Between Takes
Chapter 2 (Part 2)
Warnings!: None!
Chapter Summary: Damien expects Monday to be like any other shoot day. Then Smosh Games gets a new producer. Throughout Y/N's first day, he finds himself noticing more than he expected.
Pairing: Damien Haas x Reader
Words: 5k
Authors Note: Welcome to Damien's POV! This chapter covers the same Monday as Chapter 1, but through his perspective to show Y/N's first day from the other side of the camera. I tried to keep the Smosh workplace and personalities as true to life as possible. This ran long, so I split it into chapters to pace Y/N's introduction into the Games crew. I'm a bit nervous about this one, so please let me know your thoughts or suggestions!
Chapter 2 (Part 2)
The game rolls on.
Another round.
Another burst of laughter.
Another caption that somehow spirals into an entirely different conversation before Spencer gently steers everyone back on track.
Between rounds, while the cast debates whether someone actually deserved a point, Damien catches the new producer quietly observing the reset.
She isn't rushing to help.
She isn't standing around looking lost either.
She's simply...
Watching.
Following the crew as they move through their jobs.
Learning the rhythm before trying to become part of it.
Across video village, Alex notices the same thing.
He leans a little closer to Spencer, keeping his voice low enough that the cast can't hear.
"You usually stop people from making suggestions on their first day."
Spencer doesn't take his eyes off the monitors.
"Usually."
"You're just... letting her."
A beat.
"...She's asking first."
Alex glances toward the new producer.
"So?"
Spencer finally looks over.
She's waiting beside the monitors, attention fixed on the crew resetting the table instead of trying to jump in.
"If someone asks before changing something..." Spencer says quietly, "...they're trying to learn."
His gaze returns to the screens.
"That's different."
Alex nods slowly.
"I guess."
Another moment passes before Spencer speaks again.
"...Besides."
"If someone's making the day easier..."
He gives a small shrug.
"I'm not going to stop them."
A beat.
"...You should probably start worrying, though."
Alex looked over.
"Why?"
Spencer smirked.
"She's already making you look inefficient."
That earns the faintest smirk from Alex.
"You said it."
Damien can't help smiling to himself.
That sounded about right.
Spencer wasn't difficult to impress.
He just respected people who paid attention.
And from everything Damien had seen that morning...
She'd been paying attention since the moment she'd walked through the door.
A few minutes pass.
"And... cut."
The red tally lights blink off.
Almost instantly, the room changes.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
The cast relaxes back into their chairs as conversations overlap once more.
Crew members step onto the floor almost on instinct.
Memory cards.
Camera batteries.
Microphones.
Props.
Everyone slips back into motion without needing to be told.
Damien has always liked that part.
From the outside, it probably looks messy.
To him...
It's choreography.
Keith is still laughing about something Angela said.
Amanda nearly spits out her water trying not to laugh again.
Chanse is already stacking cards into neat piles while Arasha quietly watches the chaos unfold with an amused smile.
Business as usual.
His attention drifts back toward the new producer.
For the first time since filming started...
She moves.
Not quickly.
Not because she thinks she has to.
She simply notices everyone else resetting and takes a cautious step toward the table.
"I can grab these."
She reaches for one of the card boxes.
Alex is beside her before she can lift it.
"Hold up."
She freezes immediately.
"...Sorry."
"No, you're good."
Alex smiles as he gently takes the box from her hands.
"Those have to go back in a specific order."
Damien watches her expression change.
Not embarrassed.
Curious.
"...Seriously?"
"Continuity."
"Oh."
She nods once, immediately withdrawing her hands.
"That... actually makes sense."
"It catches everybody."
"I should've asked first."
Alex shrugs.
"Now you know."
And that was that.
No lecture.
No frustration.
Just another thing learned.
Damien watches her smile to herself before stepping back, already looking for something else she can do.
She doesn't seem discouraged.
If anything...
She looks relieved to have learned it now instead of later.
He finds himself smiling too.
That's probably the healthiest response to making a mistake on a first day he'd seen in a long time.
Damien heads over to help coil one of the camera cables while the rest of the crew resets the stage.
The work is familiar.
Wrap.
Velcro.
Stack.
Repeat.
By the time he finishes, Spencer has wandered over to the new producer.
"You survived."
She lets out a small laugh.
"Barely."
"You laughed."
"...I did."
"It happens."
Damien smiles to himself.
That conversation never changes.
Every new person who worked Games eventually reached the same realization.
No matter how chaotic the shoot looked...
Somehow, it all worked.
He glances over just in time to see Alex hand her a clipboard.
"So..."
She looks down at it.
"What can I actually help with?"
Alex grins.
"See?"
"That's already the right question."
He points toward one of the storage shelves.
"Mind checking these props against the inventory list?"
"I can do that."
"Awesome."
She doesn't hesitate.
No dramatic first-day uncertainty.
No pretending she already knows where everything is.
She simply asks where to start...
and starts.
Damien watches her disappear toward the prop shelves before returning to his own work.
A few minutes later, he passes by again.
She's comparing game boxes against the clipboard.
Crossing things off one by one.
Every so often she'll pause, ask Alex a question, nod once, then continue.
Methodical.
Not fast.
Accurate.
It reminds him a little of Spencer.
Which...
Honestly explains a lot.
From somewhere across the stage, Angela calls out,
"Has anyone seen my water bottle?"
"It's literally next to you," Amanda answers.
"Oh."
A beat.
"...I knew that."
Damien chuckles under his breath.
Some things never change.
He glances toward the new producer one more time.
She hears the exchange.
Smiles to herself.
Then goes right back to checking inventory.
No hesitation.
No uncertainty.
Just...
Working.
For someone who'd only been here a few hours...
She already looked like part of the crew.
–
"Food!"
Angela's voice carries across the studio without even trying.
Every head turns.
Amanda appears in the doorway a second later.
"Lunch!"
Damien glances toward the clock mounted above the monitors.
"...Already?"
Alex looks up from his clipboard.
"Huh."
"It really is."
Across the stage, Amanda immediately spots the new producer.
"There she is."
Angela points dramatically.
"Our lunch hostage."
The new producer blinks.
"I'm beginning to think that's not how friendship works."
"It absolutely is," Angela replies without missing a beat.
Amanda smiles.
"You promised."
"I don't remember promising."
"You smiled."
"...That's legally binding."
"I don't think it is."
Angela gasps.
"She's questioning the rules already."
"I've been here for..." She checks her watch.
"...Three hours."
"And already causing problems."
"I asked one question."
"It starts with questions."
Amanda nods solemnly.
"Then suddenly you're hiding snacks from everyone."
"I don't even know where the snacks are."
"We'll teach you."
Damien watches Alex glance toward her.
"Go."
She looks surprised.
"...Really?"
"It's your lunch."
"The work will still be here afterward."
A tiny smile crosses her face.
"Thanks."
Alex waves her off.
"Have fun."
Spencer raises his nearly empty can of Kickstart.
"My condolences."
Angela points at him.
"He's jealous because he's not invited."
"I absolutely am."
"You could've been."
"I enjoy silence too much."
"Fair."
Before the new producer can protest, Amanda loops an arm through hers.
"Come on."
"We have questions."
"So many questions."
Angela slips onto her other side.
"Oh no."
The new producer laughs.
"Should I be scared?"
Amanda smiles sweetly.
"No."
Angela grins.
"...Maybe a little."
Still laughing, she lets herself be guided toward the hallway.
Damien watches the three disappear through the studio doors, their conversation already veering into something he can't quite make out.
"...Well."
The stage feels noticeably quieter.
For about three seconds.
Keith stretches in his chair.
"I've never seen Angela adopt someone that fast."
"Speedrun," Chanse says.
Amanda's laughter echoes faintly from the hallway.
Arasha simply shrugs.
"She's efficient."
The cast begins filtering toward the kitchen as well, leaving only the crew behind video village.
Damien leans against one of the tables, watching Spencer organize a stack of notes.
"So."
Spencer doesn't look up.
"So."
Damien nods toward the hallway.
"What do you think?"
Spencer glances up.
"...About Y/N?"
It takes Damien half a second to realize that's her name.
"Yeah."
Spencer sets the notes down.
"She's observant."
"That's the first thing I noticed."
Damien nods.
"Same."
Alex walks past carrying a camera battery.
"And she asks before changing anything."
Spencer nods once.
"Which is why I let her."
Damien folds his arms.
"You usually don't."
"No."
"I don't."
A small shrug.
"But she's not trying to prove she's the smartest person in the room."
"She's trying to understand why we do things."
Alex smiles.
"Which, honestly..."
"...is a nice change."
Spencer glances toward the now-empty doorway.
"She'll make mistakes."
"Everybody does."
"But she listens."
He picks up another checklist.
"That's harder to teach than production."
Damien lets that settle for a moment.
"...Think she'll fit in?"
Spencer doesn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looks out across the stage where the remaining crew continue resetting equipment with practiced efficiency.
Finally—
"Yeah."
A simple answer.
No hesitation.
"Yeah."
Damien finds himself smiling.
Y/N.
The name settles surprisingly easily in his mind.
He'd been thinking the same thing since she'd pointed out Camera B that morning.
Not because she'd caught something everyone else missed.
Because she'd cared enough to notice in the first place.
For a few seconds, nobody says anything.
They simply return to work.
Alex disappears toward one of the camera carts with a fresh stack of batteries.
Spencer flips through tomorrow's shot notes, already making small corrections in the margins.
Damien watches them for a moment before pushing himself away from the table.
"...Well."
Spencer hums without looking up.
"I'm going to grab lunch before Angela starts stealing food."
Alex laughs from across the stage.
"Bold of you to assume she hasn't already."
He reaches down for his backpack, slinging it over one shoulder before he leaves the room.
As he heads toward the hallway, the studio behind him settles into its usual lunchtime lull.
A few crew members linger to finish resetting equipment.
Others drift toward the kitchen in small groups, conversations already picking back up.
Damien takes another sip of vanilla milk as he walks.
He can already hear Angela's voice before he reaches the kitchen.
Not the words.
Just...
Angela.
He rounds the corner.
By the time he reaches the doorway, the conversation inside has already wandered somewhere completely unexpected.
"...Do you like garlic bread?"
Damien pauses just outside the room.
...
Somehow...
That felt like exactly the sort of question Angela would ask someone she'd known for all of three hours.
He steps inside.
The room is noticeably busier than it had been earlier that morning.
The smell of reheated leftovers mingles with fresh coffee and instant ramen.
Crew members occupy nearly every table, conversations overlapping into a comfortable wall of background noise.
Near the center of the room, Angela and Amanda have already claimed a table.
Y/N sits between them, lunch container finally open.
"...That's somehow exactly what I expected," she says with a laugh.
Damien doesn't catch whatever prompted the response.
Judging by Angela's expression...
It probably wasn't important.
He makes his way to the refrigerator, setting his backpack on the counter before pulling out his lunch.
Chicken.
Rice.
An apple.
Simple.
He grabs a fork from the drawer before twisting open his bottle of vanilla milk.
Routine.
As he turns back toward the tables, Amanda notices him first.
She smiles.
"Hey."
"Hey."
Angela glances over for barely a second before immediately returning to whatever she'd been saying.
"...Anyway."
Damien smiles to himself.
Some greetings never needed to be longer than a word.
He slides into the empty chair beside them, quietly unpacking his lunch while the conversation continues around him.
Nobody pauses to explain what he'd missed.
Nobody feels the need to restart the conversation.
Another small thing Damien appreciates about the people here.
If you joined halfway through a discussion...
You either caught up...
Or you didn't.
He takes his first bite just as Angela points dramatically across the table.
"So..."
Damien doesn't even have to look up.
He already knows who's being addressed.
"...Favorite musical."
The question earns an immediate laugh from Y/N.
"...That's evil."
"It is," Amanda agrees. "Answer anyway."
Damien quietly stabs another piece of chicken with his fork.
He has absolutely no intention of answering if Angela redirects the question toward him.
"Depends on the day."
"Boooo," Angela says immediately.
"No, seriously."
Y/N begins counting on her fingers.
"If I want to cry? Hadestown."
Amanda nods.
"If I want to feel inspired? Hamilton."
"Solid."
"And if I just want to have fun..."
She smiles.
"Something Rotten."
Angela slaps the table.
"YES!"
"I knew I liked you!"
Amanda looks between them.
"I have absolutely no idea what's happening."
Angela stares.
"You've never seen Something Rotten?"
Amanda shakes her head.
"I'll fix that."
Damien finally looks up from his lunch.
"I've never seen it either."
Three pairs of eyes immediately swing toward him.
Angela freezes.
She looks at him.
Then Amanda.
Then back at him.
"...What do you people do?"
Damien shrugs.
"Other things."
It isn't entirely true.
He knows Something Rotten by reputation.
He just never got around to seeing it.
Apparently, that answer is somehow more offensive.
Keith wanders into the kitchen at exactly the wrong moment.
He looks around the table.
"...Is this another theatre conversation?"
Angela points dramatically toward Y/N.
"She's one of us."
Keith doesn't even hesitate.
He looks directly at Y/N.
"...Run."
Laughter breaks around the table.
Just like that, the conversation abandons favorite musicals entirely.
Now they're debating movie adaptations.
"They butchered Dear Evan Hansen," Angela declares dramatically.
Amanda nods.
"Objectively."
"I've never recovered."
Keith points his fork toward her.
"You say that every time someone mentions the movie."
"Because I'm still grieving."
"You weren't in it."
"I could've been emotionally."
Damien quietly eats another bite of lunch, perfectly content to let everyone else argue.
From the corner of his eye, though...
He notices Y/N laughing into her water bottle.
Not politely.
Not because she feels like she has to.
She's actually laughing now.
Amanda notices too.
"Oh, good."
"You laugh."
Y/N lowers her bottle.
"...I was worried we scared you."
"I was a little scared."
"Were?"
"I've accepted my fate."
Angela points triumphantly.
"See?"
"She's adapting."
Damien smiles to himself.
That was probably the fastest he'd ever seen someone adjust to Angela's energy.
A few minutes later, Chanse wanders into the kitchen.
He heads straight for the refrigerator before glancing toward Y/N.
"So."
He closes the fridge with a drink in hand.
"You're the new producer."
She nods.
"I am."
"First impressions?"
Y/N thinks about it for a moment.
"...Everyone's a lot louder than I expected."
Amanda places a hand over her chest.
"We're delightful."
Damien doesn't even look up from his lunch.
"They're loud."
A napkin immediately bounces off his shoulder.
He barely reacts.
Called it.
Arasha walks into the kitchen not long after.
She opens the refrigerator.
Looks inside.
Closes it again.
"...Someone stole my yogurt."
Silence.
Keith very deliberately looks away.
Amanda bursts into laughter.
Angela points across the room without hesitation.
"It was him."
Keith raises both hands.
"I've been framed."
"No jury would believe you."
The table erupts again.
Damien catches Y/N laughing with everyone else.
Not the careful, polite laugh she'd been giving that morning.
A real one.
It isn't because of any single joke.
It's because everyone keeps building on each other's jokes without missing a beat.
Nobody seems worried about sounding ridiculous.
Around this table...
Ridiculous is practically encouraged.
Amanda is the first to notice the change.
"So..."
She smiles at Y/N.
"How's the first day actually going?"
That question lands differently.
Y/N looks down at her lunch for a second before answering.
"...Better than I expected."
"In what way?"
She hesitates.
Just for a moment.
"I spent the entire drive here convincing myself everyone was going to think I didn't deserve to be here."
The table quiets.
Not awkwardly.
Just...
Listening.
Damien sets his fork down.
Amanda smiles first.
"I think everyone feels that."
Keith nods.
"I still feel that sometimes."
Angela raises her hand.
"I actively assume I'm getting fired every Thursday."
"You've said that every Thursday for like..."
Amanda pretends to count.
"...Two years."
"And yet."
Angela spreads her arms dramatically.
"I'm still here."
A small smile tugs at the corner of Damien's mouth.
Some things never changed.
Y/N looks around the table, like she's trying to decide whether everyone is joking.
They aren't.
Not this time.
He speaks before he really thinks about it.
"Impostor syndrome doesn't disappear."
Her eyes lift to his.
"You just eventually realize everyone else has it too."
"...Really?"
He nods once.
"Really."
He doesn't elaborate.
He doesn't need to.
For a second, he watches something ease in her expression.
Not all at once.
Just enough.
Amanda smiles.
"Besides..."
"You've survived three hours."
Angela nods enthusiastically.
"And Spencer hasn't cried."
Y/N blinks.
"I don't think Spencer cries."
"You'd be surprised."
Laughter fills the room again.
Damien quietly returns to his lunch.
Across the table, Y/N laughs with everyone else without a second thought.
Sometime during the conversation...
She'd stopped looking like someone trying to survive her first day.
She just looked...
Like part of the table.
A few more minutes pass before another voice joins the conversation.
"Stealing my producer?"
Damien glances toward the doorway.
Spencer.
Angela frowned.
"Legally she's ours now."
"I checked."
Spencer nodded.
"I also checked."
"...Unfortunately she's Games."
Amanda sighed dramatically.
"Fine."
She stood and pulled Y/N into a quick hug.
"Come sit with us tomorrow."
"I'd like that."
Angela grinned.
"Perfect."
She pointed dramatically.
"Congratulations."
"...You've been adopted."
Y/N laughed.
"That seems to be happening a lot today."
"It only gets worse," Damien says as he stands, collecting his empty vanilla milk bottle.
He catches Y/N's eye and smiles.
"See you this afternoon."
"See you."
The kitchen begins to empty around them.
Angela tosses her Lunchable packaging into the trash.
Amanda neatly stacks her containers back into her lunch bag.
Keith wanders out with Chanse, somehow still trying to defend himself against the stolen-yogurt allegations.
Damien can't help smiling.
Some arguments never really ended.
He drops his empty bottle into the recycling bin before slipping his backpack over one shoulder.
Near the doorway, Spencer waits for Y/N without rushing her.
"Ready?"
Y/N looks up.
"As I'll ever be."
Damien steps into the hallway first, giving the two of them room to follow.
By the time the kitchen door swings shut behind him, Angela is already saying something that makes the room erupt into laughter again.
He smiles to himself.
Y/N had walked into Smosh only a few hours ago.
Somehow...
It already felt like she'd always been sitting at that table.
–
The afternoon settles back into its own rhythm.
Lunch chatter fades.
The studio fills once again with the quieter sounds of people working.
Damien drifts between small tasks.
Helping reset shelves.
Carrying equipment back to storage.
Answering the occasional question.
Nothing particularly exciting.
Just...
Monday.
Every now and then, though, he catches sight of Y/N across the studio.
Usually beside Spencer or Alex.
Notebook still in hand.
Still writing.
By the third time he passes them, Alex laughs.
"You know..."
"You really don't have to write down everything."
Y/N doesn't even look up from the page.
"I know."
"...You're still going to."
"I absolutely am."
Alex laughs.
"I respect it."
Damien smiles to himself as he keeps walking.
Some habits were probably impossible to break.
—
A little while later, another production assistant looks around the room.
"Does anyone have a Sharpie?"
Almost immediately—
"I do."
Damien glances over.
Y/N is already digging through her bag.
The marker changes hands.
Problem solved.
Five minutes later—
"Anybody have hand sanitizer?"
"...I do."
Again.
Another minute.
"I think I scraped my hand."
"I've got Band-Aids."
Damien pauses in the middle of labeling a storage bin.
...
Seriously?
Around the room, a few crew members exchange amused looks.
Angela slowly turns toward Y/N.
"...Hang on."
She points dramatically at the bag.
"What's actually in there?"
Damien has a feeling this is about to become a conversation.
He isn't disappointed.
"I've been wondering the same thing," Alex admits.
Y/N blinks.
"...Stuff?"
Amanda folds her arms.
"What kind of stuff?"
Y/N shrugs before unzipping the bag.
"The usual."
"The usual?" Spencer repeats.
She starts listing items.
"Notebook."
"Makes sense."
"Pens."
"Reasonable."
"Portable charger."
"Wall charger."
"Power bank."
Alex nods.
"I like where this is going."
"Umbrella."
"It's California," Spencer reminds her.
"I know."
"First-aid kit."
"Painkillers."
"Allergy medicine."
"Hair ties."
"Emergency deodorant."
"Tissues."
"Stain-removal wipes."
"...Tiny sewing kit."
Silence.
Damien blinks.
...She's carrying a sewing kit?
Angela stares into the bag like she's witnessing a magic trick.
"...Is your purse just Mary Poppins?"
Y/N looks down thoughtfully.
"...I've been called worse."
Amanda bursts into laughter.
"I love her."
Spencer shakes his head.
"I take back everything I said."
"You never said anything."
"I was thinking it."
Alex laughs.
"I've worked here for years and somehow she's still more prepared than I am."
Y/N smiles sheepishly.
"I just don't like being caught off guard."
Spencer nods.
"...That's probably going to come in handy around here."
Damien quietly files that away.
Prepared.
It fit everything else he'd seen today.
The notebook.
The questions.
The way she'd looked at the set before she'd looked at the people.
Nothing she'd done had been flashy.
She just...
Liked being ready.
—
The afternoon slips by before Damien really notices.
Questions.
Answers.
Equipment moving from one shelf to another.
People coming and going.
By now, Y/N isn't glued to Spencer and Alex quite as closely.
They're letting her wander a little.
Close enough to ask questions.
Far enough to start learning the building herself.
Damien rounds a corner carrying a bundle of cables when something catches his eye.
A stack of board game boxes.
Walking.
Very slowly.
He immediately recognizes who's behind them.
Y/N.
The boxes are stacked just high enough to block most of her view.
...
That probably isn't going to end well.
He takes another step—
Then notices the camera cable stretched across the floor directly in front of her.
"...Careful."
Y/N stops so abruptly the boxes shift slightly in her arms.
She looks down.
A camera cable stretches across the floor.
"...Oh."
"I didn't even see that."
Damien reaches over before she can awkwardly shuffle around it, lifting the top half of the stack from her arms.
The weight disappears almost immediately.
She looks up.
Recognition flashes across her face.
"...Thanks."
"You've got a blind spot."
He nods toward the boxes still in her arms.
"...Right."
"I guess I do."
He steps over the cable first.
She follows a second later.
Neither of them says much.
There isn't really anything to say.
The storage shelves are only a few steps away.
Damien sets his stack down before she can ask where they belong.
"These go here."
He taps the shelf once.
"The expansion packs are underneath."
Y/N glances at the labels before nodding.
"...Good to know."
A small nod is all he gives in return.
He turns to head back toward the studio.
"...Damien?"
He pauses and looks back.
"Thanks."
"No problem."
He starts walking again.
Then something occurs to him.
"...Also."
She waits.
"The glasses."
Y/N blinks.
"...My glasses?"
He gestures vaguely toward his own face.
"I almost didn't recognize you."
For a second she just stares.
Then she laughs.
"Oh."
"I only wear them when I'm working."
That explains it.
Friday she'd been carrying interview nerves.
Today she looked...
Different.
The glasses softened something about her.
Made her look a little more approachable.
A little more...
He catches himself before finishing the thought.
...They suited her.
But that wasn't really what stood out.
She looked comfortable.
Like she'd finally stopped waiting for someone to tell her she didn't belong.
"Makes sense."
He gives another small nod before continuing back toward the stage.
Behind him, he hears Spencer's voice.
"Something wrong?"
"No."
Y/N's answer comes with a smile he can hear without seeing.
"Nothing."
Damien smiles faintly to himself.
Apparently he'd interrupted whatever she'd been about to do.
Hopefully not for long.
—
The rest of the afternoon passes the way most afternoons at Smosh do.
Questions, answers, and the occasional correction.
People crossing paths every few minutes.
Someone asks where a game expansion disappeared to.
Someone else spends three minutes looking for a roll of tape before discovering it had been sitting beside them the entire time.
Normal.
From time to time, Damien catches sight of Y/N still shadowing Spencer and Alex.
Not as closely as she had that morning.
They've started letting her figure small things out on her own.
When she reaches for the wrong storage shelf with a case of cables, Alex notices immediately.
"Close."
He points toward another section of shelving.
"Wrong wall."
Y/N steps back at once.
"Sorry."
"No need to apologize."
Alex smiles.
"That's why you're shadowing us."
And just like that...
The moment is over.
No frustration.
No lecture.
Just another lesson added to the list.
Damien watches her nod once before moving the case to the correct shelf.
She doesn't look embarrassed.
She just...
Adjusts.
Learns.
Keeps going.
It fits everything else he's noticed about her today.
She asks.
She listens.
She remembers.
By the time the afternoon begins winding down, her notebook has somehow accumulated even more pages of handwriting than it had before lunch.
Damien isn't entirely convinced there are that many notes worth taking.
Then again...
Judging by how smoothly her first day has gone...
Maybe there are.
The afternoon eventually gives way to evening.
Not all at once.
Just gradually.
Camera batteries find their chargers.
Microphones disappear into cases.
Someone starts wiping down the Board AF table while another crew member updates tomorrow's call sheet.
The familiar rhythm of wrapping a shoot settles over the studio.
Damien carries another stack of game boxes toward storage before returning an empty cart to the wall.
Around him, conversations drift away from work.
Somewhere across the room...
Angela is passionately arguing that a spoon is the most underrated utensil in the building.
Keith looks personally insulted by the implication that forks are not enough.
Amanda is laughing too hard to contribute anything useful.
Nobody seems particularly interested in stopping the debate.
Normal.
As Damien passes video village, he notices Ian standing near the doorway, coffee mug still somehow in hand.
Y/N is talking with him.
He catches only fragments as he walks by.
"...really good."
Ian smiles.
"I'm glad."
Damien keeps moving.
It isn't really his conversation to listen to.
By the time he finishes shelving the last game box, another burst of laughter drifts across the studio.
He glances over.
Ian is looking into Y/N's seemingly endless bag.
"...You carry all of that?"
Y/N says something Damien can't quite hear.
Ian laughs.
Not a polite chuckle.
A genuine one.
Spencer wanders past just then.
Ian gestures toward the open bag.
Spencer peers inside.
Whatever he sees earns an approving nod.
"...Honestly?"
"Respect."
Damien smiles to himself.
Of course.
If there were an emergency involving office supplies, first aid, electronics, weather, or spontaneous tailoring...
Y/N probably had it covered.
A few minutes later, Y/N is the first one to leave.
Ian gives her shoulder a light pat as she heads for the door, and she pauses just long enough to wave goodbye to the room.
"See you tomorrow," she says.
A few voices answer at once.
"See you tomorrow."
"Good job today."
"Get some rest."
Then she's gone, slipping out into the evening air with her notebook tucked under one arm and her bag over the other shoulder.
Damien watches the door for a second longer than he means to.
Around him, the studio doesn't empty right away.
If anything, it simply shifts.
People linger.
Spencer, Alex, Amanda, Keith, Angela, and Ian all seem to drift toward the center of the room like they have somewhere to be that isn't actually outside.
A second later, Shayne and Courtney wander over too, curiosity written all over both of their faces.
"Okay," Shayne says, looking between the others. "So how did the new shadow survive her first day?"
Courtney folds their arms, amused. "And more importantly, did she actually take notes on everything?"
Damien catches the beginning of the conversation as he slips his backpack over one shoulder.
"She did really well," Amanda says.
"Seriously," Spencer agrees. "For a first day, she picked things up fast."
"She asked good questions," Alex adds.
"Better questions than some people who've been here longer," Keith says, earning a few laughs.
Angela nods emphatically. "And she was prepared. Like, aggressively prepared."
Ian smiles into his coffee. "I was not expecting the emergency sewing kit."
"Nobody was," Spencer says.
"Still kind of impressive," Amanda admits.
"She was easy to work with," Alex says. "Didn't act like she knew everything, but she wasn't afraid to jump in either."
"Yeah," Ian says, glancing toward the door Y/N had just gone through. "I think she's going to fit in just fine."
Shayne lets out a low whistle. "That's a pretty solid first-day review."
Courtney nods. "Honestly, that's rare."
Damien pauses near the edge of the conversation, listening as the compliments keep coming.
Nothing dramatic.
Just the kind of honest, offhand praise people only give when they mean it.
His eyes drift back toward the exit, then says, quietly, "The first day isn't really about proving you can do the job."
He shrugs.
"It's more about whether people actually give you room to learn it."
A few people glance his way.
He gives a small shrug, like he's trying to make the point sound less dramatic than it is.
"And whether the person asking questions is actually listening to the answers," he adds, a little drier. "Which, in my experience, is annoyingly useful."
That earns a couple of thoughtful hums, and Spencer nods once like that makes more sense than anything else anyone's said all day.
Damien looks toward the exit again, imagining Y/N already halfway to her car, probably with her notebook still in hand and tomorrow's questions already forming in her head.
He'd noticed that about her today.
The way she listened.
The way she kept track of everything.
The way she seemed to be collecting the room one detail at a time.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't obvious.
Just... different.
By the time the conversation starts winding down, Damien is the last one still standing near the stage.
Tomorrow would be another shoot.
Another busy day.
Another hundred little things that needed doing.
Something tells him...
Y/N will probably have another notebook ready.