"Circular Logic"
by Invincible-Soul
Samantha Puckett
As she finished singing her final note, the enraptured audience broke out into thunderous applause and excited whooping.
She smiled brightly and gave a happy wave to her eager fans, "Thanks so much everyone! Hope to see you next week."
With a swish of golden curls, she hurried off the small café stage to make room for the next performer, as well as get back to her work as resident bartender. Singing made Samantha Puckett very satisfied with herself, because it let her take her mind off of everything else and just focus on the music. Sam also often sang songs she personally penned in her free-time for these weekly open mic sessions at Marty's. Most of these songs, admittedly, were of a specific brown-haired chocolate-eyed handsome friend who had probably long forgotten her. Either way, she would always remember him, and them together. Sam sighed; thinking about what she called the "good 'ole days" was both delightfully nostalgic yet tragically bittersweet.
As she returned to her familiar place behind the green marbled counter, her friend Kimberly rushed towards her to give her a bone-crushing bear hug.
"Kim, you'd think you'd be used to it by now. You know, considering I sing every week for two hours straight. Right here. In this café where we both work…" Sam laughed as she choked out.
"I know – but still, I just think you're so awesome!" Kim released Sam from her grip and went back to serving a few customers, but not without simultaneously asking, "So who is the person you sang for tonight? Same as always?"
Sam shrugged, not exactly wanting to talk about it. Sure, Kim was her closest friend, but that didn't mean such a deep dark (maybe more special than anything) secret was something Sam was willing to give up to someone else by talking about it aloud.
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Must be someone pretty special," Kim winked and nudged Sam while chuckling, "Lucky dude."
Sam chuckled back, "Totally."
Silently she wondered if she was in just a little bit too deep in her own mind. Thinking back to the late night specials on Channel 37, Sam shivered to think she might be like some of those crazy delusional people on TV – the ones that carry on a whole relationship with someone else in their heads, to the point where they become dangerous stalkers. She laughed inwardly, assuring herself that she was neither a psychotic freak nor a stalker.
Well, maybe not a psychotic freak stalker.
Indeed, she may or may not spend time sending Fredward Benson a dog tag or two every once in a while as she finds ones that catch her eye. He'd always been particularly geeky and/or nerdy, but one thing (the only thing probably, she thought mischievously) that made him slightly more masculine was his propensity for collecting dog tags. Good ones, however, were hard to find – but Sam couldn't help that, as she stumbled across a few at times, she would think of him and send them to his doorstep in packages that were never signed (definitely sketchy business). Because yes, she knew exactly where he lived, and just had never bothered to stop by in person and admit that fact to his face.
This was how Sam had been living ever since college graduation – and it wasn't a very extravagant or fairy-tale ending type of lifestyle, but it was comfortable and satisfying in its own way. She had great friends and fun once every week expressing herself to a growing following of fans on open mic nights, and wasn't in any sort of danger of eviction or anything.
So possibly the only issue was that she was still infatuated with a certain Freddie Benson, but she promises herself that it is in the least disturbing way possible. It might be because she's fresh out of college, but she really believes that she deserves to be a little naïve and place a lot of her heart and soul into a relationship she used to have with somebody that she used to know. It was a good relationship, almost perfect in its own little way. And they truly loved each other, except circumstances prevented them from attending the same university and maintaining consistent contact with one another. The fact that it was a high school relationship, and someone like Sam would be the most cynical about them, does not change the fact that it was deep, profound, and would probably remain a deep mark in her heart for a long while to come (maybe even forever).
Somewhere inside Sam she still hopes that one day they'll get back together – and she also believes it isn't impossible. She's only waiting for him to remember her, and come find her himself. As long as he knows she still exists, they'll be together again.
Sam grinned to herself as she grabbed a few glasses from under the counter to fill an order, "Why I do believe I just thought-talked myself out of committing myself to an institution. Good work Sam."
She laughed once more at her own silliness and lifted her head to glance around the room, glasses in hand, trying to find the table that had called.
Fredward Benson
It's not weird that he's been here every single Wednesday evening without fail for the past 3 months, is it?
Yes, his friends have started to interrogate him extensively for his journeys to Marty's with extreme punctuality and consistency, correctly surmising that it's for a girl. Considering it was a choice vacillating between a great cocktail or a hot girl (and Freddie doesn't drink, he's not that kind of a person), it was definitely the hot girl.
Though Freddie's face would turn extremely red and heated when they explained this process of elimination to him. And then scowl and tell his definitely immature friends that they're not allowed to call her "hot." Unless they mean like an afternoon sun. Because that would sort of make sense, what with Samantha Puckett's shimmering golden hair and rays-of-sunlight smile. God, he was so in love with everything about her.
Only problem with this was, she probably had forgotten about him by now, and especially because they were a high school couple – classifying them automatically as a not-going-to-last quick fling or bout of romantic feeling.
But it wasn't like that with him and Sam. He sighed dejectedly to himself, if only situations hadn't been so against them. Admittedly they could have tried harder, fought harder for a love that he claims was and is completely and totally worth it. But still, this doesn't stop Freddie for knowing for sure that it was and is still worth it. A hundred percent, without a doubt, worth it. And the reason he knows this is because her smile is like sunlight, and he can't live without her.
He just prays that she hasn't forgotten him, and that one day soon he won't be so shy as to stay in the dark shadows of the café looking eerily similar to a serial murderer lurking in search for his next victim, falling more and more in love with everything about her as she sings like an angel about, well, whoever or whatever she's singing about. It just better not be some guy.
Today, as she left the stage, he stayed thinking to himself and absentmindedly fingering the dog tags he'd grabbed this morning to fling around his neck for the day. He worked as a newspaper columnist, and an editorial a few months back had written about his love for dog tags – around that time was when packages had started showing up. Avid readers and kind-hearted fans, he supposed, were consistently providing him with new silver accessories for him to engage in his nervous habit of twirling them around his fingers with, and it was indeed very nice of them to do so.
No one knew, however, that the reason he loved them so much was because they were very much a manifestation of Sam. Fun to look at and inherently representative of courage and bravery (only the non-tacky ones, the actually good dog tags of course), and above all else kept very close to his heart.
He stepped out of the shadows of the alcove and got ready to go home.
"I'll see you next week Marty's." Freddie smiled and swept his eyes over the room as a silent farewell for the night.
Brown met blue, barely registering, as their eyes passed briefly over one another. Freddie opened the café door, causing the little bell to 'ding', and stepped out into the street. Sam found the table she had been looking for and hurried over tray and friendly smile on hand.
But life and love is like a circle: you can find neither a start nor a stopping point – it just is. So whether this day was a beginning or an end to Freddie and Sam's story, the universe and themselves just have to keep on living to see.
Author's Note: Yes, I'm perfectly aware that this story is neither here nor there. But I've been toying with the idea that above all else, life has neither a beginning or an end while you're actually still living it. Right now at this very moment, for example, Seddiers everywhere are wondering what the heck Dan Schneider is doing to our beautiful children. But what keeps us going is knowing that iCarly is not over yet, and there is still much in the story to come. If things don't turn out with happy endings and rainbows and butterflies, that's because it's not an ending yet - you're still living life, and Sam and Freddie are as well.