#aesoteric

Eugene downs his drink and fixes him with a look of his own. He hasn’t got time for anything Keith is selling right now; he’s got to be up at five tomorrow to start shooting at seven.

Keith flashes him his Muppet grin. “So,” he says, “You know Facebook video?”

“…yeah?”

WEDNESDAY NIGHT

The break room is deserted this late. The fluorescent lights have bleached it into primary colours, the windows above the counter looking like cut-outs in a set, stark squares of shiny black. Eugene is making his third coffee of the evening, leaning against the counter and dumping sugar in with instant by the tablespoon with his mind on the logistics of the shoot he’s got booked for Saturday, when he hears someone behind him and looks up, surprised.

It’s Zach Kornfeld, looking as beat as Eugene feels. He makes a couple abortive motions – “oh – sorry – uh, can I –?” – visibly trying to puzzle out how to get around Eugene without intruding on his space.

Eugene takes his mug and steps back from the counter. “You good?” he asks, and Zach smiles, self-deprecating.

“Yeah, sorry, just need a refill.”

Eugene nods, stirs his coffee absently. “Deadline?”

Zach shakes his head as he reaches over to the minifridge, pulls out a carton of soy milk. “Just working on concept stuff,” he says. “Facebook video, you know?”

Eugene smiles into his mug, “So I’ve heard.” There’s a pause, and then because contrary to popular belief Eugene is not an asshole and he does notice when people are stressed out of their minds and need some help, he says, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Zach gives him a tight-mouthed smile, turning back from the counter with his mug cradled against his chest. “You have a thing on Saturday, right? A big one?”

“Yeah, but it’s fine. I’m just waiting to hear back on some stuff.” Eugene waves a hand dismissively. The ‘stuff’ has been circling in his head since midday, but normal people do not check their emails at eleven o’clock at night so it’s probably a safe bet that he’s not making any more real progress until at least the open of business tomorrow.

Zach wrinkles his nose. “Why are you still here, then?”

Eugene shrugs. “Habit,” he says. “Plus if I went home and missed something, I’d be kicking myself.”

“That’s probably not the healthiest, dude,” Zach laughs, but, coffee in hand, he starts back toward his desk, nodding for Eugene to follow. He’s already looking more focussed, just by virtue of having someone to voice his ideas to.

“I mean, I don’t see you going home either,” Eugene takes a sip from his mug as he falls into step behind him. “What ideas have you got so far?”

Zach drops his weight into his chair, flicks his monitor on. “Ned’s got all these ideas about appealing to women. So, we were thinking about doing makeup reviews or something, but then we were like ‘that’s fucking boring’, you know?”

FRIDAY NIGHT

“…it’s doing numbers, and Ned Fulmer, the manager? You know, the super married one? He wants to get a crew together and try a few videos for the platform. He’s done a bunch of research. Says we specifically need appeal to women.”

Eugene has a pretty good idea of where this is going, but he waits for Keith to finish. It’s probably a bit mean, but watching BuzzFeed’s more charismatic types spin themselves out on his silence is kind of fun.

“So, we were throwing stuff at the wall, just seeing what sticks, and we thought, how about we put some dudes in Victoria’s Secret?”

“Oh.” This is… not where Eugene thought this was going at all, actually.

THURSDAY MORNING

Ned Fulmer is an odd combination of high school jock and suburban dad. As a managerial style it essentially equals out to tooth-rotting enthusiasm with a competitive streak, which, makes a lot of sense for BuzzFeed when you think about it.

He’s striding through the office in a polo shirt and chinos, his phone in hand, craning his neck over the desks and clearly looking for someone. Eugene does not have time for whatever this is. He pulls his headphones on and tries to look as engrossed in his work as possible (which isn’t hard: he needs to book at least sixteen models for a shoot three days from now, and he hasn’t technically got approval for more than three. The emails are getting heated).

It doesn’t work.

“Eugene!” Ned says, stopping right behind him with a huge smile.

Eugene rolls his chair back slowly, looks up at Ned as he pulls his headphones off. “Yes?”

“I need your expertise.”

“I’m pretty busy with the set-up for Saturday, but… sure, what do you need?”

“I know you’ve got the hook-up for costuming. Would you be able to help us get our hands on some underwear?”

“…what are you looking for, exactly?” Eugene asks.

“Uhh, women’s underwear, specifically. Sexy stuff.”

Eugene can’t stop the smirk from sliding onto his face. “Seriously.”

Ned bristles. “Yeah, seriously. Why, is that a problem?”

Eugene’s smirk turns into a proper, easy grin. Ned’s technically his boss, but he gets flustered so easily and it’s so much fun. “No, of course not. Did you have a label in mind? A style?”

FRIDAY NIGHT

“So we were thinking, what if we got a bunch of dudes to try on women’s underwear and like, try to empathise with them. But then also it’s funny, ‘cause we’re a bunch’a clueless dudes trying to figure out women’s underwear.”

“This sounds… potentially insensitive,” Eugene says slowly, but it is an interesting angle, he supposes. It’s certainly more interesting than makeup reviews.

“No, no, because it’s all about us, right? We’re laughing at ourselves. And at the underwear, and like, beauty standards.”

“…okay. So what do you need me for, styling? This doesn’t seem like it needs much direction.”

Keith smiles crookedly, adjusts his glasses. “Actually,” he says, and now compared to his usual volume he’s practically mumbling, “We were wondering if you’d be in it?”

Eugene snorts, and then he’s too busy trying to play off the fact that he just snorted to catch the next few sentences out of Keith’s mouth.

THURSDAY AFTERNOON

Ned is working out of a boardroom with actual walls, which is something like a badge of honour in this company, but from the way he’s sitting perched on the edge of his seat like he’s afraid it’s going to bite him, Eugene is assuming this isn’t actually where he’s supposed to be.

He raps on the doorframe, and Ned snaps his head up like a deer in headlights, before grinning, relieved, when he sees it’s not Ze or someone else with the ability to kick him out.

“Eugene! Hi! How’d you get on?” Ned asks, pushing back from the mess of papers spread out in front of him.

Eugene steps into the room, sets his shopping bags down on the table, all business. “So, you’re good to keep these, obviously, but they’re not exactly top of the line because given the tone of the video I was never going to be able to convince them to count it as advertising so we did have to pay retail price. Still, I had an intern pick up about six different styles in different sizes and colours. You should be set.”

Ned is already digging into the bags, pulling out skimpy bits of fabric and holding them up for examination. “These are great,” he says, grinning at Eugene. “Thanks man, these are gonna be perfect.”

“…so, what’s the video?” Eugene asks, morbid curiosity overtaking his desire to get back to his own project.

Ned puts the underwear down and picks up a sheath of papers from the table, pushes it into Eugene’s hands. “Here, here,” he says. He looks more excited about the papers than he was about the G-string.

Eugene scans the page, flicks his eyes back to Ned. “Facebook video?”

FRIDAY NIGHT

When he tunes back in, Keith is saying, “…and we wanted to get an attractive guy to round it out. And uh, that’s you. If you’re up for it.”

“Keith,” Eugene starts, and then stops, clears his throat, tries again, “…you’re aware that I’m a producer, not a personality, right? Like, I’m flattered, but I’m not funny.”

Keith looks genuinely surprised. “Yeah you are! I mean, yeah, you’re pretty dry, but you’re funny! And you’re confident, which we need, because we’re also getting Zach Kornfeld in and he’s kind of a mess, so.”

Eugene laughs in spite of himself. He can actually see Zach out of the corner of his eye right now, hovering over near the dancefloor, trying and failing to make conversation with a friend of Ella’s. He looks like he’s about ready to bolt. Watching him try to keep it together half-naked on camera would be… something, that’s for sure.

“You’d be a good fit, honestly. I wouldn’t be asking you if we didn’t think you could do it,” Keith says, and he’s looking at Eugene like he’s actually concerned, like he thinks he might have put Eugene out of his depth just by asking this.

It’s disarming. Eugene tries not to let his face give him away, but he’s kind of. Touched? “I mean, if you’re sure,” he manages, and Keith’s entire face lights up.

Keith, beaming, adjusts his glasses in a way Eugene suspects is mostly just a way to avoid eye contact. “Oh my god, awesome. Thank you so much, dude. No one else was up for it.”

Eugene laughs. “Does that mean I wasn’t your first choice for token hot guy?”

Keith shoves his shoulder. “For hot guy? Definitely. But if Zach hadn’t just gotten that stupid smiley face tattoo on his ass, I don’t know who I would have gotten to do this with us.”

Eugene narrows his eyes. “Hang on, does that mean it’s just the three of us? Ned helped think of all this and he’s not going to be in the video?”

It’s Keith’s turn to blink. “He’s a manager,” he says.

Eugene raises an eyebrow. “And I’m a director. And I’m pretty sure Zach’s not a front of camera guy either.”

“Yeah but Zach’s got that tattoo we thought would be funny, and you’re… the hot one, so…” Keith is hedging, but there are gears turning in his head.

Eugene raises his arm for a waiter and orders another drink. He was supposed to be heading home, working on finishing touches for his shoot tomorrow, but it all feels academic right now, because Ned Fulmer is trying to get out of some shit, and. “No. No, no, no. There’s nothing funnier than a guy who doesn’t want to be there. We’re getting Fulmer in on this.”

Keith looks overjoyed. “You’re right. You’re so right. Shit, Eugene, I told you you were funny!”

MONDAY MORNING

Ned is squawking excuses as Keith walks him in, his face contorted into an expression of horror Eugene has only seen on him when someone pulls some really stupid shit on social media and he has to clean up the mess.

“…and so you’ll be our straight man! It’ll be so funny! Come on, buddy, it’s for the video! For the company. For Facebook.” Keith is keeping up a constant stream of half-sincere encouragement, his hands gripping Ned’s shoulders just tight enough that Ned can’t get away.

Eugene looks up from helping Zach string up a cloth across the frame to flash Ned his toothiest grin. “Hey, Ned! Glad you decided to join us!”

“Eugene…” Ned says, appeasing. Eugene’s grin doesn’t falter. “I swear, I didn’t know they were going to rope you into this. Are you really doing this? Do we really have to do this?”

“I don’t know, Ned, it looks like we really do,” Eugene says, playing off of Keith’s smooth quasi-professionalism. Ned looks pale. Eugene probably gets more of a kick out of stressing him out than is strictly healthy for his career.

Zach waves a hand from behind Eugene. “We’ve got a sheet up to protect your modesty, you don’t have to freak out. But I couldn’t exactly put a casting call out for this, and no one else we asked was up for it, so as one of the masterminds of this whole thing we decided you’ve got a responsibility.”

“A responsibility to put on lacy underwear for the internet! Exactly.” Keith echoes with a grin.

Ned is floundering too much to say anything to that. He sits down heavily in a chair behind the camera and lets his head drop into his hands. “…alright. Are we ready to roll?”

Zach steps into place behind the camera and nods. “Positions?” he asks.

Eugene walks round behind the cloth and shucks off his jeans, tosses them out of shot.

“Yeah, we’re good.”