Watch Your Language

by ouijaboy (nbfutureboy)

Summary:

“He’s deaf as hell, dude. Can’t hear so much as a squeak. You really didn’t know about Shane?”

Prequel to the Deaf!Unsolved AU. Ryan, fresh on the job, decides he wants to get to know one of the other newbies a little better - the only obstacle is that he doesn’t know any ASL.

Notes:

[RPF disclaimer: No-one in this fic represents their real-life counterpart. This is a fictional series of events using characters inspired by real people.]

 

Deaf!BuzzFeed AU? ASL Test Friends? Did someone say ‘conversational basics’ or is that the language enthusiast in me jumping out? Enjoy, anyhoo, ‘cos I love writing this stuff.

Chapter 1

 

It’s only a little time into his employment at BuzzFeed - hell, he hasn’t even passed his six month review yet - so Ryan would really like to a) get this piece finished in time for tomorrow morning, and b) not cause an OSHA or HR incident.

Unfortunately, it looks like he might fail both of these aims when he practically runs over Brent in the office.

“Woah, dude! What’s the rush?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ryan garbles, “I just gotta pass this over to someone so they can put bumpers on it, it’s almost done otherwise but the deadline got pulled forward to tomorrow AM and everyone’s busy and I don’t have the time to do it myself, mostly ‘cos I don’t have access but I’m also busy--”

Brent hovers his hands over Ryan’s arms, like he’s too taken aback by the panic to try to actually stabilize him. He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like Jesus Christ, and says:

“Have you tried Shane?”

This is an option he hadn’t known was available. Ryan finally catches his breath.

There’s only one issue with this, though.

“Who?” he asks.

“New Guy Shane. Well, he isn’t new new,” Brent admits, “but a couple months is still the settling in period, I guess. You’ll definitely know him - Bigfoot-height, kind of like if you stretched out a skinny white hipster… He sits in the corner by Sara? So try him. That guy can do everything except your audio production.”

Oh, that would be awesome. Ryan’s brain is already fast forwarding through the motions - he can cut the audio himself, easy, he just doesn’t have the bumpers for this particular brand. “How come he doesn’t do audio?” he asks. Hopefully it doesn’t sound too ungrateful.

Apparently not. “He’s deaf as hell, dude,” Brent says, giving him a strange look. “Can’t hear so much as a squeak. You really didn’t know about Shane?”

“No,” says Ryan. To be fair, he’s been…. Busy. Way too busy.

“Yeah, try him. I’ll see you, Ryan, try not to careen into anyone else.”

“Thanks,” says Ryan - except Brent’s already leaving, and something’s just occurred to him. “Wait! Brent! How do I ask him if he can’t hear me? Brent!”

Well, shit.

Ryan thinks fast and sprints back to his desk.

 

Ryan Bergara to Shane Madej [15:08]
Hey Shane, my name’s Ryan, I don’t think we’ve met properly but Brent recommended you for editing. I’m in a fix and need those new bumpers added from the H Drive. Are you free at all today? I would definitely owe you one if you’re able to help, big time. 

Shane Madej to Ryan Bergara [15:10]
Sure, bring it over. I have access.
I saw the deadline got brought forward on the team chat, bad luck dude.

Ryan Bergara to Shane Madej [15:11]
I’ll be right there. Thank you SO much

 

Oh god, Ryan’s gonna kiss this dude. What a lifesaver.

He throws himself and his flash drive clear across the building, keeping an eye out for a giant man near Sara’s desk, and--

Well, Ryan might actually kiss this dude if the opportunity arises, regardless of his deadline. He’s fucking gorgeous.

“Holy shit. Hi,” he says.

Except Shane Madej doesn’t turn around.

Right - deaf dude. Is it rude to snap his fingers? Probably, and he can’t hear it anyway, so Ryan raps on Shane’s desk to get his attention, throwing him a desperate smile when Shane looks up from his work.

“Hi,” he says again, out of breath and already forgetting the audio issue at hand. But Shane’s already reaching for a whiteboard on his desk, propped up on its own metal legs like a miniature drawing board.

Hi! Sara’s not here today to interpret, gotta write instead.
Also I don’t lip read

“That’s fine,” Ryan says quickly, before realizing the flaw in that plan and ensuring his face and gestures convey the sentiment.

Shane hands him the marker:

No worries
Is flash drive okay? It’s for 10 tomorrow

He glances up worriedly, but Shane’s nodding, a little smile playing on his lips. The guy draws a happy face, and after dotting the eyes with his pen, he holds his hand out for the flash drive.

:) Stop by first thing. It shall be done!!

“You are the best,” Ryan gets out, rummaging through his pants pocket for the drive and dropping it in Shane’s palm. The best way of letting Shane know this (that he can think of in his current state) is by writing THANK YOU!!!!!! in huge letters on the board. It's so huge that it covers up their whole conversation so far, and Shane audibly chuckles at him.

Fuck, this guy is cute. And helpful, and he also has really nice handwriting. Ryan’s gonna buy this godsend a beer at the next company party.

 

---

 

The relief after meeting the deadline is incomparable. Mentally, it’s like sinking into a hot bath, except the sudden removal of time-sensitive pressure means Ryan’s re-evaluating his panicked manners around Shane. (Not the best first impression he’s ever made.)

So he revisits the dude’s desk in the hope of explaining himself. He even brought his own marker, just in case, and it looks like it was the right call - Sara’s not here today either, and Shane’s whiteboard is propped up on the desk again. Not having a translator around probably sucks quite a bit for their resident editing Sasquatch.

Shane glances up in surprise:

Hey, Ryan waves.

Shane scrambles for the whiteboard.

Back so soon? Another bumper?

The look Ryan receives when he uncaps his own dry-erase marker is fucking unparalled. He’s never been so happy to be organized for once in his life.

No. Came to say thanks!

(Because this morning had been a fleeting visit prior to a potential shitshow, and Ryan had bust through this part of the office like a tornado. There hadn’t been time for pleasantries when he’d had a wholeass video to compress.)

Hate the shirt, by the way, he adds, and laughs when Shane nods in approval. He doesn’t seem embarrassed - actually, he seems pretty damn pleased to be recognized as a minor eyesore - and in no time at all, he’s jotting something in reply.

Thanks. So does everyone
I’m not supposed to wear bright things bc it’s distracting. But - and this is very unfortunate for all my Deaf friends - I am a huge asshole.

This guy’s charming as fuck. Ryan wants to know more.

So he draws an arrow at the word ‘distracting’:

Why?

Imagine everyone you speak to is wearing carnival face paint. That’s what a neon floral shirt is like in ASL

Mardi Gras must be hell for you

Love it, Shane writes, eyes sparkling with wonder. Love anything with visual noise. It’s not polite but it is extremely fun.

He motions his head at the board, signing something absent-mindedly, and Ryan can gather enough from the motions that he wants to know if they’re finished, if he can wipe it down. Sure enough, when the blank slate resurfaces, Ryan gets the next sentence in before Shane:

Just wanted to say thank u again
If you need anything (audio?) then I’ll help anytime, you saved my ass today I s2g!!

Shane snorts again. His laugh, when quiet and small, is a very endearing little wheezing noise.

I’m going to send you on my next lunch run.

And Ryan grins, because that’s the fairest favor he can possibly think of in return. Food! Why the fuck not?

I’ll Slack you if we head out tomorrow?

Shane doesn’t write anything - he just nods his head vigorously in agreement, and Ryan curses himself for not being able to ask him everything under the sun. Taco Bell? McDonalds? Something local? Is he vegetarian, does he have allergies, does he drink? Can he handle spice or seafood or chopsticks?

Instead, he leaves their conversation there, and figures he can instant message him with that stuff when it comes up.

In the meantime, though…

The solution to the language barrier is kinda obvious.

 

Chapter 2

A few weeks after the H Drive debacle, Shane’s working on what is honestly a baller slide with moving woodcut drawings when he becomes aware of a camera trained on him. This isn’t uncommon in the office, but it is uncommon for only two people to be staring at you when it happens, so this is probably not for a video.

Which means it’s personal. Ew.

In any case, Sara’s filming him, trailing behind Curly, who is rapidly approaching. As soon as Shane’s attention is captured, Curly signs at him, without pomp and circumstance:

“Ryan Bergara’s learning ASL for you.”

Shane detaches himself from his desk.

“What?” 

“I mean it,” Curly grins, “I heard he’s taking classes so he doesn’t embarrass himself. I think he’s roped a bunch of the juniors in too, even Steven’s been going. Were you aware?”

“Steve Lim?”

Curly squints at him. “Is your face gonna make everything a question today?”

“It might,” Shane admits. “This is the first I’m hearing about it.”

“Well, yeah, they don’t want to make a big deal about including you, man. They just wanna do it,” Curly replies. “I thought I’d give you a heads up so you weren’t too freaked out when they busted out the sign. But I also think it’s cute,” he adds, and his eyes are twinkling. He twiddles his hands in an odd little quirk that Shane’s ninety nine percent certain is to do with Salvadoran Sign Language. He’s sure Curly mentioned something about it before, but to his Midwestern ass, it kind of just looks like a shimmery little accent.

“It’s very cute,” Shane agrees.

He tries to copy the shape Curly uses, even though it’s a bit too overt for his usual tastes. ‘Cute’ where he comes from is one jab of the fingers, but Curly puts a swishy little spin on it that gives it a sympathetic twist. Sara probably signs it the same way.

“So what do you think of this covert lil’ operation?” Curly grins. “Are you ready for the world and her wife to come over to your desk and ask for transition animations in person?”

It’s possible Shane audibly groans at the thought, because he forgets to catch the noise before it escapes. (Sara laughs so hard she almost drops her phone.)

 

---

 

Ryan keeps his head down the day that they all finally decide to show Shane a little bit of language-based love. He’s not embarrassed, he would just rather see this play out from afar. Or at least not go first. Luckily, people more extroverted than him are dying to try it out.

“Morning!” Jen signs at him, as they wander past each other in the middle of the office, and Shane signs it back with a big smile. He doesn’t look too taken aback yet, which is good - it’s probably just because it’s a basic greeting, like saying bonjour or oui when vacationing in France or whatever. Standard stuff. 

But then Maycie says the same thing as she follows Jen, and Shane visibly stops for a second when she spells out: “11AM, T-E-S-T F-R-I-E-N-D-S, see you then!”

“Yeah,” Shane nods faintly.

And a little after that, Ryan spots Daysha over by Shane’s desk, smiling from ear to ear and interspersing signs with the whiteboard. Not to mention throwing similar greetings Sara’s way, and interspersing signs with out-loud speech.

Ryan breaks his own personal ice with a simple hey, how ya doing today?, which gets a fine thanks, you? in return. It’s expected and scripted and ripped straight from the ASL beginners’ classes, but it feels like a huge lurch in a different direction for him.

He quickly figures out that a lot of this is about remembering the rules - because, first and foremost, ASL isn’t English. It doesn’t use the same word order, it’s got its own rules about politeness and rudeness, and he’s not even supposed to sign someone’s own name at them. Names are only supposed to be for introductions and if you’re talking about someone, which is the hardest rule so far, because Ryan loves peppering in some direct address when he’s hanging out with someone.

He’s not even allowed to choose his own name, technically. The instructor said that they get given out by someone Deaf when you’re deemed important enough to come up in conversation. All of them are referred to one letter at a time, as they awkwardly try to recall an unfamiliar alphabet. 

But that’s okay. It’s only four signs. And Ryan likes the way it feels when he spells it out.

Nevertheless - they’ve dipped their toes in the pool, now. Personally, he thinks there’s no turning back for him now.

And this little foray into sign language gives Maycie an idea.

 

---

 

We Gave Up Sound For A Day • The Test Friends

 

“It’s seven-thirty in the morning,” Jen whispers, with bright pink earplugs jammed into her ears. “And I have just overslept, because I put these things in before sleeping and I didn’t catch my alarm going off! Sooooo I think that’s gonna set the tone for the day…”

-

Ryan’s at the wheel, checking his mirrors. “Pretty sure someone honked their horn at me earlier, but honestly?” he says.”I’m not bothered by it. I’m better off not knowing. It’ll just make me sad otherwise.”

-

Daysha and Maycie are hunched over a notepad that they’re passing back and forth. Whoever is filming taps Marcie on the shoulder to get her attention and she yelps, making Daysha startle as well.

“Holy-- you scared the heck outta me!” she says, out loud, and Ryan laughs from behind the camera. He points at the notebook, clearly trying to get a good look at their conversation, and Daysha holds it up so it’s clearly in frame:

It’s weird when I talk out loud
You get that too?
Yeah the buzzing in my ears of my own voice… I don’t like it :(
Yes!! I know I’m talking out loud but I can’t hear myself, I can only feel it. So weird

-

LUNCH TIME

“You want to go out for food?” Jen asks, in very unsteady ASL.

“Yes,” Ryan replies, lighting up, “I’ll ask S-H-A-N-E and S-A-R-A.”

He looks up Sara’s number in his contacts, and holds the phone up to his ear before he realizes his error.

“Man, I gotta stop thinking in sound…”

Daysha must be holding the camera this time, because Maycie comes over to join them and immediately advances on her with a pen and paper. She’s got a bashful little smile on her face, and she holds up her notepad with a pre-written message.

So Jen and I just watched a stream with live captions and it was….. Not Good.

She shakes her head and tries not to laugh. Ohhhh boy.

Meanwhile, Ryan looks up from the restaurant he’s just Googled with a weary thousand-yard-stare. He puts his thumb to his ear, his pinky to his mouth, and says, out loud: 

“Guess what? They only take bookings… over the phone.”

Jen deflates. “Well, let’s fucking walk in some place, then,” she says, and has to repeatedly sign ‘walk’ before Ryan gets the gist of it.

-

After some pointing and explaining between themselves and the guy who’s staffing front of house, the Test Friends are finally seated around a table.

Shane is delighted by everything which is occurring.

“The server asked me if I wanted a menu in Braille,” Maycie says, as Sara laughs her ass off beside her. “I’m hard of hearing today, not hard of, uh… vision!”

“I missed a call from my mom earlier. Today’s been… really hard,” Jen says, throwing her verdict into the ring and embellishing it with a couple of signs.

There were so many people who thought I could read their lips, Daysha writes out for them, and despite everyone agreeing with the sentiment, Shane clearly connects with it the most.

Ryan frowns intently as he arranges his limbs. “I feel like I’ve looked at people’s hands a lot more today,” he signs, intent on trying to get the words into the places they should be, and he’s captioned for his efforts. “And I sent a hundred emails. It’s been crazy.”

The last person interviewed is Shane, for whom Sara interprets out loud for the camera:

“I’m having a great time,” he grins. “Earlier I saw Brent trying to get Ryan’s attention for two whole minutes before he inevitably threw something at his eyeline. And I think Maycie’s jumped out of her skin, like, four times in the last hour, she startles super easily. The real fun is about to start now, though,” he adds, “because our food’s about to arrive, and three of these dumbasses ordered the same thing with minor changes! I wish them luck!”

“Yeah, I got food out of this trip, too,” Sara tacks on, as the rest of the group see the server approaching and react with varying degrees of fear. “So I’m with Shane on this. I’m pretty happy.”

 

Chapter 3

 

The video is released later that month, and a lot of the feedback is really, really nice. Just positive shit. Maycie is extremely pleased with it. 

So is Ryan, of course. But stuff’s nagging at him. He’s been trying not to pester Shane with too many questions at once - to be honest, more and more are being answered through his religious ASL YouTube binges in the evenings, which is helping. So today he’s limited himself to only a few pressing matters, playing on his mind. He likes figuring this out, bit by bit. 

He likes how much more comfortable Shane looks recently, too, when he happens to glance up and see Ryan approaching. But that’s also been temporarily put on hold in his brain. 

“Hey,” he grins, pulling up the adjacent chair. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“If it’s for practice then you don’t need it,” Shane says instantly. “You’re gonna be casually swearing in no time. You’ve picked it up so fast.”

“Thanks,” Ryan says, fending off the embarrassment. A lot of the work is giving his internal voice the dialogue structure he’s used to - which, he guesses, is what Sara has to do when she’s speaking for Shane in English.

But that’s not what it’s about, so he concentrates furiously as he pulls a fist shape from his shoulder, and says:

“What’s this? I saw it in the video. Sara did something similar, but higher up.”

“It’s my name,” says Shane, too casually.

“Oh,” says Ryan, out loud, feeling kinda stupid. He hadn’t known what to expect in a name, but even so, it hadn’t been… that. It seems too small for him, almost.

But Shane breaks into a grin. “It’s just an ‘S’,” he says gently. “You don’t have to try to use it. Spelling names is fine, otherwise you guys wouldn’t all be doing it.”

“But why didn’t you tell me?” Ryan bursts out.

It’s his name, it’s so weird that he never mentioned it.

Shane has the sense to look as embarrassed as Ryan feels. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t wanna make things harder for you, with extra signs and all. You’re clearly having to remember a lot right now. Here,” he says, and shuffles so that he’s facing Ryan dead on. The ‘S’ shape makes a reappearance. “I’d sign this for ‘Sara’--”

And he spells her name, before bringing the ‘S’ shape out from the side of his head. It looks like her hair - it describes mass, like her heap of dark curls.

“Oh, right,” Ryan says, copying. “So that's just for her?” 

“Yeah. Don't go trying to make your own one, you'll piss a bunch of people off if you do that.”

“Nah, I won't. Promise.”

Shane grins.

“I have an idea for a video,” he says. “I have for a while, actually, but I’m gonna need some help for it to work. And I wanna ask you. Want in?”

 

---

 

How Do You Say Someone’s Name In Sign Language?

 

“Well,” Ryan reads out. “That’s an interesting one…”

 

My name’s Shane and I’m profoundly Deaf. I speak English and ASL. I’ve borrowed my friend Ryan’s voice for this video, because I needed an interpreter for the 'signing impaired', haha. And today? I’m going to tell you about names. 

Names are staples of life. But when you can’t say them out loud, how do you communicate them? Well, ASL users will spell out a name using the alphabet - just the same as writing it, but with hands instead of characters.

 

 

See? That’s my name. S-H-A-N-E.

But if you take just the first letter and sign it off your shoulder - the ‘S’, here - then that’s also my name. It’s called a 'name sign', and it’s something specific to me, which the people I know can use in order to talk about me.

This name sign is ‘arbitrary’, so it’s a letter shown in a specific location. Spelling them in full counts as an arbitrary name sign too, and people with short names tend to stick with a straightforward fingerspelling, so you don’t have to have a special initialized one.

But… they are kinda neat.

Some families all sign them in the same location. I find this very sweet. Some families, like mine, have names which start with the same letter, so obviously that method doesn’t work in all cases. My brother Scott’s name is signed against his head, because he’s always stuck inside that big ol’ mind of his. And my mom’s is signed off her cheek. She smiles a lot, and she always knows what to say, so that works out pretty well in her favor.

Mine is because I kept my nose clean growing up: I was never in trouble, I was always dependable. People tell me I take on a lot. What can I say? I’m a sturdy man according to ASL.

But there’s another type of name sign, too. It’s called a ‘descriptive’ name sign, and it usually represents someone’s most prominent feature, or their personality, or a subject they’re closely linked to. This could be anything from their interests, their habits and behavior, or their physical features. I know people called ‘LATE’, ‘HAIR-FIRE’, ‘SERIOUS’, and even ‘BIG-NOSE’ - we Deaf people aren’t so sensitive as hearing people, and we don’t really see that kind of thing as offensive. If someone’s got a big enough nose for it to be their name, then they’ll probably wear that as a badge of honor.

Mine is ‘TALL’, by the way. It’s very exaggerated, but it’s also fluid, because I’m not just someone whose personality is in their shoulders - it’s also in my legs!

Nah, I’m kidding. The smooth motion of the way ‘Tall’ is signed for me - I hope - gives somewhat of the impression of a gentle giant. My friends in high school called me ‘Tall’ in this way, because they thought I had a notable height and a non-intimidating demeanor.

There’s nothing too harsh about the way people say it. I like it, and it’s who I am.

But don’t just take it from me. If you’ve seen me in other videos, you’ll know that this is S-A-R-A! She kindly interprets for me in the office.

 

 

Sara’s arbitrary sign is an ‘S’ coming out from her hair. But at work and among her friends, other people affectionately call her ‘Pencil’, because of her art skills. She's a talented lady!

 

 

Then this is my friend C-U-R-L-Y. He has a descriptive name sign - and you guessed it, it’s ‘Curly’. Who’d’ve thunk, huh?

So it’s not uncommon for people to have more than one name. You don’t have millions of 'em, but it kinda works the same way for Hearing people, in that different social circles call you different things. Someone might be ‘Miss Smith’ to their employees, but ‘Jane’ to their higher-ups. Their friends might call them ‘Janie’, their dad might call them ‘Lil’ Lady’, and their wife might call them ‘Sexy’. Like any names, it depends on who you’re hanging around with.

That’s not to say we’re just handing them out willy-nilly, though. Name signs are special. A lot of the time, they’re very, very carefully considered. And we’re not giving them out to every Tom, Dick, or Harry, either - you can’t just have one. They’re only given out by the Deaf community when you’re basically important enough to be spoken about behind your back. It’s a gossipy little gift, and a huge honor to get one.

Even if it’s ‘Big Nose’.

So if you’re Hearing, and you’re after a sign name - you can’t have one. I’d say sorry, but I’m not sorry, because no-one is entitled to everything. Until you fully connect with a Deaf community, you’re just gonna have to make like R-Y-A-N, and keep on spelling it out.

 

 

Thanks for watching, and if you have any questions about this video, then chime off in the comments. Maybe I’ll do a follow up video with some more ASL. 

 

---

 

Shane edits it into sections of his own signing, and Ryan adds his audio narration over the top, and when the relevant people come up in the dialogue they edit in footage of that person signing their name. Ryan secretly likes being last because he's nowhere near as good as Sara and Curly--

“But that's not fair on you,” Shane points out. “They've been doing it for most of their lives. You've only been doing it for a couple months.”

“I know, but the comparison is… uh,” he says. “Not kind to me.”

“It will be,” Shane says, “give it time.”

He takes a break from captioning his own dialogue, to keysmash in Curly’s direct messages. When Curly, clear across the room, hears the noise, he looks up - and Shane throws a quickfire message across the office. The reply is just as rapid and baffling. 

“Holy shit,” Ryan mumbles. 

“Sorry,” says Shane. “Usually I’ll bang on the desk, but he’s too far away. Modern problems require modern solutions…”

And he gets right back to typing, with whatever Curly had answered in mind. Honestly, Ryan’s impressed - he basically just saw them yelling clear across the room with their hands. 

“Shane?” he asks - not by sign, but by tapping his shoulder.

“What’s up?”

“How do you do that all day?” Ryan asks. “Surrounded by us? This is a whole building full of hearing people, it must drive you crazy trying to get around all of our stupid issues. How do you do it?”

“Quietly,” Shane spells for him, a wry smile spreading over his face.

“Was it difficult-- this might be personal,” he adds, and Shane shakes his head dismissively. “Was it hard when you were in school and stuff?”

“I went to a School for the Deaf. And college!” he tells him. “Plus my mom and brother are both profoundly Deaf, and my dad uses ASL, so I grew up surrounded by people who…”

His train of thought tapers off.

“But…” says Ryan, uselessly. “Now you’re here. By yourself.”

“I have Sara and Curly,” Shane says.

“But they’re not-- they’re not no-sound,” Ryan garbles, because he doesn’t know enough to choose the right words yet. “They have sound and sign. Is it hard to be by yourself?”

How the hell is he supposed to get this point across? Shane had an entire life in school, college, and Illinois, surrounded by signers and people from his culture. He had friends. He probably had romantic interests, because look at him, for god’s sake. The guy flew out west and now he sits silently at his desk in the corner all day, editing other people’s shit.

“Do you mean ‘lonely’?” Shane asks. He spells it out, before signing a motion that looks like shushing. When Ryan nods, he says: “I’ve been lonely sometimes, sure. But wherever I am, it seems like people are willing to talk to me.”

He fixates his stare on Ryan’s nervous hands.

Ryan feels himself flushing involuntarily. He’s gonna make this better for everyone. He is. There’s got to be a way to make their workplace easier on Shane.

 

Chapter 4

“Come on through,” Curly beckons.

“Where are you taking me?” 

“Come on,” Sara laughs. “It’s fun, I promise. It’s not evil and it’s totally safe.”

“Oh my god, I’m going to perish,” Shane says, and it only makes the two of them laugh harder. “I don’t want to be patient, I wanna know now so I can emotionally prepare myself for what’s coming my way. What if it’s a world of pain, Sara? What if--”

Curly holds open the double doors, and Sara pushes him through, and Shane sudden finds himself in front of the cameras. This is not unexpected; the grand piano is a bit of a shock, though.

 

---

 

How A Deaf Person Experiences Sound • The Test Friends

 

“I’m gonna win,” says Daysha. “I’m tellin’ you now, I’m gonna win.”

“Yeah, you probably are,” Ryan admits. He’s staring at the piano. Daysha’s professional pianist is striking away at the keys, and the lid’s closed, and-- and Shane’s draped over the top of it, flat on his back on a grand goddamned piano in sheer delight.

The aim of the game, Maycie explains, is to find the best possible way of translating noise for Shane, using any other senses and sensations they can think of. “Everything’s a surprise, too. Shane picks the winner,” she says, “and the winner is the person with the most fun idea for what sound could be. No restrictions, just be creative.”

“Yeah, this is pretty creative already,” says Jen.

The idea is that Shane can’t pick up the melody, but he can interact with the activity in ways that lets him appreciate it anyway. For the grand piano, this apparently translates to feeling the vibrations of the keys and strings housed inside, like… through his back.

(“Touch is gonna be a big part of this,” he tells the camera. “Guarantee it.”)

So the Test Friends are stood on the sidelines, watching the music work its magic.

“You having fun there, Shane?” Daysha calls out. She makes eye contact with Curly and Sara to make sure he receives the message.

Sara taps Shane on the shoulder before relaying the information. In reply - Shane tilts his face up, and gives a prolonged nod, with a big, big smile on his face. No ASL necessary.

“Look at him,” Ryan grins. “He looks like a snow angel.”

“I’ve never heard of a piano angel,” Maycie says, and bursts out laughing when Shane sweeps his limbs inwards and outwards. “Daysha, we had the same idea. Well-- similar, we had a similar idea. I’m a little worried, now.”

 

---

 

Maycie’s idea isn’t similar at all.

Following the calming tremors of a skilled, trained classical pianist, comes… Well, they’re a really nice bunch of people, and they love the camera, but not even they would use the word ‘calm’ to describe themselves.

“This is Electric Sway,” she beams, and Sara expertly spells it out for Shane. “They’re a hard rock garage band, and they’re gonna play for us today! They were really kind and said we could sit in on their band practice.”

It take a couple seconds to relay this to him, but once the situation is explained, he’s over the moon about it. “Yes!” Shane cheers, bouncing on his heels. “I love drums, and I love choppy guitar! It’s like, chunky. Rhythm guitar is the best.”

And all of those instruments are certainly present. Largely and loudly.

“Uh,” Jen says, rooting in her pockets. “Guys, I have these… I thought we might need them.”

She uncurls her palm to reveal several packets of ear protection.

“I thought these plans were supposed to be a secret?” Daysha says suspiciously, but she takes a packet of earbuds anyway.

“Oh, they were. I didn’t know about this, I just figured that if any of you guys came up with the same thing I did, then we were gonna want a noise shield of some kind,” she grins. Two spare packets are thrown across the room at Sara and Curly, and with everyone suitably protected, they’re all able to sit in with Shane while the band warms up.

“Just before we start - you guys can’t clap like normal,” Shane tells them all. (Curly firmly agrees aloud as he interprets for him.) “You gotta do it the Deaf way. It’s a lot of foot stomping and banging on tables and stuff, you gotta make your appreciation felt.”

“Holy shit,” Ryan mumbles, grinning away.

Shane points an accusing finger his way. “It’s rude otherwise!” he insists, and everyone laughs at the tone of voice Sara delivers this with. “Yelling is useless! Stomp those tootsies, goddamnit!”

And they do, after every song in the set. At one point, the camera focuses on Daysha: I can still hear it, she’s captioned, gleefully, over the top of the wailing guitars and crashing drums. It doesn’t hurt, but oh my god, this is loud!

Shane, meanwhile, is tapping his foot to the rhythm, and shaking his head in time with the glorious wall of noise that they’re all barrelling into, full speed ahead. If anything for the Hearing members of the Test Friends - it’s a hell of a concert.

“That was good,” Shane signs, somehow out of breath, as everyone curbstomps the carpet in gratitude. (In the background, the band find this hilarious.) “I can’t wait to see what’s coming next, I honestly thought I was gonna come to bodily harm today. But this is great.”

 

---

 

The reason for Jen’s pre-prepared earbuds becomes quickly apparent, when the footage cuts to an enormously dark and neon warehouse. It’s the last stop of the day; it’s late enough that quite a crowd is in attendance. There’s a DJ on stage. The audio is blowing out their microphones.

Not that Shane would know. 

“Oh, wow,” he says, and bobs to the baseline. “Have you guys still got your earplugs?”

Daysha squints at him as the whole group - including Shane - start to wedge foam into their ears. “You didn’t wear these earlier,” she says.

It’s true - he’s got little slices of pink and yellow sponge in his palm, and he’s figuring out which end is the ‘insertion’ end. “Don’t need ‘em, really. Nothing to damage,” he explains. “It’s force of habit, I guess-- parties at the Deaf Club have music and they are loud. When I was a kid, my mom would always make us wear the earplugs they gave out to set an example for the other kids there.”

“Thank you, Shane’s mom,” Jen signs, as Curly translates for them, and adjusts her own earplugs gratefully. “There’s bass in my whole chest already. It hasn’t even started yet. This is insane.”

“You planned this!” Ryan reminds her.

(It’s glossed over quickly, but Sara has to interpret for Ryan - he’d signed it without thinking. Shane cracks up at the split second look of sheer confusion on Jen’s face.)

“I actually didn’t bring you here just for the music parts, though!” Jen yells, making sure Sara’s still close by enough to pick up her voice. “They have a strobe show, dude! We’re here for the light spectacular!”

“The what?!” Shane says, scrunching his expression up so that it makes a question. He gestures at the darkness, filled with people letting music and god knows what else flow through them.

And that’s about the point where jets of bright green shatter the air around them into fragments.

Shane jumps. “Holy shit!”

The lower tones and drones are wide and dim, the wavelength shimmering from the force of the music; the higher drips of melody are thin, bright lasers, cutting the ceiling into sections and wiggling through the airspace between the group. When the synths come in, great grids of amber, orange, sky blue and pink descend on the dancers, and the artist starts layering shadows on top of the lights to create shapes and muted effects. Every kick and every snare and every single clap makes the lights jump back and forth.

It’s an assault on the eyes. The video has an epilepsy warning attached to it. It even mentions that they have a medic on standby.

Shane’s eyes are glittering with all the colors.

“Deaf parties,” he says, “they’re not like this. I’ve never been to something this huge before.”

“--but he didn’t just say ‘huge’,” Sara adds, screwing her face up with concentration. “It was, uh… Visually big. It’s-- What are you saying?” she signs at him, laughing, but whatever it is gets lost to the experience. Shane’s description is untranslatable.

 

---

 

(The footage mostly gets cut from the video, but Ryan’s event was wedged somewhere between Maycie’s band practice and Jen’s strobe rave. A couple of montage moments and bumpers make it in, which conveys the gist of it - that Ryan had played the guitar - but ultimately the idea had been two similar to the previous ones.

But it had still been a nice moment. Private, almost. It happens around the break between wrapping the band practice segment and traveling to the warehouse, when everyone else is eating and refueling and changing clothes if they need to. Curly’s present but he’s not really concentrating, because out of all of the Test Friends, Ryan can handle himself the best with ASL these days.

So Ryan takes the opportunity to show Shane his idea.

“You brought your guitar?” Shane says suspiciously. The sign is exactly as expected. “Are you gonna play for me, or do I have to try?”

“C’mon, genius, obviously I’m gonna play,” Ryan signs, unimpressed. “I mean, you can if you want, I just thought-- I don’t know, it’s smaller than a piano. I figured you could feel the sound better. It vibrates nicer than a piano, too.”

“All those strings are close by,” Shane says thoughtfully, and gestures for Ryan to continue.

So he sits down and starts to play.

It’s only an instrumental. Nothing too special or fancy, in his opinion. Nevertheless, Shane is entranced almost immediately, pressing his hand to the curve of the shell and watching Ryan’s fingertips move over the fretboard. These are some of the moments that make it into the montage - Shane running his fingertips over the strings and interrupting the piece, Shane asking him to show him the difference between high notes and low notes, Shane crouching down and fully pressing his ear up against the body of the guitar itself. He rocks on the balls of his feet as Ryan’s other hand plucks out the melody, inches from his eyes. He taps on the wood to feel the echo bounce around inside, and he lets his eyes flutter shut when the low drones reverberate against his skin.

Ryan hopes that if he’s flushing, then it doesn’t make it into the video.)

 

---

 

“They were all good,” Shane says.

Nobody likes that answer. Even if he can’t hear their complaining, he’d be able to tell just from the reaction of their faces. Even the framing of the camera tilts with disappointment.

“Fine, Jen won,” he decides. “That was a huge-ass strobe show, I’ll tell you that…”

And as Jen celebrates wildly, and Maycie and Daysha pout at the news that they didn’t come first, and then launch into asking Curly and Sara to ask Shane what the ranked results would be--

Well, even as Shane says that Jen won…

He’s smiling at Ryan.

 

---

 

 

 

A week after the video premieres, Jen spots Ryan in an outdoor dining area with a pretty girl.

“What’s he doing?”

“Shh!” says Maycie. “He’ll hear you!”

They duck behind the safety of the building again. They’d headed out for a bite to eat, except to their surprise, Ryan had also been at their restaurant of choice, complete with what looks like-- well, to be honest, it looks like a lunch date, except with a bunch more hands.

“Oh my god, this explains so much,” Maycie whispers. Pretty Girl wiggles her fingers a few times in front of her face, and Ryan bursts into loud laughter, and it all just looks very… intimate. “He’s got a Deaf girlfriend! Of course he has!”

“We don’t know that,” Jen says uneasily. She peers out at them: “I think he would have said something. Right?”

“Why else would he be so hardcore about learning ASL?” Maycie points out.

That’s a good point.

“Do you think Shane knows her?”

“I don’t think Shane knows every Deaf person in L.A., that seems like a big assumption.”

“Well, no, but he did mention that the Deaf community get wind of each others’ name signs and stuff pretty quick. I’m gonna ask him when we get back,” Maycie decided.

“Okay,” says Jen, “but I’m picking somewhere else to eat first.”

 

Chapter 5

 

Are things weird between us? Feel like they got weird.
Sorry if I was out of line somehow, let me know how to make it up to you.

 

Shane stares at the messages and wonders how Ryan could possibly blame himself for any distance. He still thinks he’s gonna screw up something culturally, but he treads the line between Deaf and Hearing content with so much apprehension and care that it’s almost impossible for him to let any potential offense slip through the cracks.

 

No, you’re fine, I’ve just been busy.
I’ll come by after this shoot?

Is that before lunch?

Yeah, I’ll be done by 11.30.

I’ll be here :)

 

---

 

Shane takes a seat. It’s one of those videos with the barstool placed in the midst of a single-color backdrop, and he’s hoping it’s not gonna be too intense. Then again, Sara’s asking him the questions, so it’ll probably be fine and even relatable for her in some places.

He doesn’t have any narration this time, because it’s a direct interview - it’s just gonna be Sara, signing and reading aloud behind the camera, while his own dialogue is captioned over his footage.

She flashes him a big grin, and he buckles up, so to speak.

 

 

A Deaf Person Answers Annoying Frequently Asked Questions

 

“I’m Shane,” he signs, “I’m Deaf, and I’m fluent in ASL. Let’s get into this, because people ask… A lot of questions at first,” he admits. “And some of them can get pretty annoying, pretty fast. Here we go:”

 

Can you lip read?

“No,” he says instantly. It’s a good one to start with.

 

Why not?

“Because it’s hard,” Shane whines. “Have you ever tried lip reading? Mouths are crazy difficult to work out! There’s mouth shapes and stuff in ASL, sure, but… You get the word given to you,” he finishes. “It’s not a guessing game. Lip reading is a skill, and it is a skill I am extremely bad at.”

 

Can you read?

Oh, god, this one.

“Yes. I’m Deaf, not illiterate.” Shane tries not to press his mouth into an irritated line. “Reading and writing is the main way I talk to people who can’t sign, actually. I’ve got a handy-dandy dry-wipe board on my desk in the office, and after his shoot, I’m totally coming back to like, ten detailed dicks drawn on it.”

 

Why do you own a phone?

“You can do this crazy thing on a cell phone called ‘texting’. Also sudoku.”

 

Can you talk?

Sara phrases ‘talk’ as a specific flavor of signing, which specifically means ‘out loud speech’.

“Like, with an audible voice? No,” Shane says. (He’s actually not too irked with this one.) “I don’t need to! I can’t hear people replying, for a start,” he points out. “I don’t know what words sound like, and it is really difficult for most people to even try learning to audibly speak. Most hearing impaired people who can talk aloud have hearing aids or cochlear implants which allow them to be taught that skill more effectively, but it’s not a skill essential to my life, personally.”

He prefers the whiteboard. And he’s already as bilingual as he can be when it comes to languages with sound, so Shane’s communication skills are already more advanced than people expect.

 

Would you ever get cochlear implants?

Shane reacts instantly.

“Absolutely not.”

“He can’t even get them,” Sara adds, slightly out-of-frame.

“I didn’t qualify for CIs because they would make me dizzy and blind!” he says cheerfully. “Which is good, because I didn’t want them anyway. My brother qualified and he did get some - and my mom qualifies too, but she didn’t want them either. So in my family, it’s an individual choice, we all have our reasons.”

He considers anything else regarding CIs:

“I also did not want robots in my brain,” he adds.

 

You don’t look Deaf.

“That’s not a question,” Shane frowns. “That’s just… rude.”

The camera angle switches - Sara is cringing.

“I always get: ‘you’re too pretty to be Deaf!’ So that’s a backhanded compliment if I ever heard one,” she says, and the pair exchange horrified, grossed out gestures for a few seconds. Ew. Ewwww.

Then Shane considers the question again, tilting his head at the ceiling.

“I suppose I could get one of those old timey ear trumpets. Would that make me look Deafer? Guys, I think I might get an ear trumpet--!”

 

How do you date?

Shane takes a moment to think it over, turning the idea in his mind like a prism. He hasn’t dated for a little while - he’s actually pretty happy where he is, focusing on the task at hand, day after day. There’s always new tasks; there’s always dependable friends. He doesn’t find he’s lacking, but that’s not what the question was.

“With a great deal of patience,” he decides on saying. It’s true. Maybe there’s a bit more effort involved than with the average Hearing couple. “ I don’t wanna be used for ASL practice. I don’t wanna be shouted at, or talked slowly at, for the better part of a dinner date. I don’t want invasive questions fired at me about how sex works when you’re Deaf,” he adds.

 

“Okay, last question,” Sara signs.

“Hit me--”

 

How does sex work when you’re Deaf? 

Shane wheezes. 

Then he pulls himself together, feeling the glint in his eyes even as he’s throwing his fingers towards the lens:

“The same as when you’re hearing,” he grins, “except you can’t get away with making noises to fake it.”

 

---

 

Ryan feels kinda mean for dropping that on Shane before a shoot. He’d forgotten about the video booked in for this morning, and he’s really hoping he didn’t stress the guy out beforehand.

He spots Shane striding across the office at around noon - they must have overrun in the studio.

“Hey, I’m so sorry about earlier,” he starts.

Shane waves him off, finally getting close enough to talk properly.

“Not at all,” he says, as soon as Ryan looks at him. “I’m sorry I made you think things were weird. You’re fine, I promise.”

Ryan likes way ‘PROMISE’ looks in ASL. It comes straight from the mouth and gets slapped into both hands, like bottling fireflies, like literally keeping your word - the only way he knows how to explain it, really, is that it feels the way it means.

“Is there a reason you’ve been out of it, then?” he asks. “You haven’t exactly been in touch the last week or so. I’m super worried I did something stupid or rude and didn’t realize it.”

“No,” Shane says again, firm as ever. “It’s-- No, just one of those things. I’m not mad, I promise. But I just wanted to ask you about something I heard, if that’s okay?”

“What is it?”

“Who’s your new sign partner?” Shane asks, and it’s so specific that Ryan immediately thinks: if he’s not mad, then what the hell is he?

“How’d you know about that?”

“Okay, don’t be angry,” Shane says, “but Jen and Maycie said they both saw you eating ASL-fresco with some kinda model type the other day. It was just by chance, they happened to mention it and I thought I’d ask you about it.”

“Oh,” says Ryan.

And then he laughs, because he can’t help it.

Shane looks totally befuddled. “What?” he asks.

“I-- That’s Isa,” Ryan says, cracking up. “She’s from my ASL class! Her name’s Isabelle, we meet for lunch once a week to practice. That’s all. It’s just conversation practice. Were Jen and Maycie gossiping about me?”

Shane waves it off, but just off the beat enough for it to be a cover-up. (In Ryan’s opinion.) 

“Nahhh,” he says. “Of course not. They were just interested.”

“Yeah, right.” Ryan’s gonna have a gentle (but stern) word with Jen next time they run into each other. “Me and Isa, we swap new words outside of class, we try and talk about how our weeks are going, that kinda thing… Describe the food and the place that’s serving it. We don’t kiss goodnight, if that’s what everyone was wondering,” he snorts, “I think her boyfriend would be really mad if that were the case.”

“Yeah, don’t be messing with that kinda stuff.”

“I would never-- God, Maycie and Jen are trying to get me beaten up! I can’t believe this,” he says, even though he can, and he shakes his head in faux-dismay. “So was that a big deal, or…?”

“Nahh, nononoooo,” Shane says, waving his hands in a warbling sort of way. “It’s just… You never told me about taking classes. Y’know?”

“I thought it was obvious that I’d been taking them when everyone else started signing,” Ryan frowns.

“It was,” says Shane. “But you never mentioned it. Or anything extra. Like chatty lunch dates.”

“It’s not a date. And I didn’t do it for the recognition,” he says awkwardly, throwing his point from his eye to his palm. “I did it so we could talk properly, dude.”

Shane’s eyes twinkle.

“If only you practiced the guitar as often.”

“Aw, fuck you.”

“Oh!” Shane says brightly. “Who taught you ‘fuck you’?! That’s amazing! That was perfect--”

Ryan tries to stifle his laughter, and tells him to shut up. They have a thing at ASL class - you don’t get to learn the swear words unless you come to the afterparty. And the afterparty is only open to people in the class, so if you wanna learn profanity, you gotta knuckle down and learn some shit. It’s kind of awesome. Who knew a middle finger could be so accusatory?

“Good form, good execution,” Shane says, using the sign for ‘use’ and making the twist of it razor-sharp in its precision.

There probably isn’t a sign for ‘execution’, to be honest. But Ryan just thinks Shane makes it look that way, somehow.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve sworn in my direction,” Shane adds.

“Really?”

“I’d have remembered it,” he says. “It’s usually the first thing everyone does. Hearing people, anyway-- It’s all they do, really, just swan over and ask me to teach them dirty words. I remember you not doing that, so… Thanks?”

“Was that supposed to be a question?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I feel like I should, but I also feel like the bar is low.”

Not getting told to fuck off on first introduction seems like a pretty sad novelty. Ryan’s not gonna lie about that. 

“Well, I’m glad I waited to bust out the mouthiness, then,” he says, except he spells out ‘POTTY HANDS’ and makes the corners of Shane’s eyes crinkle up.  “I’ll be happy to show those signs to anyone who bothers you, dude.”

He gets a ‘thank you’ for that.

But Shane doesn’t leave. He’s suddenly beaming his thoughts to the ceiling, trying to gather them up before they leave his clutches:

“People have learned sign for me before,” he says slowly. “But no-one’s ever stuck at it for as long as you have. BuzzFeed feels louder now, like I can see more of it-- even if it’s just spelling! Even if it’s shitty English grammar! It’s still more ASL. So thanks,” he finishes awkwardly. “Your, uh… Your stubbornness is extremely entertaining.”

“Get used to it,” Ryan spells out, earning himself a burst of laughter, and resolves never to stop, ever. Shane’s just gonna have to learn how to deal - because Ryan’s not going anywhere, and he’s got a whole lot more to say about that fact, goddamnit.

 

Notes:

You can find me on twitter and tumblr if you wanna come say hi!

DEAF!UNSOLVED SERIES:
Show Us A Sign
Watch Your Language [prequel]
Know You Like the Back of a Hand [sequel] - to be published soon!

 

More of my Ryan/Shane content can be found here!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Deaf!Unsolved