fic: Stop, Drop and Roll (rpf)
Title: Stop, Drop and Roll
Author:
notfar
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4,014
Disclaimer: Don’t own Glee and this never happened
Spoilers: Up to 2x05
Notes: Unbeta'd. I promised myself I wouldn't write RPF when I got into this fandom. At least I held out a few months... (Also, the title has nothing to do with anything)
Summary: RPF. Five times somebody picked Chris Colfer up, and one time he refused to be carried. Originally posted here at the
glee_fluff_meme .
-
1. Cory
It’s somewhat of a reunion when the whole cast comes together to shoot the promo photos for season two. The summer hiatus isn’t nearly as long as that of any other show – the live tour took a sizable chunk out of it, and then there were the Emmy’s, and Cory’s been away almost the entire time shooting Monte Carlo. A few months apart is a big deal when they’ve spent the past year together pretty much constantly, so having the entire cast minus Di, plus the producers and the hair/makeup/wardrobe girls all in the one warehouse to work together for the day is something to celebrate.
The final shot of the day has the whole cast in football uniforms. It’s kind of funny, seeing everyone drowning in the oversized red shirts. At the last minute, the Fox guy steps in and asks if they can set up a scene with just the New Directions girls before they pack up for the day. Nobody objects; Lea, Jenna and Amber are pretty darn adorable in the uniforms, and Naya and Heather have been shaking their pom-poms in people’s faces all day, clearly pleased to be official cast members.
The TV-adults take their leave, but Cory hangs back to watch, and most of the guys do as well.
“We should get dinner after they’re done,” he says, and the suggestion is greeted with agreement from everyone as they sit down by the catering table. Kevin pulls out his iPad, Mark pulls out his phone, and Dijon and Harry head over to talk to the DJ. Which leaves Chris. Cory grins.
Chris raises an eyebrow. “That’s your mischief-making face.”
“No way. It’s my tell-me-something-exciting-Chris-Colfer face.”
“Last night I learnt why Amber should never get to pick the movie,” Chris offers, stifling a yawn with his palm. “Paranormal Activity.”
“Bad?”
Chris screws up his nose. “Not my thing. And not Amber or Jenna’s thing either. They refused to leave when it was over.”
Cory laughs. “Sleepover?”
“We stayed up all night with the lights on.”
“Aww,” Cory says, and reaches over to mess with Chris’ hair in a way that Kurt Hummel would loathe, but Chris seems unbothered by. “No wonder you got through three diet cokes today.”
“More like five,” Chris mutters, and drops his head forward against the table.
Between hair and makeup and figuring out the arrangements and backdrops, since this wasn’t a shot they’d planned, it’s another hour before they girls are done. In that time, the DJ has gone home, catering is completely packed up, and Harry and Dijon have run out of ways to amuse themselves.
Chris hasn’t moved.
“Aww,” Lea says, coming up beside Cory, her hair swept up into a bun behind her. “Doesn’t he look innocent.”
“I don’t want to wake him,” Cory tells her, but with the shoot officially wrapped, people are packing up at hyper-speed and they kind of do need to leave.
“He’s too cute to move,” Lea agrees. Everyone’s milling around, waiting to see what the plan for the night is, and when Cory invites the girls to come out to dinner, the response is unanimously enthusiastic. Then everyone else notices Chris – who is out like a light, curled up in the oversized jersey - and Lea’s not the only one cooing at him.
Cory snaps a photo of Chris on his iPhone before the chorus of awwws can wake him up. “Now the moment is immortalised. So where are we going for dinner? And did he drive here?”
“Amber drove Chris and I here,” Jenna says, grinning. “And I vote sushi.”
“That makes life easy then,” Cory says, standing up. Chris might've had a growth spurt over the summer, but he’s still far from being Frankenteen-sized. He seems tiny still, and weighs barely anything, at least to Cory. His current position, slumped forward against the tabletop, makes it easy for Cory to scoop him up.
Chris wakes up the moment Cory lifts him up, head leaning against Cory’s shoulders and cradled in his arms.
“Wha – oh my god, Cory, put me down,” he says, somehow sounding even younger in his barely-awake state. Everyone laughs, no longer worried about waking him up.
“Nah,” Cory tells him, walking towards the door. “You’re too tired to walk.”
With everyone’s eyes on him, Chris blushes bright red. “I’m really not. You couldn’t just poke me in the shoulder or shout at me to wake up like a normal person?”
“Nope,” Cory replies. Lea’s got her phone out, pointed in their direction, giggling wildly. Cory grins for the camera. Chris just groans, dropping his head back against Cory’s chest.
“Please put me down?”
“Out of the question,” Cory says, letting the girls go ahead to make sure the parking lot is paparazzi-free. The higher-ups would probably frown on a picture of him carting Chris around like a child, and Chris probably wouldn’t approve of a photo like that finding its way onto the blogs.
That doesn’t stop him uploading the photo of Chris sleeping to twitter. It’s totally worth risking Chris’ wrath.
2. Harry
They’re shooting the Britney episode when Chris walks onto the soundstage wearing what looks very much like a skirt.
“Nice skirt,” Kevin says immediately. “Skirt? Kilt? Man-skirt? Fashionable hip-wrap?”
“I decided I didn’t want to know,” Chris replies. “I stopped questioning the outfits a long time ago.”
“Well it looks lovely,” Kevin tells him.
Chris laughs, and rolls his eyes. “Thanks.”
The scene they’re shooting is dialogue-heavy; Mr Schuester talking to everyone in the choir room, ending with Kurt storming out to the principal’s office. There’s no singing whatsoever, so it’s basic enough to shoot, but it requires multiple angles and reaction shots from just about everyone, which means a lot of time spent in-between takes setting up lights, tracking and cameras.
The crew blares music while they do this – Britney Spears, appropriately- and Harry pulls Kevin out of his wheelchair and into a dance-off immediately. Nobody can beat Harry, but Kevin can hold his own to Womanizer pretty damn well. Chris is impressed, as always. He sits in the top row of chairs whenever he can help it for that very reason – not that anyone would ever try to pull him into a dance-off, but freestyling is not at all his thing. He’d be lucky if he could beat Cory if it came down to it.
The next time Ryan calls cut, Naya and Heather get into it as well - If You Seek Amy - and by the time Crazy comes on, everybody’s on the floor. Chris lets Lea and Amber pull him out, because he can dance if nobody’s watching, and Lea’s hard to say no to.
The stereo volume is maxed out and the crew have all but stopped working to watch the show instead. Harry dances circles around everyone – literally – until he comes to a stop in front of Chris. Chris is spinning on the spot - pretty much the only move he really has - sandwiched between Naya and Jenna. The pleats on his skirt billow out around him, and Harry grabs his arm, twirling him faster.
“Just like a ballerina,” Kevin calls out over the music. Harry grins at Kevin, raises one eyebrow then puts his hands on Chris’ waist, picking him up.
“Whoa,” Chris laughs, then stretches his arms out and arches his back into the lift, head leaning back to match the curve of his spine like a ballet dancer. Harry spins him around, then sets him back down gracefully, like lifting another guy his height is no sweat at all.
“That’d look awesome with a run-up,” Harry tells him, cocking his head to the side like it’s something Chris would actually consider. It’s not.
“Right up until I trip and knock us both over.”
“Practice makes perfect,” Harry tells him, and Chris grins at him before he lets Heather pull him away into another twirl.
3. Naya and Dianna
Filming solos is always exhausting. Dianna’s only had to do it a couple of times – which is fine with her, because she knows she can sing, but she’s always considered herself an actor before a vocalist – and she’s always slept well after filming them. It’s not the hours so much, just the focus required, and the heat of the light centred on you, and the energy used getting every single shot just right.
It’s also exhausting having to cry on camera take after take. Playing a pregnant teenager taught her that very quickly. She has no idea how Chris does it so well. Understandably, he looks pretty wiped when they come to filming Grilled Cheesus. An entire episode of Kurt crying, and crying, and singing, and singing and crying, and more crying, and more singing. He holds out admirably, but starts drooping noticeably about halfway through the eight-day filming schedule.
Dianna does what she can – bringing diet coke when he looks like he needs it and curling up beside him in between takes to make sure he’s actually okay. He is; Chris is tough, and a brilliant actor. He’s perfectly capable of shooting fifteen takes of a crying-by-a-comatose-father’s-bedside scene without having to drag out any childhood trauma to make the tears flow. Dianna just likes to make sure.
It’s nearing the end of the week, and all that’s left is to film I Want To Hold Your Hand and One of Us. They’re shooting both on the same day, or planning to. It’s ambitious, but by no means extreme by Glee standards.
Lea sheds almost as many tears watching Hold Your Hand as Chris does singing it. At the end of every take, she’s up out of her chair and wrapped around him almost instantly. She clings to him until she’s forced so sit back down and let the make-up people come in and do touch-ups. Dianna knows the feeling. The shakiness in Chris’ voice doesn’t disappear when the cameras stop rolling.
Finally they’re done; breaking for a late lunch and wardrobe before they shoot the last scene of the episode.
One of Us has essentially no choreography. Just lots of crane shots, and lots of close-ups. And it’s hot in the auditorium. Like, unreasonably hot. They’re pumping in the air-con, but in such a large space, it’s largely ineffective.
In between takes, everyone goes back to their starting marks and collapses on the stage floor. Dianna looks to Chris, stretched out on his back, hand-held fan up to his face.
“You okay baby?”
“Mmmm, I’m fine,” he tells her. On the other side of him, Naya strokes his arm. Chris is wearing a shirt, tie and cardigan in this scene, and Dianna does not envy him. She’d hold his hand, but it’s just too hot.
Hours later, when they’re finally, finally done, and Alfonzo’s called it a wrap, everybody drops down onto the floor.
“Bring on the weekend,” Naya sighs, somehow managing to sprawl in a short skirt without looking alarmingly slutty. Dianna’s grateful for her jeans; she can bend her knees and tilt her head back to find Chris.
He grins when he catches her looking. His eyes are barely open. “I’m gonna sleep all day tomorrow.”
“You’ve earned it,” she says, fanning herself with her hand. “It’s so stuffy in here. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
“Word,” Naya says, sitting up.
Chris scrunches his eyes shut. “Maybe I’ll just lie here all weekend.”
“You’re going to your trailer at least,” Dianna says, standing up.
Chris makes a sad face. “You’re such a harsh taskmaster. Trailers mean sitting up, and walking, and being awake…”
“Up,” Dianna commands, taking one of his hands. Naya grabs the other, and they haul him to his feet.
“Wow, headrush,” Chris says when he’s standing upright, swaying just a little.
“Don’t hurt yourself.” Dianna catches Naya’s eye, and they face each other, lacing their fingers together to creating a little platform between their bodies. “Now sit.”
Chris looks back, raising both eyebrows. “Or not. I’m fine. I just need a minute. To remember how to walk.”
“Sit,” Naya says in her best Santana voice. Chris sits. “Now put your arms around our necks. Good boy.”
“I hate you,” Chris says. Dianna laughs, and Naya grins. They both straighten up, effectively lifting Chris off the ground.
“Onwards!” Dianna shouts, and they carry him off the stage and towards the exits.
“Never mind the empty wheelchair right next to you,” Chris murmurs.
“Enough with the logic, Chrith,” Naya says.
Cory’s a few steps ahead of them, but when he sees the two of them carrying Chris on his portable throne, he stops and waits for them to catch up.
“Cool,” he says. “Can I go next?”
“Keep dreaming,” Dianna tells him. “Now move, please?”
Cory grins. “You’re no fun. Sup, Chris?”
“Nothing much,” Chris replies.
Cory nods, walking alongside them as Dianna and Naya keep moving. “You guys want some help?”
“Oh please,” Naya scoffs, “He’s tiny. I could carry him by myself.”
“Or I could,” Cory says. “Twice as fast as you guys.”
“Or I could walk,” Chris says.
“It’s cute how you think you have a choice,” Dianna tells him.
“C’mon, let me do it,” Cory says, getting down onto one knee in front of them. “Chris, climb on. I’ll get you there in two minutes.”
“Only because you have an enormous height advantage,” Dianna says as they let Chris down. “Go ahead, climb on.”
Chris looks between all three of them and sighs, rightly recognizing that there’s no chance of escape.
“Just don’t tweet about this, okay?” Chris says, and steps forward, wrapping his arms around Cory’s neck. Cory grabs his legs and stands, turning back to face Di and Naya.
“Now this is how you do it. Adios!”
Dianna waves, and watches as Cory takes off across the lot.
4. Chord and Harry
“So that was kind of cool,” Chord says, walking with Chris and Harry out of the soundstage. They’ve only just finished filming, and Chris is still wearing the two-toned tuxedo. His tassles brush against his legs as he walks.
“What was?” Mark asks, joining them as they head towards the wardrobe trailer. Puck’s in juvie for two episodes, so Mark’s been in the recording studio working on episode six instead of watching Kurt Hummel’s tribute to split personalities in the auditorium soundstage.
“This dance move,” Chord says. “These two guys lifted Chris up on their shoulders and twirled him around. I have no idea how you didn’t fall off.”
“It’s pretty easy to balance when they’re holding on to my legs,” Chris replies with a shrug.
“Seriously?” Chord doesn’t look like he’s convinced, but this is his first real taste of Glee choreography, so he can probably be forgiven. He looks to Harry for confirmation.
“It’s easy, man,” Harry says with a smile. Then again, Harry can do a backflip from standing without blinking. “You want to see how?”
“Sure,” Chord says, tilting his head towards Chris. “You mind?”
Chris shrugs. “Why not.”
“Just kneel down,” Harry instructs, going down onto one knee behind Chris. “And lean forward a bit – that’s it. And now Chris leans back against us a little, and we grab his legs. Above and below the knee, right? And we stand up again.”
Chord wobbles a little as he goes from kneeling to standing, taking Chris up on his shoulder with him, but Mark’s right in front to act as a landing cushion if things go awry. He takes a few seconds to adjust to the weight on his shoulder, then he’s fine, holding Chris up above him.
“Perfect,” Harry says. “Then we turn clockwise twice, Chris puts his hands up in the air, then we lean forwards and let him down. Easy.”
They set him back down and Chris twirls on the spot.
“Cool,” Chord says, straightening his clothes out and looking over to Mark. “What do you think, man?”
Mark grins, taking in their outfits – Chord’s casual clothes, Chris’ Victor/Victoria ensemble, Harry’s tuxedo.
“Interesting,” he says. “Nice moustache, Chris.”
5. Heather
“I need your help,” Heather says one day as they’re walking back from Kraft services together. “You’re free now, right?”
“Sure,” Chris nods, screwing the lid back on his bottle of water. “What’s up?”
“I need to practice for a scene tomorrow,” Heather says, “and Kevin’s busy today. But you’re Kevin-sized, so I figured you could be his body-double.”
“I’m so not Kevin-sized,” Chris replies. “I’m taller than you now.”
“Sure, sure,” Heather shrugs. “So, what do you say?”
Chris screws up his nose, but Heather knows it’s all for show. As if Chris would ever say no to somebody’s request for help.
“Why not.”
The dance rehearsal shed is unoccupied, and there’s always a spare wheelchair in there, so it’s pretty much perfect.
“So Artie and Brittany do it before they duet,” she tells Chris, clearing all the papers off one of the tables. “And she carries him to bed.” The lifting part she’s not so worried about – her arms are way more impressive than Mark’s – but it’s the lifting and talking at the same time part that concerns her. “I just need to figure out how Artie gets from the chair to the bed without the whole thing being super awkward.”
“Ah. I guess we’re not just running lines then,” Chris says, but he sits down in the chair without objection.
Chris is ticklish – she knows from when they shot the making-out scene last season – and he squawks the first time she lifts him up. The next time, she grabs him in the same spot deliberately, just because the face he makes when her hands squeeze under his ribs is priceless.
The third time, he wheels the chair backwards out of reach.
“You’re being all grabby on purpose.”
“I’m not.”
“You totally are.”
For all the deadpan comments she makes playing Brittany, Heather’s not great at keeping a straight face when the camera’s off.
“Definitely aren’t,” she says, trying not to laugh. She steps forward again and Chris wheels even further back.
The next time, she’s too fast for him, dashing around him and stepping down on the brake before he can try to evade again. “Take that, Colfer.”
“This is what I get for helping a friend.”
When she goes to pick him up again, she jams her fingers in under his ribs, keeping her arms locked as he tries to squirm away.
“You suck,” he says, the laughter bleeding through into his voice as she sets him down on the table and tickles him under his arms as well. He wriggles away from her until he’s practically hanging off the edge of the table.
“You’re so not good at playing a paralysed guy,” Heather tells him, grabbing his arm to keep him from falling off. “No wonder they had to write you a new character to play.”
She hauls him back into the centre of the table.
“I am never helping you out again,” Chris says, breathless. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a total disaster and now Heather totally understands why Lea and Dianna kept jumping all over him when they were shooting Jump in the mattress warehouse. Chris Colfer is the very definition of adorable when he’s rumpled.
“You say that now.”
Just for that, she jabs him again, right in the soft spot of his side that makes him squeak like a kitten.
“You’re on my list,” Chris says, sitting up and sliding off the table. But he sits back down in the wheelchair again, so Heather decides not to take it to heart.
...And One Time He Refused To Be Carried
They’re shooting Time Warp when it happens. They’re all in a diagonal line doing the pelvic thrust (that really drives you insane) when the heel on Jenna’s Columbia shoe snaps suddenly. She slips backwards with a shriek, bumping into Chord, who falls back into Naya. They go down like dominoes. Harry, Heather, Naya, Cory. Amber trips backwards trying to avoid being crushed, into Dianna, who falls back into Chris. In a matter of seconds, everyone except Kevin is on the floor groaning.
“Cut,” Adam calls, laughing. “That was impressive. Definitely a keeper for the season two gag reel. Everyone okay?”
There’s a chorus of yeahs in response.
“I think I bruised my ass,” Chord says.
“Definitely bruised my pride,” Jenna says, tugging her shoes off. “Sorry guys.”
“These things happen. Don’t worry about it,” Adam says, turning to find the wardrobe assistant. “Can someone get Jenna some new Columbia heels?”
Chris winces as he climbs to his feet. He twisted as he fell, landing on one foot, and of course he’s the one to injure himself.
“I saw that,” Dianna says immediately. “What hurts?”
“Ankle,” Chris replies, shrugging. “It’s never really been the same since those Gaga heels. It’s fine. Just landed funny.”
“Chris is injured!” Dianna announces before he can tell her not to. Lea and Amber are in front of him in an instant. He sighs.
“Chris!” Lea says, eyes wide.
“I’m fine. I just landed on my foot wrong.”
“You don’t look fine,” Lea replies, taking in his stance; leaning on his good foot. She kneels down and starts unlacing his boot, slipping his shoe off. She peels down his sock, gently prodding around his ankle.
“Oww,” Chris says.
“It’s already swelling,” she tells him. “You’re so not fine.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Chris says, but she’s already hurrying off towards Adam.
“I’ll take you to the medic,” Cory says. His eyes are huge with worry, just like every other time Chris has hurt himself on set. “I can carry you, we’ll get there faster.”
“Or we can use Artie’s chair,” Amber suggests, her hand on Chris’ shoulder.
Chris shakes his head. “Not necessary. I didn’t spend three hours getting this bald cap put on to spend the rest of the day with a bag of ice on my foot.” Besides, this is a group number. A group number where his absence will be inexcusably conspicuous. “We’re almost done with this. Then I’ll ice it. I did the whole live tour with a screwed up leg, I can manage a few hours.”
Lea comes back with Adam before Cory can protest. Adam, who takes injuries very seriously, and insists on getting a chair brought over so he can inspect Chris’ ankle properly. Luckily Adam is also a realistic director, and he understands why Chris isn’t particularly enthusiastic about being carted off to the Paramount Studios medical office for a twisted ankle. In the end, they compromise, and bring the medic over to the stage to wrap Chris’ ankle, and ice it so he can actually get his boot back on to finish filming the scene. The ice goes back on in between takes too.
“Relax,” he tells Dianna. “Riff-Raff is supposed to have a weird walk. This is practically method acting.”
That earns him a grin, at least. Unlike Lea, who looks like she’s ready to cry over his swollen ankle.
“I’m driving you home,” she says, attaching herself to his side the moment they’re done with wardrobe and Chris has his full head of hair back again. “Then you’re going to elevate that foot for the rest of the night, and we’re going to eat ice-cream and watch movies and you’re not going to complain about it.”
“Okay,” he says, slinging his bag over his shoulder and hobbling beside her towards the parking lot. “Aren’t you going to offer to carry me, like everyone else?”
Lea snorts, twining her fingers through his. “Please, Chris. You’ve grown so much you're practically a giant these days. I might as well offer to piggy-back Cory.”
“I’m heartbroken,” Chris tells her. He can’t keep a straight face for long, which is probably a good thing. Lea looks like she’s seconds away from hoisting him over her shoulder. It’s lucky they arrive at her car already.
“Let’s talk movies,” Lea says, pressing the key to unlock the doors. “I’ve heard good things about Paranormal Activity 2…”
(the end.)
Author:
notfar Rating: PG
Word Count: 4,014
Disclaimer: Don’t own Glee and this never happened
Spoilers: Up to 2x05
Notes: Unbeta'd. I promised myself I wouldn't write RPF when I got into this fandom. At least I held out a few months... (Also, the title has nothing to do with anything)
Summary: RPF. Five times somebody picked Chris Colfer up, and one time he refused to be carried. Originally posted here at the
glee_fluff_meme .-
1. Cory
It’s somewhat of a reunion when the whole cast comes together to shoot the promo photos for season two. The summer hiatus isn’t nearly as long as that of any other show – the live tour took a sizable chunk out of it, and then there were the Emmy’s, and Cory’s been away almost the entire time shooting Monte Carlo. A few months apart is a big deal when they’ve spent the past year together pretty much constantly, so having the entire cast minus Di, plus the producers and the hair/makeup/wardrobe girls all in the one warehouse to work together for the day is something to celebrate.
The final shot of the day has the whole cast in football uniforms. It’s kind of funny, seeing everyone drowning in the oversized red shirts. At the last minute, the Fox guy steps in and asks if they can set up a scene with just the New Directions girls before they pack up for the day. Nobody objects; Lea, Jenna and Amber are pretty darn adorable in the uniforms, and Naya and Heather have been shaking their pom-poms in people’s faces all day, clearly pleased to be official cast members.
The TV-adults take their leave, but Cory hangs back to watch, and most of the guys do as well.
“We should get dinner after they’re done,” he says, and the suggestion is greeted with agreement from everyone as they sit down by the catering table. Kevin pulls out his iPad, Mark pulls out his phone, and Dijon and Harry head over to talk to the DJ. Which leaves Chris. Cory grins.
Chris raises an eyebrow. “That’s your mischief-making face.”
“No way. It’s my tell-me-something-exciting-Chris-Colfer face.”
“Last night I learnt why Amber should never get to pick the movie,” Chris offers, stifling a yawn with his palm. “Paranormal Activity.”
“Bad?”
Chris screws up his nose. “Not my thing. And not Amber or Jenna’s thing either. They refused to leave when it was over.”
Cory laughs. “Sleepover?”
“We stayed up all night with the lights on.”
“Aww,” Cory says, and reaches over to mess with Chris’ hair in a way that Kurt Hummel would loathe, but Chris seems unbothered by. “No wonder you got through three diet cokes today.”
“More like five,” Chris mutters, and drops his head forward against the table.
Between hair and makeup and figuring out the arrangements and backdrops, since this wasn’t a shot they’d planned, it’s another hour before they girls are done. In that time, the DJ has gone home, catering is completely packed up, and Harry and Dijon have run out of ways to amuse themselves.
Chris hasn’t moved.
“Aww,” Lea says, coming up beside Cory, her hair swept up into a bun behind her. “Doesn’t he look innocent.”
“I don’t want to wake him,” Cory tells her, but with the shoot officially wrapped, people are packing up at hyper-speed and they kind of do need to leave.
“He’s too cute to move,” Lea agrees. Everyone’s milling around, waiting to see what the plan for the night is, and when Cory invites the girls to come out to dinner, the response is unanimously enthusiastic. Then everyone else notices Chris – who is out like a light, curled up in the oversized jersey - and Lea’s not the only one cooing at him.
Cory snaps a photo of Chris on his iPhone before the chorus of awwws can wake him up. “Now the moment is immortalised. So where are we going for dinner? And did he drive here?”
“Amber drove Chris and I here,” Jenna says, grinning. “And I vote sushi.”
“That makes life easy then,” Cory says, standing up. Chris might've had a growth spurt over the summer, but he’s still far from being Frankenteen-sized. He seems tiny still, and weighs barely anything, at least to Cory. His current position, slumped forward against the tabletop, makes it easy for Cory to scoop him up.
Chris wakes up the moment Cory lifts him up, head leaning against Cory’s shoulders and cradled in his arms.
“Wha – oh my god, Cory, put me down,” he says, somehow sounding even younger in his barely-awake state. Everyone laughs, no longer worried about waking him up.
“Nah,” Cory tells him, walking towards the door. “You’re too tired to walk.”
With everyone’s eyes on him, Chris blushes bright red. “I’m really not. You couldn’t just poke me in the shoulder or shout at me to wake up like a normal person?”
“Nope,” Cory replies. Lea’s got her phone out, pointed in their direction, giggling wildly. Cory grins for the camera. Chris just groans, dropping his head back against Cory’s chest.
“Please put me down?”
“Out of the question,” Cory says, letting the girls go ahead to make sure the parking lot is paparazzi-free. The higher-ups would probably frown on a picture of him carting Chris around like a child, and Chris probably wouldn’t approve of a photo like that finding its way onto the blogs.
That doesn’t stop him uploading the photo of Chris sleeping to twitter. It’s totally worth risking Chris’ wrath.
2. Harry
They’re shooting the Britney episode when Chris walks onto the soundstage wearing what looks very much like a skirt.
“Nice skirt,” Kevin says immediately. “Skirt? Kilt? Man-skirt? Fashionable hip-wrap?”
“I decided I didn’t want to know,” Chris replies. “I stopped questioning the outfits a long time ago.”
“Well it looks lovely,” Kevin tells him.
Chris laughs, and rolls his eyes. “Thanks.”
The scene they’re shooting is dialogue-heavy; Mr Schuester talking to everyone in the choir room, ending with Kurt storming out to the principal’s office. There’s no singing whatsoever, so it’s basic enough to shoot, but it requires multiple angles and reaction shots from just about everyone, which means a lot of time spent in-between takes setting up lights, tracking and cameras.
The crew blares music while they do this – Britney Spears, appropriately- and Harry pulls Kevin out of his wheelchair and into a dance-off immediately. Nobody can beat Harry, but Kevin can hold his own to Womanizer pretty damn well. Chris is impressed, as always. He sits in the top row of chairs whenever he can help it for that very reason – not that anyone would ever try to pull him into a dance-off, but freestyling is not at all his thing. He’d be lucky if he could beat Cory if it came down to it.
The next time Ryan calls cut, Naya and Heather get into it as well - If You Seek Amy - and by the time Crazy comes on, everybody’s on the floor. Chris lets Lea and Amber pull him out, because he can dance if nobody’s watching, and Lea’s hard to say no to.
The stereo volume is maxed out and the crew have all but stopped working to watch the show instead. Harry dances circles around everyone – literally – until he comes to a stop in front of Chris. Chris is spinning on the spot - pretty much the only move he really has - sandwiched between Naya and Jenna. The pleats on his skirt billow out around him, and Harry grabs his arm, twirling him faster.
“Just like a ballerina,” Kevin calls out over the music. Harry grins at Kevin, raises one eyebrow then puts his hands on Chris’ waist, picking him up.
“Whoa,” Chris laughs, then stretches his arms out and arches his back into the lift, head leaning back to match the curve of his spine like a ballet dancer. Harry spins him around, then sets him back down gracefully, like lifting another guy his height is no sweat at all.
“That’d look awesome with a run-up,” Harry tells him, cocking his head to the side like it’s something Chris would actually consider. It’s not.
“Right up until I trip and knock us both over.”
“Practice makes perfect,” Harry tells him, and Chris grins at him before he lets Heather pull him away into another twirl.
3. Naya and Dianna
Filming solos is always exhausting. Dianna’s only had to do it a couple of times – which is fine with her, because she knows she can sing, but she’s always considered herself an actor before a vocalist – and she’s always slept well after filming them. It’s not the hours so much, just the focus required, and the heat of the light centred on you, and the energy used getting every single shot just right.
It’s also exhausting having to cry on camera take after take. Playing a pregnant teenager taught her that very quickly. She has no idea how Chris does it so well. Understandably, he looks pretty wiped when they come to filming Grilled Cheesus. An entire episode of Kurt crying, and crying, and singing, and singing and crying, and more crying, and more singing. He holds out admirably, but starts drooping noticeably about halfway through the eight-day filming schedule.
Dianna does what she can – bringing diet coke when he looks like he needs it and curling up beside him in between takes to make sure he’s actually okay. He is; Chris is tough, and a brilliant actor. He’s perfectly capable of shooting fifteen takes of a crying-by-a-comatose-father’s-bedside scene without having to drag out any childhood trauma to make the tears flow. Dianna just likes to make sure.
It’s nearing the end of the week, and all that’s left is to film I Want To Hold Your Hand and One of Us. They’re shooting both on the same day, or planning to. It’s ambitious, but by no means extreme by Glee standards.
Lea sheds almost as many tears watching Hold Your Hand as Chris does singing it. At the end of every take, she’s up out of her chair and wrapped around him almost instantly. She clings to him until she’s forced so sit back down and let the make-up people come in and do touch-ups. Dianna knows the feeling. The shakiness in Chris’ voice doesn’t disappear when the cameras stop rolling.
Finally they’re done; breaking for a late lunch and wardrobe before they shoot the last scene of the episode.
One of Us has essentially no choreography. Just lots of crane shots, and lots of close-ups. And it’s hot in the auditorium. Like, unreasonably hot. They’re pumping in the air-con, but in such a large space, it’s largely ineffective.
In between takes, everyone goes back to their starting marks and collapses on the stage floor. Dianna looks to Chris, stretched out on his back, hand-held fan up to his face.
“You okay baby?”
“Mmmm, I’m fine,” he tells her. On the other side of him, Naya strokes his arm. Chris is wearing a shirt, tie and cardigan in this scene, and Dianna does not envy him. She’d hold his hand, but it’s just too hot.
Hours later, when they’re finally, finally done, and Alfonzo’s called it a wrap, everybody drops down onto the floor.
“Bring on the weekend,” Naya sighs, somehow managing to sprawl in a short skirt without looking alarmingly slutty. Dianna’s grateful for her jeans; she can bend her knees and tilt her head back to find Chris.
He grins when he catches her looking. His eyes are barely open. “I’m gonna sleep all day tomorrow.”
“You’ve earned it,” she says, fanning herself with her hand. “It’s so stuffy in here. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
“Word,” Naya says, sitting up.
Chris scrunches his eyes shut. “Maybe I’ll just lie here all weekend.”
“You’re going to your trailer at least,” Dianna says, standing up.
Chris makes a sad face. “You’re such a harsh taskmaster. Trailers mean sitting up, and walking, and being awake…”
“Up,” Dianna commands, taking one of his hands. Naya grabs the other, and they haul him to his feet.
“Wow, headrush,” Chris says when he’s standing upright, swaying just a little.
“Don’t hurt yourself.” Dianna catches Naya’s eye, and they face each other, lacing their fingers together to creating a little platform between their bodies. “Now sit.”
Chris looks back, raising both eyebrows. “Or not. I’m fine. I just need a minute. To remember how to walk.”
“Sit,” Naya says in her best Santana voice. Chris sits. “Now put your arms around our necks. Good boy.”
“I hate you,” Chris says. Dianna laughs, and Naya grins. They both straighten up, effectively lifting Chris off the ground.
“Onwards!” Dianna shouts, and they carry him off the stage and towards the exits.
“Never mind the empty wheelchair right next to you,” Chris murmurs.
“Enough with the logic, Chrith,” Naya says.
Cory’s a few steps ahead of them, but when he sees the two of them carrying Chris on his portable throne, he stops and waits for them to catch up.
“Cool,” he says. “Can I go next?”
“Keep dreaming,” Dianna tells him. “Now move, please?”
Cory grins. “You’re no fun. Sup, Chris?”
“Nothing much,” Chris replies.
Cory nods, walking alongside them as Dianna and Naya keep moving. “You guys want some help?”
“Oh please,” Naya scoffs, “He’s tiny. I could carry him by myself.”
“Or I could,” Cory says. “Twice as fast as you guys.”
“Or I could walk,” Chris says.
“It’s cute how you think you have a choice,” Dianna tells him.
“C’mon, let me do it,” Cory says, getting down onto one knee in front of them. “Chris, climb on. I’ll get you there in two minutes.”
“Only because you have an enormous height advantage,” Dianna says as they let Chris down. “Go ahead, climb on.”
Chris looks between all three of them and sighs, rightly recognizing that there’s no chance of escape.
“Just don’t tweet about this, okay?” Chris says, and steps forward, wrapping his arms around Cory’s neck. Cory grabs his legs and stands, turning back to face Di and Naya.
“Now this is how you do it. Adios!”
Dianna waves, and watches as Cory takes off across the lot.
4. Chord and Harry
“So that was kind of cool,” Chord says, walking with Chris and Harry out of the soundstage. They’ve only just finished filming, and Chris is still wearing the two-toned tuxedo. His tassles brush against his legs as he walks.
“What was?” Mark asks, joining them as they head towards the wardrobe trailer. Puck’s in juvie for two episodes, so Mark’s been in the recording studio working on episode six instead of watching Kurt Hummel’s tribute to split personalities in the auditorium soundstage.
“This dance move,” Chord says. “These two guys lifted Chris up on their shoulders and twirled him around. I have no idea how you didn’t fall off.”
“It’s pretty easy to balance when they’re holding on to my legs,” Chris replies with a shrug.
“Seriously?” Chord doesn’t look like he’s convinced, but this is his first real taste of Glee choreography, so he can probably be forgiven. He looks to Harry for confirmation.
“It’s easy, man,” Harry says with a smile. Then again, Harry can do a backflip from standing without blinking. “You want to see how?”
“Sure,” Chord says, tilting his head towards Chris. “You mind?”
Chris shrugs. “Why not.”
“Just kneel down,” Harry instructs, going down onto one knee behind Chris. “And lean forward a bit – that’s it. And now Chris leans back against us a little, and we grab his legs. Above and below the knee, right? And we stand up again.”
Chord wobbles a little as he goes from kneeling to standing, taking Chris up on his shoulder with him, but Mark’s right in front to act as a landing cushion if things go awry. He takes a few seconds to adjust to the weight on his shoulder, then he’s fine, holding Chris up above him.
“Perfect,” Harry says. “Then we turn clockwise twice, Chris puts his hands up in the air, then we lean forwards and let him down. Easy.”
They set him back down and Chris twirls on the spot.
“Cool,” Chord says, straightening his clothes out and looking over to Mark. “What do you think, man?”
Mark grins, taking in their outfits – Chord’s casual clothes, Chris’ Victor/Victoria ensemble, Harry’s tuxedo.
“Interesting,” he says. “Nice moustache, Chris.”
5. Heather
“I need your help,” Heather says one day as they’re walking back from Kraft services together. “You’re free now, right?”
“Sure,” Chris nods, screwing the lid back on his bottle of water. “What’s up?”
“I need to practice for a scene tomorrow,” Heather says, “and Kevin’s busy today. But you’re Kevin-sized, so I figured you could be his body-double.”
“I’m so not Kevin-sized,” Chris replies. “I’m taller than you now.”
“Sure, sure,” Heather shrugs. “So, what do you say?”
Chris screws up his nose, but Heather knows it’s all for show. As if Chris would ever say no to somebody’s request for help.
“Why not.”
The dance rehearsal shed is unoccupied, and there’s always a spare wheelchair in there, so it’s pretty much perfect.
“So Artie and Brittany do it before they duet,” she tells Chris, clearing all the papers off one of the tables. “And she carries him to bed.” The lifting part she’s not so worried about – her arms are way more impressive than Mark’s – but it’s the lifting and talking at the same time part that concerns her. “I just need to figure out how Artie gets from the chair to the bed without the whole thing being super awkward.”
“Ah. I guess we’re not just running lines then,” Chris says, but he sits down in the chair without objection.
Chris is ticklish – she knows from when they shot the making-out scene last season – and he squawks the first time she lifts him up. The next time, she grabs him in the same spot deliberately, just because the face he makes when her hands squeeze under his ribs is priceless.
The third time, he wheels the chair backwards out of reach.
“You’re being all grabby on purpose.”
“I’m not.”
“You totally are.”
For all the deadpan comments she makes playing Brittany, Heather’s not great at keeping a straight face when the camera’s off.
“Definitely aren’t,” she says, trying not to laugh. She steps forward again and Chris wheels even further back.
The next time, she’s too fast for him, dashing around him and stepping down on the brake before he can try to evade again. “Take that, Colfer.”
“This is what I get for helping a friend.”
When she goes to pick him up again, she jams her fingers in under his ribs, keeping her arms locked as he tries to squirm away.
“You suck,” he says, the laughter bleeding through into his voice as she sets him down on the table and tickles him under his arms as well. He wriggles away from her until he’s practically hanging off the edge of the table.
“You’re so not good at playing a paralysed guy,” Heather tells him, grabbing his arm to keep him from falling off. “No wonder they had to write you a new character to play.”
She hauls him back into the centre of the table.
“I am never helping you out again,” Chris says, breathless. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a total disaster and now Heather totally understands why Lea and Dianna kept jumping all over him when they were shooting Jump in the mattress warehouse. Chris Colfer is the very definition of adorable when he’s rumpled.
“You say that now.”
Just for that, she jabs him again, right in the soft spot of his side that makes him squeak like a kitten.
“You’re on my list,” Chris says, sitting up and sliding off the table. But he sits back down in the wheelchair again, so Heather decides not to take it to heart.
...And One Time He Refused To Be Carried
They’re shooting Time Warp when it happens. They’re all in a diagonal line doing the pelvic thrust (that really drives you insane) when the heel on Jenna’s Columbia shoe snaps suddenly. She slips backwards with a shriek, bumping into Chord, who falls back into Naya. They go down like dominoes. Harry, Heather, Naya, Cory. Amber trips backwards trying to avoid being crushed, into Dianna, who falls back into Chris. In a matter of seconds, everyone except Kevin is on the floor groaning.
“Cut,” Adam calls, laughing. “That was impressive. Definitely a keeper for the season two gag reel. Everyone okay?”
There’s a chorus of yeahs in response.
“I think I bruised my ass,” Chord says.
“Definitely bruised my pride,” Jenna says, tugging her shoes off. “Sorry guys.”
“These things happen. Don’t worry about it,” Adam says, turning to find the wardrobe assistant. “Can someone get Jenna some new Columbia heels?”
Chris winces as he climbs to his feet. He twisted as he fell, landing on one foot, and of course he’s the one to injure himself.
“I saw that,” Dianna says immediately. “What hurts?”
“Ankle,” Chris replies, shrugging. “It’s never really been the same since those Gaga heels. It’s fine. Just landed funny.”
“Chris is injured!” Dianna announces before he can tell her not to. Lea and Amber are in front of him in an instant. He sighs.
“Chris!” Lea says, eyes wide.
“I’m fine. I just landed on my foot wrong.”
“You don’t look fine,” Lea replies, taking in his stance; leaning on his good foot. She kneels down and starts unlacing his boot, slipping his shoe off. She peels down his sock, gently prodding around his ankle.
“Oww,” Chris says.
“It’s already swelling,” she tells him. “You’re so not fine.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Chris says, but she’s already hurrying off towards Adam.
“I’ll take you to the medic,” Cory says. His eyes are huge with worry, just like every other time Chris has hurt himself on set. “I can carry you, we’ll get there faster.”
“Or we can use Artie’s chair,” Amber suggests, her hand on Chris’ shoulder.
Chris shakes his head. “Not necessary. I didn’t spend three hours getting this bald cap put on to spend the rest of the day with a bag of ice on my foot.” Besides, this is a group number. A group number where his absence will be inexcusably conspicuous. “We’re almost done with this. Then I’ll ice it. I did the whole live tour with a screwed up leg, I can manage a few hours.”
Lea comes back with Adam before Cory can protest. Adam, who takes injuries very seriously, and insists on getting a chair brought over so he can inspect Chris’ ankle properly. Luckily Adam is also a realistic director, and he understands why Chris isn’t particularly enthusiastic about being carted off to the Paramount Studios medical office for a twisted ankle. In the end, they compromise, and bring the medic over to the stage to wrap Chris’ ankle, and ice it so he can actually get his boot back on to finish filming the scene. The ice goes back on in between takes too.
“Relax,” he tells Dianna. “Riff-Raff is supposed to have a weird walk. This is practically method acting.”
That earns him a grin, at least. Unlike Lea, who looks like she’s ready to cry over his swollen ankle.
“I’m driving you home,” she says, attaching herself to his side the moment they’re done with wardrobe and Chris has his full head of hair back again. “Then you’re going to elevate that foot for the rest of the night, and we’re going to eat ice-cream and watch movies and you’re not going to complain about it.”
“Okay,” he says, slinging his bag over his shoulder and hobbling beside her towards the parking lot. “Aren’t you going to offer to carry me, like everyone else?”
Lea snorts, twining her fingers through his. “Please, Chris. You’ve grown so much you're practically a giant these days. I might as well offer to piggy-back Cory.”
“I’m heartbroken,” Chris tells her. He can’t keep a straight face for long, which is probably a good thing. Lea looks like she’s seconds away from hoisting him over her shoulder. It’s lucky they arrive at her car already.
“Let’s talk movies,” Lea says, pressing the key to unlock the doors. “I’ve heard good things about Paranormal Activity 2…”
(the end.)