The skin around Nick’s thumb was raw and red from all of the thinking that had been done that day. Alaina was gone and he sat alone in his hotel room. She’d gone to visit her parents saying simply that there was no need for her to stick around for the last week of the tour, that she knew the show by heart and that she could get his house ready for him. His words let her go without a fight but his thoughts screamed for her to stay and not leave him alone. Again, his rationalizations were that if she really loved him, that she’d know that he couldn’t be alone. Silence and isolation were his two biggest enemies. He’d tried in vain to find someone to come and spend the week with him. His parents and sisters were with Aaron. His friends all had plans that couldn’t be changed. His best friend, the one person he knew that would do anything to come be with him if needed, was stuck working and couldn’t get out of it. His bandmates had their own lives and families to keep them busy and none of them really wanted to babysit him anyway. So, there he sat, his computer getting the brunt of his frustrations.
Several chapters of his as of yet untitled fan fiction had been banged out that night and he was nowhere near tired. The amount he wrote was probably tripled what was on the disk, but he’d rewritten everything over and over because with his state of mind, poor fictional Nick was about as pathetic as one could ever be. He thought that if he wrote everything out, he’d gain some sort of perspective on the situation, but all it did was frustrate him more. He didn’t even know why he was writing. It’d been a few weeks since he’d sent off the last chapters to Jill and she hadn’t responded. She probably thinks I’m pitiful too. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, then his computer chimed, signaling a new email message. Clicking it open, he was damn near shocked when he saw her name
How ironical, he smiled to himself.
Quickly scanning the email, his jaw dropped. She knew! Someone out there actually knew what it felt like! He reread the email again and wondered if maybe he was reading too much into it. Maybe what she said was just in passing and that she didn’t really understand, she was just doing that girly sympathizing thing. He had to find out though. Not only to have an actual person to discuss things with but someone that could commiserate and empathize. He winced as his teeth raked across the rough skin, but paid it no mind. Hitting reply, he carefully chose how to word this email, purposefully ignoring the request to host it.
Jill,
I have to tell you again that I’m still in shock by how much you like my story. I’ll probably continue to think it’s crap until my dying day but it really does mean a lot that you seem to be touched by it. Speaking of which, I was wondering what you meant about you and your boyfriend. I know you said that I probably wouldn’t want to hear know all that stuff but really I do. I mean, I know you can’t mean that things between you and him are as bad as with Nick :). I just ask because this story is kinda written from personal experience and if you need someone to talk to, I totally know what you’re going through. I was wondering if you were online at the same time as me, cuz I was on and your letter popped up. Maybe we can chat sometime. Do you have AIM? If you do, you can IM me at…
Nick stopped. Where could she message him? There were potential problems with him giving out his real sceenname. First off, what kind of girl would have the screenname “Truffleshuffle69.” And secondly and most obvious, should she ever find out who he really was there was the chance that she could sell him out. All he needed was more spam from teenies. And then it hit him.
If you do, you can IM me at jeannietheteenie. Shut up, I think the name fits me :). But if you decide that’s too weird for us to start IMing each other out of the blue, I completely understand. Anyway, here’s what you really want. Don’t freak out cuz there’s a ton of it. I don’t know what’s with me, but I’ve just been writing like mad. I hope I talk to you soon.
~Jeannie
After sending the letter, Nick sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. Glancing over at the bed, he knew he should try to get some sleep. But being alone always did this to him. If there wasn’t someone else within his immediate vicinity, he couldn’t sleep. Knowing that a restless night awaited him, he turned back to his computer. It had been a while since he had indulged in his secret obsession and there was one story in particular that he’d been hearing about for a while. The story had been recommended on many sites, and all he knew was that it had something to do with an assistant and a “Nick” that continually fucked up. It sounded about as close to him as someone who didn’t know him could get. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t read stories about any of the other guys. For some reason they always seemed incredibly improbable (not to mention, Nick’s role in those stories was usually the blithering idiot who wouldn’t grow up and stop playing his gameboy). But he could almost always get into Nick stories. He just enjoyed peoples different perception of him and how they thought that he thought. It sounded silly when he said it outloud. He hoped this story lived up to expectations. It was so hard to find a good story about him. At least not one that didn’t deal with him being superman all the time. Finding the desired story, he dragged the laptop over to the bed and made himself comfortable.
Nick awoke to a tapping on his shoulder and rolled his head over in the chair, Kayla stood before him. He licked his lips free of their dryness and cleared his throat, trying to get a bearing on when and where he was…
As he read these lines, he sighed in contentment, knowing that his thoughts would be occupied for several hours with this one.
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