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femmeharringrove · 4 years

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Another summer, another fight. It scared them to find demogorgons roaming the forests of Hawkins again, the immediate concern being that another gate was open somewhere, but instead of a gate they found a nest; they'd been breeding in this dimension. There are unknowns here, of course. How long were they nesting? How many escaped the fight? How many escaped Hawkins before they even knew the nest was there?

But unknowns can wait. The battle is over, things are okay for now. Steve's destination isn't the Byers' home, not this time, but he's got a car full of chatty teenagers to drop off so he drives on autopilot. The kids won't make anything of his silence until much later, they hardly notice it now. But Steve can't talk, can hardly focus on anything but the eternal trip to the familiar home filled with warmth and relief and family, his family. The kids clamber out and Dustin hesitates, asks Steve if he's coming in.

He's not, he can't, but he smiles his most reassuring grin, runs a fond hand over the teen's curls, and promises to be inside in a minute. Dustin smiles back and nods before scampering inside. Steve watches with a sad sort of relief; his kids are safe, his loved ones are alive. Most of them are, anyway. They survive this time, and so he calls it a success.

Steve looks down at his bloodied jacket and groans softly. He's not making it this time, and he's okay with it.

The Beemer moves out of the driveway silently and he finds the strength to reach the quarry before the car turns off. He should go home, but his mother won't appreciate if he drips blood on her carpets. The quarry is his safe space, these trees know his secrets well. This is where he used to come with Billy long ago, when those ocean eyes and bright smile were still around. This is where their friendship blossomed over beer cans and rolled joints, where Billy trusted him with the truth about Neil and where Steve trusted him with his whole heart. They made love here, hidden away in their cars, they danced to old cassettes and talked about running away to California and making a life for themselves. This is where Steve came after Starcourt, face bruised and ribs broken and heart shattered. He grieved here, healed here, learned to move on here. It's almost fitting that he choose to die here, too. Bittersweet, he thinks.

He turns the car off and thinks about Dustin, about his kids. They'll be finishing high school soon. Dustin's already got an acceptance letter from some big tech school out in California, and Will's gotten a hefty scholarship to a New York arts school. Max is going to law school, she told him not very long ago, and he knows she's going to make one hell of a lawyer. Lucas and Mike are going to North Carolina, and El isn't quite ready to leave the nest yet, but when she does, when Hop lets her go, Steve knows she'll do something amazing. He wishes desperately he could be there to see it, but he's fading fast; the flow of blood from the gruesome series of bites along his torso is slow, but it's adding up. He hopes they don't grieve too hard, that they don't miss him too badly. Especially Dustin.

Dustin, his favorite child. His best friend. Claudia's told him several times even she saw him as an extension of their family, the older brother and mentor her Dusty always needed. The kid's loud, obnoxious at times, but Steve loves him fiercely and he hopes, really hopes that the kid knows that. He's got a letter in his desk for Henderson, for each of his kids, for everyone in his life, wrote them in an emotional haze after Starcourt nearly four years ago when he almost died in a Russian base. There's even a letter for Billy, a farewell to the love of his life. Steve hopes the kids get those letters so that they can at least have that closure, that form of goodbye. That's what those letters are, really. Three nights after the mall he wrote them just in case he died without the chance to say goodbye. Those letters hold everything he's ever wanted to say but never felt able to.

When they're found, Steve wonders what his parents will think. He wonders if his mother will cry, if his father will feel remorse for his absence. It hurts that he's dying without the chance to heal their broken relationship, and in his dark car he finds himself aching for his mother's hug, his father's hand stroking his hair. He wants to tell them that he loves them, in spite of everything. He wants to say sorry, he's sorry he wasn't the child they wanted him to be. But most of all, he just wants their company.

He knows Joyce will cry, thinks Hopper might too. Nancy and Robin are going to cry, there's no doubt in his mind. Steve hopes they don't feel guilt over this, that they don't blame themselves. Because it's not their fault, no matter what they may tell themselves. Robin's going to take this hard, he's abandoning his partner in crime. He hopes she finds another, that she gets to run off to Nashville and get her music gig going. He hopes she finds a girl who loves her goofy ways as much as he does. He hopes Nancy chases her dreams, that she catches them, that she and Jonathan live a happy life together. He hopes everyone lives a happy life after this. He hopes they move on.

"It's gonna take a while, Pretty Boy." Steve opens his eyes (when did he close them?) and slowly rolls his head to the side, stares at Billy in the passenger seat. Billy looks youthful and happy, his skin tanned and freckled and free of the Mind Flayer's scars. He's holding Steve's goodbye letter. Steve blinks once, twice, smiles faintly.

"I've missed you, dumbass," he grumbles, and Billy laughs easily. The sound is floaty and musical.

"Ditto, Stevie." He smiles fondly, and for a second Steve feels like they're teenagers again, sharing their affection in the safe confines of the quarry. Steve can forget the grave reality of the situation. He smiles back, reaches out to poke Billy's warm cheek, and slid his gaze lazily back out towards the lake.

"Is it scary?"

"Not really." Billy shakes his head. "Not when you know what's coming." Steve nods in acknowledgement.

"Can I do anything to stop it?" he asks. The blonde shakes his head again, his smile soft and sad.

"Nah. Sorry, Babydoll, but your time's running out." Steve takes a shuddering breath, nods again. Billy's hand seeks his out, squeezes gently. "Hey, look at me." He waits until Steve obliges, unfocused eyes settling on him. "You did good, Steve. You did real good."

"I don't want to leave them," he whispers, and he's starting to tear up now, the gravity of the situation setting in. "Who's gonna look after them, Bill? I can't - I can't just leave them." Billy leans in as Steve's voice wobbles, his calloused hand wiping the brunette's tears away while he hushes him softly.

"They're going to be okay," he soothes. "Trust me. You've done everything you can, you've done your job. You've been the best damn babysitter this world's ever seen." Billy's arms wrap around him comfortingly. "You've taken such good care of them, now it's time for you to rest." Steve sniffles as he leans into his boyfriend's arms, closing his eyes again.

"You think so?" he manages to ask.

"I know so." A hand runs gently over Steve's wild hair. "I worried about that too, was real worried about you and Max. But look at you." Billy shifts, tilts Steve's head and gets the dying man to look at him again. "You went off to police school or whatever they call it, you became a cop." And Steve had, he'd been a cop for two years. It was the right choice in his mind, even if his parents weren't keen on the idea. Hopper was proud of him, though, and everyone else supported him the whole way through. Judging from the look in Billy's eyes, the blonde is proud of him too. "You've helped those little shitbirds through high school, you've given Buckley a real friend, you've been there for Wheeler and her boy toy which is really impressive, sweetheart, because they drive me nuts." Steve snorts softly, a faint smile on his face, and Billy chuckles before pressing on. "You brought a little sunshine to everyone's life, Steve, and that's amazing. You've left your mark on them all forever. Those kids? They're never going to forget you. None of them will. And it won't be easy for them, losing you, but you moved on after me, didn't you? They're going to keep going. But I promise, they won't forget Steve Harrington." Billy's voice is so confident and soft, Steve can't help but believe him. He worries for his little family still, but he believes the other man. They're going to be okay, somehow. He doesn't have to worry anymore.

So instead, he presses closer to Billy, ignores the dull pain in his body, and smiles.

"Now what?" he asks. Billy hums low in his throat as he cards thick fingers through Steve's hair.

"Now, we move to California," he chuckles. "Right by the beach, baby. We'll watch the sum set over the ocean every night, adopt a couple of dogs or some shit. It'll be good." Steve hums softly.

"Sounds good," he agrees. He's silent for a little while after that. Steve's body feels numb, but that doesn't startle him. "Hey, Bill?"

"Yes, Bambi?"

"I thought you were supposed to feel cold when you die." Steve blinks hazy and slow, a soft smile on his face. "But I just feel really warm." Billy squeezes him gently.

"Warm is good, Pretty Boy," he murmurs. "It's over, Steve, close your eyes. You can rest now." The brunette nods, almost closes his eyes, but stops.

"You'll stay?" he asks.

"I'll stay," Billy promises. "Sleep, Sunshine. I'll be here when you wake up." Satisfied by that answer and too tired to keep his heavy eyelids open, Steve closes his eyes, smiles softly, and falls asleep.

It's Hopper who finds him just past dawn, after spending much of the night searching for the young cop. He has to sit down, can't move for a few minutes after the discovery. Dustin screams when they get to the hospital, crumples on the floor and begs Hopper to bring his best friend back. Max outright faints at the news and spends the day clinging to El, who can't stop crying longer than five minutes. Robin begs them to tell her it's a joke and rages for a few minutes before dissolving into tears herself. Steve's parents get the call in their Tokyo hotel room just before going out for the night; his mother trembles so hard she can't even try to stand. If his father feels anything at the news, he's good at hiding it. They come home to arrange the funeral and are faced with several teenagers waiting for them, Dustin yells at them until Hopper steps in. His mother looks at his lifeless face and whispers an apology he can't hear.

Steve Harrington is laid to rest next to his old high school rival, and an old nail-studded bat is left at the headstone. Nancy gives a tear-jerking eulogy at his funeral, and Dustin barely gets through a smaller speech about his big brother. Max writes a speech, but ultimately is only able to tell the small crowd that Steve was the brightest ray of sun in her darkest time. His parents allegedly were "too emotional" to speak about their son, and no one questions it. Joyce speaks, though, about this heartbreakingly sweet boy she came to love as her own, and Hopper says he would have been proud to have the kid as his son.

His letters are found and are handed out that night, and Max leaves his letter for Billy by the other's headstone unread. They all cry through the words scrawled out in that familiar handwriting, his assurances of love and pride for them all, and promises that they would get through this. Sitting at the quarry that same night, sharing laughter and tears and memories of the man, they decide that maybe, even if they can't see it now, Steve's right. They'll try and get through this. It's hard navigating a storm when the sun's been lost, but they're going to try.

#steebie writes #steve harrington #harringrove #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #i have finally decided this was good enough to post here we go

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abcnewsgathering-blog · 7 years

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FAREWELL TO THE ‘DREAM FACTORY’ AS 60 YEARS OF TV PRODUCTION AT RIPPONLEA STUDIOS COMES TO AN END

(Filming of the final program of ‘The World of Operatta’ at the Ripponlea studios in 1964 - Suzanne Steele is singing ‘Paradise in Waltz Time’ in a bubble bath! - Photo: ABC archives)

After 60 years, production at the ABC’s Ripponlea TV studios is winding down and staff are moving out to refurbished headquarters at Southbank. Australian Story producer Belinda Hawkins, cameraman Mark Farnell and set buyer/dresser Andrew Best share their memories of working at the station, which dates back to the start of television and has been home to many of Australia’s iconic programs.

(The ABC studios in Gordon Street, Elsternwick date back to the start of television in Australia - Photo: Natasha Johnson)

By Natasha Johnson

The sparkle has faded, the paint is peeling, and the whole building looks generally worn out. Built in the 1950′s, the Ripponlea TV station has asbestos (safely contained) in the walls and parts of the site are prone to flooding, but when Australian Story producer Belinda Hawkins talks about it closing her voice breaks and her eyes fill with tears.

(Australian Story producer Belinda Hawkins has spent weeks sorting, boxing and cataloguing 17 years of tapes - Photo: Mark Farnell)

“Everyone who had anytime here, who is packing up now is beside themselves with sadness,” says Belinda.

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Most of her News colleagues moved to the ABC’s Southbank studios more than a decade ago, but Belinda Hawkins has stayed put, working out of an office that was once a film viewing room and still has bits of an old film cleaning machine hanging in a storage cupboard.

“I think I will burst into tears when we leave. I’m leaving my history.”

(Set buyer/dresser Andrew Best in the props department - Photo: Natasha Johnson)

It’s a sentiment shared by Andrew Best, set buyer/dresser and unofficial ‘historian’ who has worked at Ripponlea for 36 years and occasionally conducts public tours of the site.

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VIDEO: TAKE A TOUR BEHIND THE SCENES OF THE RIPPONLEA STUDIOS, WARDROBE AND PROPS DEPARTMENTS WITH ANDREW BEST

“It’s time to move on, but I’m very sad actually,” says Andrew. “I think after nearly 36 years here, that’s over half the time that TV has been in Australia, you feel very attached to somewhere you come to every day and have made so many wonderful friends and helped create so many fantastic things, it is very difficult to leave.”

(A flyer announcing the official opening of the ABC studios in 1958 - supplied: Andrew Best)

Attachment to the old brick building, known affectionately by staff as “Rippers’, stems from its place in the history of television production. The studios, in Gordon Street, Elsternwick, date back to the start of TV in Australia. The ABC started broadcasting in Victoria in 1956, in time for the Melbourne Olympic Games, and the completed studios were officially opened in 1958.

(A flyer promoting the programs and personalities on ABV2 at the time of the official opening of the studios in 1958 - supplied: Andrew Best)

Since then, a host of iconic Australian programs, dramas, and variety shows have been produced at Ripponlea, including the children’s show Adventure Island, sixties soapie Bellbird, period drama Power Without Glory, Countdown, The Gillies Report, The Big Gig, SeaChange, Kath and Kim and, more recently, Mad as Hell and The Weekly.

(Children’s show ‘Adventure Island’ being filmed at Ripponlea in the 1960′s - Photo: ABC archives)

“In the sixties this was called the ‘dream factory’ because it was the beginning of TV and really anything you could dream up was new and exciting and you could create it here. I think latterly I’ve thought of it as Hollywood by the Bay because we’ve had a lot of stars go onto Hollywood and alike,” says Andrew Best, who has worked alongside many of them, including Hugh Jackman, Eric Bana, Sigrid Thornton and Kerry Armstrong.

(Andrew Best on location with actress Kerry Armstrong during filming of ‘Bed of Roses - Photo: Andrew Best)

“It does really have that feeling that just anything could happen here and so many wonderful shows have come out of here.”

(Filming ‘Countdown’ at Ripponlea - Photo: ABC archives)

The studios were built on land that was originally part of the historic Rippon Lea Estate, a location which has caused some headaches over the years.

“The studios border the back end of the Rippon Lea gardens where there is a large lake and this was essentially swampland,” says Andrew Best.

(Inside Studio 31 where ‘The Weekly’ is currently being produced until moving to the new Southbank studios - Photo: Natasha Johnson)

“So if we have extreme rain the studios and scenic runway behind them can be deep in water. We’re also next to a railway line and quite often in the fifties and sixties when trains went by they would make the entire lower level of the building shake and the cameras in the studio would be wobbling. It’s been fixed since with thick concrete floors, but in the early days people would say “Oh, I think that’s the 5.09 to Sandringham going by”, it was that rattly.”

(Belinda Hawkins as a young news reporter - Photo: Belinda Hawkins)

Belinda Hawkins started at Ripponlea in 1985 as a 28 year old News cadet, having abandoned a teaching career to chase her dream of being a journalist.

“The first day I walked in here and got my ABC lanyard I thought I’m off on a magic carpet ride, I can go anywhere and talk to anyone I want, and I have never stopped feeling that way. I remember the first time I watched the news go to air and I just thought this is the best theatre in town. The newsroom was on the second floor, The 7.30 Report was below us and the studio was on the ground floor and there was a constant stream of people running up and down the stairwell, heading out on a story or a ‘scramble’ as it was called then or rushing scripts into the studio.”

(The stairs leading from the ground floor studio to the old newsroom on level two - Photo: Natasha Johnson)

“Everyone smoked and the newsroom was full of smoke. There was a constant buzz of noise in the newsroom: the clatter, clatter, clatter of typewriters, people shouting across the room, and there was a police scanner going all the time. A two-way radio was used to communicate with crews on the road and we had a Chief of Staff, Roger Delisle, who had been in the navy and he’d bark on the two-way “What is the SITREP on your ETA? Over!” I thought it was hilarious.”

vimeo

VIDEO: Rewind to see how the news was produced at Ripponlea in 1979

“In those days, (before automated studios), there were lots of people behind the cameras, in the studio and in the control room. The autocue script had to be put together manually - now it’s all computerised - and there were all these people frantically sticking sheets of paper together. There was just this enormous theatre involved in getting the news to air.”

(Cameraman Mark Farnell has worked at Ripponlea for 33 years - Photo: Natasha Johnson)

Cameraman Mark Farnell has been based here for 33 years and worked on a wide range of news, current affairs, arts and education programs. Starting in 1983, he was one of the last employees to be put through a three year traineeship program, learning all aspects of television production.

(Mark Farnell - second row, far right - with his fellow trainees in 1983 - Photo: ABC archives)

“It was an exciting, vibrant place to work,” Mark recalls. “There was a sense of being amongst the ‘bright lights’ and you’d pass people like Molly Meldrum and Max Gillies in the corridor.”

“There was lots of money going into TV production and, because it was then very labour intensive, there were lots of people working here and it was a 24/7 operation. A lighting crew would work overnight getting studios ready and there’d be a big technical crew on deck from 5am to ‘line up’ (calibrate) all the studio cameras.”

(In the control room during production of Countdown - Photo: ABC archives)

“It was less ‘serious’ then and there was lots of fun and games behind the scenes. I remember working in telecine one day and I’d laced up the machine with a film reel ready to go to air in the news and, without me realising, one of my colleagues flicked the switch to reverse so when the director hit roll it went backwards. No one got that upset about it. It was accepted that things went wrong and that people made mistakes. My trainer, Billy Wright, told us “If you make a mistake don’t worry about it, it’s only TV, not brain surgery!”

(Mark Farnell shooting a story in the early years of his career - Photo: Belinda Hawkins)

Mark Farnell first learnt to shoot on film and recalls how the medium required efficient and economical shooting.

“You couldn’t over shoot because the film had to be processed and it was expensive. You would very rarely run through a 400 foot roll, which was about 8 minutes. You had to get the footage back to the lab by 4pm to make the 7pm news. You wouldn’t go to a press conference and just roll endlessly on an interview. The journalist’s job was to ‘rehearse’ with the talent off camera so you could record the right answer straight up. It was liberating when we moved to video, and later digital cameras, because we could shoot a lot more material. There’s a lot less discipline in what we shoot now because we can accumulate huge amounts of material, but it’s opened up that ‘fly on the wall’ ability to capture the perfect moment that was hard to capture on film.”

(Set buyer/dresser Andrew Best in the wardrobe department - Photo: Natasha Johnson)

Andrew Best started in dispatch in 1981, moved into staging and then became a buyer/dresser in the Art Department. His job is to realise the visions of designers and producers and make the sets ‘look real’. There’ve been some challenging moments along the way.

“I remember one designer insisted he didn’t want to see anything red on set, no red! I once got 10 different samples of a brown carpet and the designer still wanted a shade of brown between two samples that already looked pretty much alike. When I was working on Countdown and Cindi Lauper was performing ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’, her manager kept screaming “I want more trash cans, we need more trash cans” for her set. It can be a frantic job, but it’s intensely rewarding.”

(Cindi Lauper on the Countdown set with host Molly Meldrum - Photo: ABC archives)

When dressing a set, first stop is always the ABC props stores, which Andrew Best fondly describes as looking like “the world’s biggest op shop”. And he’s not wrong.

“Some people think of it as the city tip, but to me it’s heaven on earth, you can find amazing things in here.”

(The props department, which Andrew Best describes as looking like “the world’s biggest op shop” - Photo: Natasha Johnson)

He insists there is a system to it, but to the untrained eye there seems to be just row after row, shelf after shelf of piles of junk: various styles of suitcases, telephones, crockery, furniture, paintings, toys, medical equipment, bathroom toiletries, a dozen different types of sticky tape dispensers and jars of lollies, well past their use by date.

(”Never throw anything out” says Andrew Best, even stale lollies - Photo: Andrew Best)

“The thing about a props store is that you always reuse everything, you never throw anything out, even when the mice have made a home in it, because you never know when the script is going to say ‘cereal box with mouse droppings in the bottom of it’!”

(An old pram amongst a props storeroom of furniture from different eras - Photo: Natasha Johnson)

Many of the props have been created by the ABC Art Department and among Andrew Best’s favourite items are rubber replicas of old Melbourne street lamps that were first used in Power Without Glory in the 1970s, hollow wooden blocks of books used to fill the shelves of numerous legal dramas (cheaper than real books) and a mauled wombat head, which was made for an episode of Bed of Roses, starring Kerry Armstrong.

(Andrew Best with one of his favorite props, a very realistic mauled wombat made for an episode of ‘Bed of Roses’ - Photo: Natasha Johnson)

“One of the story lines was that there was a panther on the loose around the country town where the show was set and one of the scenarios had a little girl coming across a wombat that had been eaten. This beautifully made prop cost about $1500 and two weeks to make and it is incredibly realistic.”

(Andrew Best with the wombat head on location during filming of the ‘Bed of Roses’ episode - Photo: Andrew Best)

As well as a vast props collection, the ABC has an enormous range of costumes, stored in several rooms at the Gordon Street site and the neighbouring Selwyn Street offices, where staff are also relocating. The collection, stretching back 60 years, includes many outfits handmade by the ABC wardrobe department and pieces are often hired out for external productions.

(A couple of gowns from the wardrobe store, which has thousands of costumes dating back to the start of television - Photo: Natasha Johnson)

“In the early days, we didn’t have a huge supply of clothing so a lot of the actors and performers would be asked to bring in their own clothing, cleaned, pressed and ready to wear. And sometimes they were even asked to bring in their own furniture as props!” says Andrew Best.

(The costume collection includes many period costumes made by ABC dressmakers - Photo: Natasha Johnson)

“In the 1970s, the ABC produced a great number of operettas, we had ‘The Saturday Show’ with Louetta Farrar, and we also made a lot of period dramas. So, we had a large workshop of seamstresses making dresses, hats, jackets, coats and gloves, particularly when we were making ‘Power Without Glory’ (set in Melbourne between the 1890′s and 1950′s). They weren’t costumes that you could just go out and buy.

Years ago, I remember going to the workshop where wardrobe used to be (in the nearby suburb of Highett) and it looked rather like Yves Saint Laurent’s Ateliers. There were about 20 women, everyone had white jackets on, with pins in their lapels working on huge old sewing machines. And even recently, with the Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries, a lot of the clothes were made here.”

(Among a large hat collection are some donated by local Elsternwick ladies - Photo: Natasha Johnson)

“The ABC has also been lucky that some of the older ladies living in the area have donated a lot of their hats, so we have some period hats that were actually worn in the thirties, forties and fifties by the local Elsternwick ladies.”

(A jacket believed to have been worn by the Mayor in an episode of ‘Adventure Island’ - Photo: Natasha Johnson)

Over the next few months, the wardrobe and props collections will be packed up and moved to new warehouses and all staff will be relocated at the newly refurbished Southbank complex. One of Ripponlea’s final productions will be a party for current and former staff to farewell the ‘dream factory’.

As he prepares to move on, Andrew Best recalls that when he joined the ABC in 1981, a jaded old colleague told him, ‘Mate, you’ve missed the glory years of the ABC but after 36 years, I think I’ve had some pretty glorious times here.”

(A card celebrating the first ten years of ABC broadcasting in Victoria - supplied: Andrew Best)

#television #belinda hawkins #mark farnell #andrew best #props #staging #ripponlea #television production #australian story

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