Amihan (ə-'mi-hən) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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greenstickered2012-07-10 10:43 pm
camalyng) wrote in greenstickered2012-07-10 10:43 pm
Entry tags:
NZ ads: Spoon
Title: Spoon
What: New Zealand commercial fanfiction - fragments
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Words: ~1600
Summary: You and George, you two go way back, and Monique's probably always thought you're dumb.
Notes: From last year's NaNoWriMo; unlikely to be finished but there are some bits I liked so this gets posted anyway. Based on "Legend", despite plans to include others.
Sample: You’re fourteen years old, you’re in Year 10, and you’re pretty sure that this is how it feels to be in love.
The first time you lay your eyes on Monique, you’re pretty sure that she’s legitimately the hottest, if not even the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen in real life and not just on old magazine covers at the dairy or in those TV trailers for movies that you always say to George, “hey, bro, we should so go watch that when it comes out” except the two of you always spend your pitiful allowances on lollies, chips (never wedges, not after that one time you somehow managed to get food poisoning from the wedges at the school tuck shop), and random sausage rolls so neither of you ever have enough money to actually go to the movies so years and years later when the movie finally gets shown on TV2 or some other free to air channel (neither your family nor George’s can afford Sky), George somehow sees it before you because he forgot to ring you and tell you it was on and you get mad at him for a few days because he made you miss out on seeing the hotness of whatever girl it was this time for yourself.
She might be that girl who just moved up from Auckland or something, you vaguely remember; she’s in one of your cousin’s form classes and though he’d said “a really hot girl from Auckland just came into our class today” a few weeks ago you hadn’t really been listening or believed him at the time; the dude does kind of have a habit of making shit up to make everyone he knows jealous. It doesn’t really seem to matter right now, because you’re in assembly and everyone knows that assemblies are boring as shit so you’ve got your phone out, only you’ve already used up all your texts for this month so you’re actually just playing Snake, and by some miracle probably sent down from the Big Guy Himself you’re actually doing not too badly when you’re usually really rubbish at it. Except then your mate Jamie sitting next to you elbows you because your form teacher’s actually looking down your row now, so you hide your phone under the hem of your too long blazer and mutter, “Fuck him,” because you’re so going to lose that game of Snake now, and you look up at the stage in a poor attempt to make it look to your form teacher like you’ve been paying full and complete attention this whole time, and—
There she is.
It’s one of the junior premiere netball teams up on stage you think, like they’ve won their round or something; you never really understood sports that aren’t rugby, but from the medals the principal’s putting around the girls’ necks you’re pretty sure these girls have been doing well. And yeah, it’s mostly the same old girls you saw up there last year when this Year 9 team had done really well or something, some of them hot, mostly pretty average, half of them bitches, but you don’t recognize one of them, with her huge fringe swept to the side and headband and uniform skirt shorter than the other girls’, daring, daring. Those are really nice legs, and a pretty great bum too when she turns side on to go collect her medal.
The principal starts going on about how this young lady joined the team at the last minute after an injury took out one of their shooters, but you’re still not really listening at all, only now it’s not because assembly’s boring as shit but because your vision, your world, nah, not even your world, but your reality has narrowed to this hot ass girl looking out on the school, and you didn’t think it would be possible but somehow she manages to look even hotter when she blushes under the attention of the entire school and the principal’s gushing praise.
It takes Jamie elbowing you again and hissing, “Oi, space cadet!” for you to realize that oh yeah, you should probably applaud her netball team or whatever it is like everyone else in the school.
“Did you catch her name, bro?” you ask Jamie, while the form teacher can’t hear you over the applause.
“Yeah, bro, I think it was Monique or something,” he says. “Why?”
“Oh, nah, bro,” you reply. “No particular reason.”
You’re fourteen years old, you’re in Year 10, and you’re pretty sure that this is how it feels to be in love.
You never actually mention it to anyone, not even George, not even your fish, who knows more of your secrets than any human, so you probably shouldn’t be all that surprised when George starts going out with her in fourth term. He’s better with girls and with people in general than you are; whenever he invites you to parties, he’s always living it up and dancing up a storm in the center of things, while you just hover awkwardly by the walls, clutching onto a drink like you’re swimming outside of the flags and you’ve been pulled into a rip and it’s your lifeline. Hell, George is even generally a decent enough guy to respect the dibs rule, you’ve seen him back off of a girl Jamie liked before; it’s just that this time, you forgot to call dibs on her.
It kind of kills you to see them together. On one hand, George seems happy with her, or at least not unhappy, and what with mates before dates and bros before hoes and all that, you know you should at least pretend to be happy for your best mate. On the other hand, Monique doesn’t seem all too unhappy with George either, so you should probably be happy for her, too; aren’t you supposed to want the one you love to be happy or something? On the other other hand (if you’re talking to a freak of nature or something), it’s actually really cool to have her around more often and get to know her a bit more than just creepy stares from afar on the quad or at assembly.
And she’s actually a pretty cool girl: Just mean enough to be funny but not mean enough to be a total bitch, always up for a good time and some good food, not one of those annoyingy precious girls who’s on a diet half the time and drags everyone down with her, drinks you under the table, tells some interesting stories about Auckland but not often enough to look like she’s bragging or like she hates this crappy little small town and wants to go back to the big city many people in this town haven’t even seen except on TV. Now that she’s become a real person to you and not just a hot bod and face with some netball skills, you come to like her even more.
You’re not sure anything’s improved on her end, though. You always, always get tongue tied around her. Either you can’t say a word, which might actually come across as normal because you’re a pretty quiet guy most of the time anyway, or your mouth runs ahead of your brain and gets mixed up and you just end up blurting out some garbled mash up of pieces of different sentences that she says “What?” to and then you actually have to take a moment to try and figure out what it was you were trying to say in the first place before you can translate it for her. She probably doesn’t think any more of you than when George introduced you to her and you first met properly; she probably just thinks you’re dumb instead of just another face in the crowd.
It doesn’t last very long anyway, like most of George’s relationships, and when it ends you still don’t know how to feel about it: Gutted for George, gutted for Monique, or happy because you can now perve on Monique without the guilt of wanting your best friend’s girlfriend. George is made of steel or something and bounces back pretty quickly, and Monique doesn’t seem too cut up about it either, so you jump to happiness as soon as you can.
The best part about George’s respect for the Bro Code is that he knows when it’s worth it: Sure, he’ll respect anyone calling dibs on a girl, but he doesn’t expect anyone to not go after his exes. He has too many in this small town for that to really be fair to anyone who doesn’t have great plans to get out of here some day.
Summer is pretty amazing. You turned fifteen back in the middle of exams, so your mum finally lets you go sit your learners test. Contrary to your school exam results (especially science; physics and chemistry just don’t work in your head, though biology goes a little bit better for you), you pass your learners the first time round, and your parents are so surprised and pleased for you that they buy you a paddock car with no seatbelts for fifty bucks, so you spend a quarter of the summer driving around the farm with George hanging on in the passenger seat and singing loudly at the top of his lungs, and another quarter in the passenger seat of George’s car, which is actually fit to be driven on proper roads.
The last half you spend outdoors and not even outdoors in a car: Camping trips in friends’ families’ paddocks, splashing around in the swimming holes, drinking on people’s decks on hot summer nights when the house party gets too insane for you, name it and you’ve probably done it or thought about doing it.
What: New Zealand commercial fanfiction - fragments
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Words: ~1600
Summary: You and George, you two go way back, and Monique's probably always thought you're dumb.
Notes: From last year's NaNoWriMo; unlikely to be finished but there are some bits I liked so this gets posted anyway. Based on "Legend", despite plans to include others.
Sample: You’re fourteen years old, you’re in Year 10, and you’re pretty sure that this is how it feels to be in love.
The first time you lay your eyes on Monique, you’re pretty sure that she’s legitimately the hottest, if not even the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen in real life and not just on old magazine covers at the dairy or in those TV trailers for movies that you always say to George, “hey, bro, we should so go watch that when it comes out” except the two of you always spend your pitiful allowances on lollies, chips (never wedges, not after that one time you somehow managed to get food poisoning from the wedges at the school tuck shop), and random sausage rolls so neither of you ever have enough money to actually go to the movies so years and years later when the movie finally gets shown on TV2 or some other free to air channel (neither your family nor George’s can afford Sky), George somehow sees it before you because he forgot to ring you and tell you it was on and you get mad at him for a few days because he made you miss out on seeing the hotness of whatever girl it was this time for yourself.
She might be that girl who just moved up from Auckland or something, you vaguely remember; she’s in one of your cousin’s form classes and though he’d said “a really hot girl from Auckland just came into our class today” a few weeks ago you hadn’t really been listening or believed him at the time; the dude does kind of have a habit of making shit up to make everyone he knows jealous. It doesn’t really seem to matter right now, because you’re in assembly and everyone knows that assemblies are boring as shit so you’ve got your phone out, only you’ve already used up all your texts for this month so you’re actually just playing Snake, and by some miracle probably sent down from the Big Guy Himself you’re actually doing not too badly when you’re usually really rubbish at it. Except then your mate Jamie sitting next to you elbows you because your form teacher’s actually looking down your row now, so you hide your phone under the hem of your too long blazer and mutter, “Fuck him,” because you’re so going to lose that game of Snake now, and you look up at the stage in a poor attempt to make it look to your form teacher like you’ve been paying full and complete attention this whole time, and—
There she is.
It’s one of the junior premiere netball teams up on stage you think, like they’ve won their round or something; you never really understood sports that aren’t rugby, but from the medals the principal’s putting around the girls’ necks you’re pretty sure these girls have been doing well. And yeah, it’s mostly the same old girls you saw up there last year when this Year 9 team had done really well or something, some of them hot, mostly pretty average, half of them bitches, but you don’t recognize one of them, with her huge fringe swept to the side and headband and uniform skirt shorter than the other girls’, daring, daring. Those are really nice legs, and a pretty great bum too when she turns side on to go collect her medal.
The principal starts going on about how this young lady joined the team at the last minute after an injury took out one of their shooters, but you’re still not really listening at all, only now it’s not because assembly’s boring as shit but because your vision, your world, nah, not even your world, but your reality has narrowed to this hot ass girl looking out on the school, and you didn’t think it would be possible but somehow she manages to look even hotter when she blushes under the attention of the entire school and the principal’s gushing praise.
It takes Jamie elbowing you again and hissing, “Oi, space cadet!” for you to realize that oh yeah, you should probably applaud her netball team or whatever it is like everyone else in the school.
“Did you catch her name, bro?” you ask Jamie, while the form teacher can’t hear you over the applause.
“Yeah, bro, I think it was Monique or something,” he says. “Why?”
“Oh, nah, bro,” you reply. “No particular reason.”
You’re fourteen years old, you’re in Year 10, and you’re pretty sure that this is how it feels to be in love.
You never actually mention it to anyone, not even George, not even your fish, who knows more of your secrets than any human, so you probably shouldn’t be all that surprised when George starts going out with her in fourth term. He’s better with girls and with people in general than you are; whenever he invites you to parties, he’s always living it up and dancing up a storm in the center of things, while you just hover awkwardly by the walls, clutching onto a drink like you’re swimming outside of the flags and you’ve been pulled into a rip and it’s your lifeline. Hell, George is even generally a decent enough guy to respect the dibs rule, you’ve seen him back off of a girl Jamie liked before; it’s just that this time, you forgot to call dibs on her.
It kind of kills you to see them together. On one hand, George seems happy with her, or at least not unhappy, and what with mates before dates and bros before hoes and all that, you know you should at least pretend to be happy for your best mate. On the other hand, Monique doesn’t seem all too unhappy with George either, so you should probably be happy for her, too; aren’t you supposed to want the one you love to be happy or something? On the other other hand (if you’re talking to a freak of nature or something), it’s actually really cool to have her around more often and get to know her a bit more than just creepy stares from afar on the quad or at assembly.
And she’s actually a pretty cool girl: Just mean enough to be funny but not mean enough to be a total bitch, always up for a good time and some good food, not one of those annoyingy precious girls who’s on a diet half the time and drags everyone down with her, drinks you under the table, tells some interesting stories about Auckland but not often enough to look like she’s bragging or like she hates this crappy little small town and wants to go back to the big city many people in this town haven’t even seen except on TV. Now that she’s become a real person to you and not just a hot bod and face with some netball skills, you come to like her even more.
You’re not sure anything’s improved on her end, though. You always, always get tongue tied around her. Either you can’t say a word, which might actually come across as normal because you’re a pretty quiet guy most of the time anyway, or your mouth runs ahead of your brain and gets mixed up and you just end up blurting out some garbled mash up of pieces of different sentences that she says “What?” to and then you actually have to take a moment to try and figure out what it was you were trying to say in the first place before you can translate it for her. She probably doesn’t think any more of you than when George introduced you to her and you first met properly; she probably just thinks you’re dumb instead of just another face in the crowd.
It doesn’t last very long anyway, like most of George’s relationships, and when it ends you still don’t know how to feel about it: Gutted for George, gutted for Monique, or happy because you can now perve on Monique without the guilt of wanting your best friend’s girlfriend. George is made of steel or something and bounces back pretty quickly, and Monique doesn’t seem too cut up about it either, so you jump to happiness as soon as you can.
The best part about George’s respect for the Bro Code is that he knows when it’s worth it: Sure, he’ll respect anyone calling dibs on a girl, but he doesn’t expect anyone to not go after his exes. He has too many in this small town for that to really be fair to anyone who doesn’t have great plans to get out of here some day.
Summer is pretty amazing. You turned fifteen back in the middle of exams, so your mum finally lets you go sit your learners test. Contrary to your school exam results (especially science; physics and chemistry just don’t work in your head, though biology goes a little bit better for you), you pass your learners the first time round, and your parents are so surprised and pleased for you that they buy you a paddock car with no seatbelts for fifty bucks, so you spend a quarter of the summer driving around the farm with George hanging on in the passenger seat and singing loudly at the top of his lungs, and another quarter in the passenger seat of George’s car, which is actually fit to be driven on proper roads.
The last half you spend outdoors and not even outdoors in a car: Camping trips in friends’ families’ paddocks, splashing around in the swimming holes, drinking on people’s decks on hot summer nights when the house party gets too insane for you, name it and you’ve probably done it or thought about doing it.