A/N - This is going to be a one-or-two chapter fic. Maybe three chapters, if I get some inspiration . . But probably only a two chapter thing. I hope it's good enough to be read, but if not, whatever. All reviewers will be labelled as my personal saviours! I love you all!
He turned the T.V. on in desperation. It had been years since he'd actually been so confused as to actually use the piece of junk telly that had been sitting in his London apartment since leaving school. It helped clear his mind, and his mind definitely needed clearing now. He ran a hand angrily through his hair. The only show on was a stupid one, something about super models competing for some sort of grand prise. He was about to change the channel when he took a closer look at the screen. Maybe he would keep it on that channel, after all.
For the next two days, that was all he did. He sat in his living room, fretting about life and watching beautiful girls from all over the world model in evening wear and casual wear . . . And swimsuits. Dear God, how he loved the swimsuits. He sat up close, on the floor, not moving, just staring at the screen for hours on end. Even when the commercials came on, he still stared, knowing that there would be more, wishing for it. And when the show ended, he would turn the T.V. off, and just sit there on the floor, maybe sleep a little bit, but he would always be awake for 6:00 p.m., when the Miss World competition continued.
But the reason he watched, the first thing he'd seen, was Miss Great Britain. He knew those eyes, though he couldn't remember from where. He had a sneaking suspicion that he knew her from school, but surely, surely he'd have remembered? He stared at her, practically drooled when she came out in a swimsuit, and thought intensely about who it could be. His mind ran through all the names from his school days as he watched her walk down the runway, parading that delectable body. He considered all the possibilities, went through each name, each memory like a computer; analysing, comparing, and discarding. In the end, he was only faced by one, inexplicably confusing, name.
But it couldn't be. It just couldn't be! She couldn't have blossomed like this, with his knowing, without his realising . . . But he hadn't been in touch with anyone, lately. When the battle was finally over, when they said he had nothing to fear, he still did not come out of his shell. He'd joined the ranks of the normal, and as someone (he couldn't remember who) had once said, there was no turning back. But he could always go forward.
He glanced at the screen again, having buried his head in his hands, trying to think. What he saw made his mind up for him.
Book tickets to see the grand finale of the Miss World competition! The first person to call in will win a trip to grand New Delhi, India, and will get to meet the winner of the Miss World competition! Call the number on the screen NOW!
What the hell, he thought. Might as well give it a try. He picked up his telephone, gazed for a moment at the buttons in consternation, then began dialling. It rang once, twice . . .
"You are our very FIRST caller! You win a trip to exotic New Delhi and get to meet with the winner of the Miss World competition! What's your name and where do you live?"
Slightly surprised by the enthusiasm of the girl on the phone, he gave her the desired information. Hanging up, he thought about how lucky he was. I hope she wins. He thought.
A/N - Hope I left you all hanging! The person who guesses who it is gets . . . personal mention on this fic! But then again, so does everyone else! So guess! GUESS! See if you can figure out who it is!
Maddy