure isn’t.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
A statement rather than a question and Jessica glances sideways at the girl and shrugs. It’s her fifth day on set and she’s enjoying it as much as one can enjoy it. Thousands of girls would kill for this job, to sit in her chair. She kind of hates herself for taking it for granted.
“It’s different,” Jessica settles with, smiling lightly.
“Beats playing some daughter in a family sitcom.”
“Got that right.”
---
She googles herself. Once.
(Curiosity killed the cat, didn’t it?)
Never again though. Her sister does a quite good enough job relaying every single tiny tidbit of gossip they hear about her.
None of it’s nice.
“They hate me,” she laughs bitterly, vodka and orange juice sliding down her throat (it’s not even 5pm - she blames Ed, obviously).
“They hate your character.”
“According to my sister, they hate me as well.”
“The same sister that stole your Sex Pistols shirt?” Ed’s mocking her now. She isn’t happy.
“Shut up. They still hate me.”
“Well, you can do one of three things,” Ed declares, downing his drink, “you can get yourself a sexy accent,”
She chokes back a laugh.
“You could grow yourself a pretty set of man-bangs like Chace over here -”
“Mock away, Westwick, but I’m still prettier than you.”
“Or, you could bribe the writers to get your character to hook up with a main character in the back of a limo.”
“How original,” She mutters sarcastically.
“Worked for me,” he shrugs, “first episode I tried to rape two girls, few episodes later Chuck does the deed with Blair and presto! Chuck Bass is Gossip Girl.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“They like me, they really like me!”
(She sighs. As much as she loves Ed, he can be such a dick.)
“Who gives a shit what they think, Jess,” Chace shrugs, taking a sip of his beer, “it’s the fucking CW.”
“To the CW!” Ed raises his glass.
Chace and Jess share an ‘I don’t want to be the one to drag his ass home tonight’ glance, but raise their glasses all the same.
“To the CW.”
---
Contrary to popular belief, Chace can act. He may have started off doing some questionable modelling and that movie, (which shall remain nameless) that plucked four hot young guys out of actor obscurity.
(If you’re hot, no one really cares how well you can act. They just care how you look on film.)
But he recites Shakespeare when he’s drunk (better than Penn, but no one’s going to tell him that) and watches The Office religiously (he doesn’t go out Thursday nights).
He’s all smiles and Texan charm. If she weren’t such a cynic, she’d be swooning by now. Between him and Ed, she’s never had so many door opened, chairs pulled out, arms offered in her life.
(In an alternate universe, one without Gossip Girl, she could see herself falling for him. It’s not because he’s pretty - he is - but in the way he doesn’t put up with her shit. He’s the first to put her in her place, the first to tell her when she’s wrong. She’s thankful for that.)
They look out for her. In a city that can be cruel and a career that can crush you at any moment, it’s nice to have that sort of security.
(She’s never had it before.)
---
She’s been doing this for about six months now. The strike gave her some much-needed downtime, a chance to go home, get back to LA, and catch up with friends. The show may be put on hold, but gossip still runs rampant, rumours about Blake and Leighton’s rivalry (complete bull, for the record) and Chace with some ex-N*Sync-er (she literally wet her pants when she heard that one). She survives, pretty much unscathed. She’s not a permanent character yet, she reminds herself daily. This isn’t set in stone.
It’s fun though. Penn’s loosened up a bit and her new storyline with Chace is a welcome change. It takes them forever to get the kiss right, constantly breaking in and out.
(She hears a grip mutter professionals during the eighth take, so she stuffs up on purpose. Professional she is. Mature, she’s not.)
They finally get the take and the director is pretty happy, talking about ‘natural’ and ‘great chemistry’ and once in Chace’s trailer, they can’t stop laughing.
(Don’t look so shocked, but she’s happy. Really.)
---
They get another season, 26 episodes long and her contract is renewed. She’s pretty surprised, their ratings were never anything to write home about and the network isn’t doing that great to begin with. But she’s working and that’s all that matters.
There’s a pool on who will leave first. Ed’s betting Leighton, the girl who can’t sit still in one place and is (always) looking for something more. Her money’s on Penn, he’s already disgruntled about his character. (He’s probably the most talented out of all of them, really.)
“I’ll take another six years of this,” he chuckles lazily, “honestly, this-” gesturing wildly at his drink, attractive women at a nearby table and the live band “-is what life is all about.”
Her? She doesn’t really know what she wants. Some screen time would be a start.
---
Much to everyone’s surprise (including her own), she’s the first to abandon the sinking ship. And boy, is it sinking. Season three wraps up with a bang and a season four is announced and she thinks she sees surprise in Josh’s eyes. No one understands teenagers like Josh Schwartz, but he also understands that attention spans only last so long.
Her? Season two and she landed herself a role in an Apatow film and the doors just flew open. It’s surreal, really. Suddenly it’s Jessica, Jessica, Jessica and storylines galore to keep her hooked and reel her in.
They’re not bitter, really. Josh doesn’t like it, but he understands and truth be told, her character wasn’t that important anyway.
“So what’s this exciting new project that’s stealing you away from us?”
He’s full of smirks and nudges and she relents, giving him a grin.
“Some CSI spin-off.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I play some rich rookie with a daddy complex and something to prove.”
“Sounds thought provoking.”
“Oh it is. And I star alongside Rob Lowe.”
“Christ. Bloody CSI. Can you believe it?”
“Nup.”
Ed shakes his head, uncharacteristically silent for a moment, staring into his drink. He stares out at the party, deep in thought, before glancing at her.
“Well…to bigger and brighter things.”
Smiles all round for the duo as they toast to an unstable yet exciting future.
It’s the least they can do
---
Funny thing about LA - you can leave for a few years and when you return it’s like you never left. Friends are still there, the places are the same. Time stops in L.A. You can always know what to expect.
She has a house now. It’s not a mansion or anything, but it’s nice.
CSI is CSI; it sits in it’s own untouchable bubble, its network’s pride and joy. It’s not easy, not the slightest, and she’s had to grow up. A lot.
(It’s the science that throws her. Words she can barely pronounce roll off the tongue and inappropriate footwear is essential. She suggested a ‘Casual Friday’ thing to the writers, but she’s not holding her breath.)
You happy, mate? He asks her from the other side of the country. She smiles, imagining him swirling his drink and Chace snoring from the other room. It’s 2am and these conversations are more and more frequent as the weeks go by.
(She misses that show more than she’d like to admit.)
She can’t help but smile into the receiver.
You know me, can’t complain.
Truth be told, she knows (back then, even) that Gossip Girl isn’t the be all and end all of TV dramas. She knows that whatever happens, he’ll land on his feet, she’ll stay afloat and things will be fine.
Worst comes to worse, they’ll just ride Chace’s pretty coat tails to the finish line.
(Their futures are bright.)
+ I hope that wasn't to creepy.
+ Title taken from 'Do-do's and Woah-oh's' by Kisschasy
+ Reviews are always quite nice.
Author:
dramatic_sigh
Fandom: Gossip Girl. Oh, and it's RPF. So I'm going straight to hell.
Rating: PG. Some swearing, is all.
People: Jessica Szohr. And others.
Summary: She only wanted to get out of L.A.
A/N: So there's a few things I want to say about this first. Firstly, yes, I am crazy and realise how creepy this is. Second, just consider this bordering on the AU, as I don't know what these people are like in real life, nor what their future holds. And thirdly, the Rob Lowe/CSI thing is something I kinda wish would happen. Because he'd make a awesomely hot leader. Anyway...on with the story.
Rumour has it that as soon as she stepped through the door he knew she was his ‘Vanessa’. Two days later, her manager called, telling her that the executive producers wanted her to go down to the Warner lot and throw a tape together for the producers in New York.
Truth? She was never desperate to book it. The chance came along and she took it.
She really just wanted to get out of L.A.
---
Wisconsin is her home and while she tells her cast mates and L.A friends that it’s pretty much like ‘That 70s Show’, just 30 years on, they laugh and a new conversation starts. It’s more than that; the small suburb she calls home, the two-story house with the above ground pool that her parents still live in. Her sister still attends the local high school (Chace has signed more that a few photos for her) the paint ball field she used to frequent; it’s all there. She misses it. A lot.
“What are you thinking about?”
His arm is flung across the back of her chair and he swirls whatever poison he’s drinking today. His accent catches her off guard and she gives him a grin.
“Home.”
He smiles back and stares fondly at his glass, speaking before downing the rest of his drink.
“Me too, mate, me too.”
Big fish from small ponds find it hard to adjust to the ocean.
---
First day on set is daunting, oh so daunting. She doesn’t know anyone and it gives her too much of a ‘first day at school’ vibe than she’d like to admit.
She shoots her first scene with Penn. He’s nice and all, but reminds her of the guy the teachers ask to show around the new kid. In the break he talks to her a bit about the show and his character and he somehow gets onto the topic of Russian Period dramas and she’s officially lost. Brilliant guy and a talented actor, sure, but maybe just a bit too serious. Still, he’s nice and invites her to a small get together at another of the principle cast’s apartment, which she gladly accepts.
Later that night, she knocks on the door, nervous as anything. Some guy she doesn’t know answers, yelling behind him.
“It’s not Sebastian, but whoever she is, she bought more grog!”
“Hi, I’m Jessica - Penn invited me -”
“Of course! Jessica - I knew you looked familiar! Come in, come in! I’m Ed, this is Chace, Nicole and Leighton is…”
“Here!” A cheerful brunette gives her a friendly hug, “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”
They each give her a hug and before she knows it she’s emersed in a debate about Cheech and Chong vs. Bill and Ted and it’s kind of like she’s known them all her life. Penn and Blake arrive later, together she notes to herself. Blake doesn’t drink, but she throws herself into the discussion, Penn left observing quietly.
Bottles empty, Nicole leaves for another party (she knows everyone in this town) and there’s a couples vibe as Blake and Penn talk quietly and she can hear Leighton and Sebastian giggling from the kitchen. Chace sits beside her, too drunk to move and Ed throws a DVD on, taking his place on the other side of her.
Familiar music starts up and she smirks.
“Black books.”
“You’ve seen it?”
“I love it!”
He laughs and kisses her on the cheek, alcohol strong on his breath.
“We’re going to get along just fine, aren’t we?”
---
Taylor is like any precocious child star and a child she is, Jessica reminds herself, leaving out details of her wild nights and trying to control her potty mouth. She’s statuesque and beautiful, with a bright future ahead of her. At fifteen, she may not be the breakout star, like Leighton or Chace, but she’s done more high budget movies than the most of them combined and, you wouldn’t know it, but she’s shy. Nervously tugging at hemlines and blushing during read throughs, she’s a sheltered child star; no drugs, no sex, no alcohol. There’s a minder in the wings and Josh is forever the cautious one, whatever you feel comfortable with, Taylor.
Taylor’s like the little sister she always had, but didn’t, (in the sense that she’s not as annoying and doesn’t steal her clothes). She sits in a chair with her name on it (she can’t believe it either) while the hair stylist adjusts her curls and touches up Taylor’s make up and the shy teenager throws her a shy smile.
“It’s surreal, huh?”
“What?”
“Being here,” a sweeping gesture at the organised chaos around them “doing this. It’s like nothing I ever imagined.”
“It sure isn’t.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
A statement rather than a question and Jessica glances sideways at the girl and shrugs. It’s her fifth day on set and she’s enjoying it as much as one can enjoy it. Thousands of girls would kill for this job, to sit in her chair. She kind of hates herself for taking it for granted.
“It’s different,” Jessica settles with, smiling lightly.
“Beats playing some daughter in a family sitcom.”
“Got that right.”
---
She googles herself. Once.
(Curiosity killed the cat, didn’t it?)
Never again though. Her sister does a quite good enough job relaying every single tiny tidbit of gossip they hear about her.
None of it’s nice.
“They hate me,” she laughs bitterly, vodka and orange juice sliding down her throat (it’s not even 5pm - she blames Ed, obviously).
“They hate your character.”
“According to my sister, they hate me as well.”
“The same sister that stole your Sex Pistols shirt?” Ed’s mocking her now. She isn’t happy.
“Shut up. They still hate me.”
“Well, you can do one of three things,” Ed declares, downing his drink, “you can get yourself a sexy accent,”
She chokes back a laugh.
“You could grow yourself a pretty set of man-bangs like Chace over here -”
“Mock away, Westwick, but I’m still prettier than you.”
“Or, you could bribe the writers to get your character to hook up with a main character in the back of a limo.”
“How original,” She mutters sarcastically.
“Worked for me,” he shrugs, “first episode I tried to rape two girls, few episodes later Chuck does the deed with Blair and presto! Chuck Bass is Gossip Girl.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“They like me, they really like me!”
(She sighs. As much as she loves Ed, he can be such a dick.)
“Who gives a shit what they think, Jess,” Chace shrugs, taking a sip of his beer, “it’s the fucking CW.”
“To the CW!” Ed raises his glass.
Chace and Jess share an ‘I don’t want to be the one to drag his ass home tonight’ glance, but raise their glasses all the same.
“To the CW.”
---
Contrary to popular belief, Chace can act. He may have started off doing some questionable modelling and that movie, (which shall remain nameless) that plucked four hot young guys out of actor obscurity.
(If you’re hot, no one really cares how well you can act. They just care how you look on film.)
But he recites Shakespeare when he’s drunk (better than Penn, but no one’s going to tell him that) and watches The Office religiously (he doesn’t go out Thursday nights).
He’s all smiles and Texan charm. If she weren’t such a cynic, she’d be swooning by now. Between him and Ed, she’s never had so many door opened, chairs pulled out, arms offered in her life.
(In an alternate universe, one without Gossip Girl, she could see herself falling for him. It’s not because he’s pretty - he is - but in the way he doesn’t put up with her shit. He’s the first to put her in her place, the first to tell her when she’s wrong. She’s thankful for that.)
They look out for her. In a city that can be cruel and a career that can crush you at any moment, it’s nice to have that sort of security.
(She’s never had it before.)
---
She’s been doing this for about six months now. The strike gave her some much-needed downtime, a chance to go home, get back to LA, and catch up with friends. The show may be put on hold, but gossip still runs rampant, rumours about Blake and Leighton’s rivalry (complete bull, for the record) and Chace with some ex-N*Sync-er (she literally wet her pants when she heard that one). She survives, pretty much unscathed. She’s not a permanent character yet, she reminds herself daily. This isn’t set in stone.
It’s fun though. Penn’s loosened up a bit and her new storyline with Chace is a welcome change. It takes them forever to get the kiss right, constantly breaking in and out.
(She hears a grip mutter professionals during the eighth take, so she stuffs up on purpose. Professional she is. Mature, she’s not.)
They finally get the take and the director is pretty happy, talking about ‘natural’ and ‘great chemistry’ and once in Chace’s trailer, they can’t stop laughing.
(Don’t look so shocked, but she’s happy. Really.)
---
They get another season, 26 episodes long and her contract is renewed. She’s pretty surprised, their ratings were never anything to write home about and the network isn’t doing that great to begin with. But she’s working and that’s all that matters.
There’s a pool on who will leave first. Ed’s betting Leighton, the girl who can’t sit still in one place and is (always) looking for something more. Her money’s on Penn, he’s already disgruntled about his character. (He’s probably the most talented out of all of them, really.)
“I’ll take another six years of this,” he chuckles lazily, “honestly, this-” gesturing wildly at his drink, attractive women at a nearby table and the live band “-is what life is all about.”
Her? She doesn’t really know what she wants. Some screen time would be a start.
---
Much to everyone’s surprise (including her own), she’s the first to abandon the sinking ship. And boy, is it sinking. Season three wraps up with a bang and a season four is announced and she thinks she sees surprise in Josh’s eyes. No one understands teenagers like Josh Schwartz, but he also understands that attention spans only last so long.
Her? Season two and she landed herself a role in an Apatow film and the doors just flew open. It’s surreal, really. Suddenly it’s Jessica, Jessica, Jessica and storylines galore to keep her hooked and reel her in.
They’re not bitter, really. Josh doesn’t like it, but he understands and truth be told, her character wasn’t that important anyway.
“So what’s this exciting new project that’s stealing you away from us?”
He’s full of smirks and nudges and she relents, giving him a grin.
“Some CSI spin-off.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I play some rich rookie with a daddy complex and something to prove.”
“Sounds thought provoking.”
“Oh it is. And I star alongside Rob Lowe.”
“Christ. Bloody CSI. Can you believe it?”
“Nup.”
Ed shakes his head, uncharacteristically silent for a moment, staring into his drink. He stares out at the party, deep in thought, before glancing at her.
“Well…to bigger and brighter things.”
Smiles all round for the duo as they toast to an unstable yet exciting future.
It’s the least they can do
---
Funny thing about LA - you can leave for a few years and when you return it’s like you never left. Friends are still there, the places are the same. Time stops in L.A. You can always know what to expect.
She has a house now. It’s not a mansion or anything, but it’s nice.
CSI is CSI; it sits in it’s own untouchable bubble, its network’s pride and joy. It’s not easy, not the slightest, and she’s had to grow up. A lot.
(It’s the science that throws her. Words she can barely pronounce roll off the tongue and inappropriate footwear is essential. She suggested a ‘Casual Friday’ thing to the writers, but she’s not holding her breath.)
You happy, mate? He asks her from the other side of the country. She smiles, imagining him swirling his drink and Chace snoring from the other room. It’s 2am and these conversations are more and more frequent as the weeks go by.
(She misses that show more than she’d like to admit.)
She can’t help but smile into the receiver.
You know me, can’t complain.
Truth be told, she knows (back then, even) that Gossip Girl isn’t the be all and end all of TV dramas. She knows that whatever happens, he’ll land on his feet, she’ll stay afloat and things will be fine.
Worst comes to worse, they’ll just ride Chace’s pretty coat tails to the finish line.
(Their futures are bright.)
+ I hope that wasn't to creepy.
+ Title taken from 'Do-do's and Woah-oh's' by Kisschasy
+ Reviews are always quite nice.