(no subject)
Jun. 13th, 2004 08:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsJames came home with this huge England flag today, so we now have it hanging from the front of our house. It'll stay there until the European championship is over or more likely England is knocked out. Until then we'll fly our flag with pride and I'll moan about football taking over the tv and newspapers. The England/France match is on now, so crossed fingers.
Corey and I tackled the jungle that's our garden today. I'm sure I heard one of neighbours commenting on how long the grass is this morning. I could have been dreaming but it's the kind of thing she'd say, and really as it was about three foot long I don't blame her even if she did say anything. The problem is the FiL borrowed the strimmer and never brought it back so we had to use our hands and scissors. All I can say it's a good thing it's only a small patch of grass *g* I also moved the poor Christmas tree at last. Yes that tree, the one that was stolen at Christmas. It had no needles left and was nothing but sticks, but still it holds a lot of memories that tree, and it's the only one I'm ever going to have for outside. But it had to go, so is waiting to be taken away.
I also finally finished the ficlet I've been struggling with. It's Chris/Nick and is nothing like it was supposed to be so I'm not posting it there, just here.
Nick had been raised in the glare of flashlights. As a child his mom taught him publicity was good, and he’d never thought to argue. It was easier to play along, make faces or pout on cue, turning every situation into an impromptu photo session. At times, when he’d been tired or desperate to be a normal teenager he’d be sullen and uncooperative. Then stopped when they took the pictures anyway and he had to see his scowling face stare back at him from magazines and tabloids.
The cameras weren’t going away, so Nick decided to have fun, ignoring how they recorded every part of his life. They were a constant part of him, and he became accustomed to seeing the lenses follow his every move. He was Nick Carter, part of the biggest boyband in the world and he never forgot that. How could he when every milestone was highlighted by a flash?
He loved standing on stage, almost blinded by the lights and physically feeling the screams of thousands of fans. He’d smile instinctively when walking from restaurants and award shows, aware of the paparazzi watching his every move. Then kept on smiling when the flashes began to fade and he became plain Nick Carter, a boyband member temporarily without a boyband.
He missed the others, but at the same time was happy, excited at the thought of making his own music, bleeding his emotions into song. He wore what he wanted and grew out his hair, facing solo life with enthusiasm while ignoring taunts about his lack of success and weight. That didn’t matter as long as he could sing and perform.
Of course he was still newsworthy, but interest was never as intense as when he was young, Nick had the freedom he’d always craved, and he celebrated that with a relationship that could only thrive away from curious eyes.
He’d been friends with Chris for years, talking at industry parties and later, on the phone. It was a casual thing based on fleeting meetings, mutual acquaintances and the understanding that being a celebrity could be hard at times. They bonded over a hatred of Lou and a love of life that combined being playful with a childhood of too much too soon.
Half drunk and laughing their first kiss was an accident, a brush of lips in the middle of a whispered conversation as Nick turned nineteen. From that moment things changed, but so slowly that to others they seemed the same, friends only, two men who on the surface were as different as night and day. Darkness and light, young and old, naïve and bitter, backstreet and sync.
Only the closest saw how friendship evolved and changed into something more, deepening as the cameras faded away and Nick became comfortable in his own skin. They flourished away from the spotlight, enjoying each other for what they were, not what they were supposed to be and that was two friends in love; nothing more.
Corey and I tackled the jungle that's our garden today. I'm sure I heard one of neighbours commenting on how long the grass is this morning. I could have been dreaming but it's the kind of thing she'd say, and really as it was
I also finally finished the ficlet I've been struggling with. It's Chris/Nick and is nothing like it was supposed to be so I'm not posting it there, just here.
Nick had been raised in the glare of flashlights. As a child his mom taught him publicity was good, and he’d never thought to argue. It was easier to play along, make faces or pout on cue, turning every situation into an impromptu photo session. At times, when he’d been tired or desperate to be a normal teenager he’d be sullen and uncooperative. Then stopped when they took the pictures anyway and he had to see his scowling face stare back at him from magazines and tabloids.
The cameras weren’t going away, so Nick decided to have fun, ignoring how they recorded every part of his life. They were a constant part of him, and he became accustomed to seeing the lenses follow his every move. He was Nick Carter, part of the biggest boyband in the world and he never forgot that. How could he when every milestone was highlighted by a flash?
He loved standing on stage, almost blinded by the lights and physically feeling the screams of thousands of fans. He’d smile instinctively when walking from restaurants and award shows, aware of the paparazzi watching his every move. Then kept on smiling when the flashes began to fade and he became plain Nick Carter, a boyband member temporarily without a boyband.
He missed the others, but at the same time was happy, excited at the thought of making his own music, bleeding his emotions into song. He wore what he wanted and grew out his hair, facing solo life with enthusiasm while ignoring taunts about his lack of success and weight. That didn’t matter as long as he could sing and perform.
Of course he was still newsworthy, but interest was never as intense as when he was young, Nick had the freedom he’d always craved, and he celebrated that with a relationship that could only thrive away from curious eyes.
He’d been friends with Chris for years, talking at industry parties and later, on the phone. It was a casual thing based on fleeting meetings, mutual acquaintances and the understanding that being a celebrity could be hard at times. They bonded over a hatred of Lou and a love of life that combined being playful with a childhood of too much too soon.
Half drunk and laughing their first kiss was an accident, a brush of lips in the middle of a whispered conversation as Nick turned nineteen. From that moment things changed, but so slowly that to others they seemed the same, friends only, two men who on the surface were as different as night and day. Darkness and light, young and old, naïve and bitter, backstreet and sync.
Only the closest saw how friendship evolved and changed into something more, deepening as the cameras faded away and Nick became comfortable in his own skin. They flourished away from the spotlight, enjoying each other for what they were, not what they were supposed to be and that was two friends in love; nothing more.
