Ok, so I know I should be working on the next chapter of The Jump, but this idea got stuck in my head when listening to this song, and it refused to go away...
Just a note, I dont hate any of the characters I may or may not bash in this story, they just had to get hurt for me to finish it, and I'm sorry for it.
Disclaimer: I dont own the Total Drama series or any of the characters or storylines. Neither do I own "your biggest fan", that's owned by nevershoutnever
EDIT: Does nothing I upload on this site come up right anymore? It's like it hates me or something...
I'm a real big fan of yours
But I'm quite the joke to you...
Gwen
You may not ever read this, but in case you do, I just want you to know that I'm your biggest fan, and I love you. It may sound creepy, and slightly annoying, but I love you.
I don't know why I do though.
I mean, I do know why, in a way. You're beautiful, talented, smart, witty, and your personality just makes me want to smile every time it shines through you, even if you're not smiling back.
But I don't know why I still love you, because you don't love me back. And I doubt you ever will.
See, when I was little, and I was crying because the kids at school were teasing me for being a geek, my mother used to hop into my bed next to me, wipe the tears from my eyes, and say something that never failed to make me smile with hope.
She would say to me, "Cody, it doesn't matter what those children say about you, because to me, you are the most special child in the world, and no one can stop me from thinking that. And, if the mean bullies don't stop teasing you…you can wish for a big bad dragon to fly down from the sky and eat them all up!" Mum would then tickle me, I would giggle, and then the lights would go out and my dreams would be full of dragons eating the mean kids.
Back at school, no matter how hard I wished, dragons would not fly down from the sky, and my classmates went on teasing me. I thought it was because I wasn't wishing hard enough, so every night, I wished and wished that the bullies would stop teasing me.
It didn't work. Nothing ever worked for me.
Two years ago, my mum died of cancer. I wished then that she wouldn't die, that the cancer would go away, that someone out there would find a cure just in time, and she and I could stay a family.
It's just me and my dad now. The house isn't the same without her. It never will be.
I stopped believing in wishing after her funeral. The dirt slowly piling on top of her grave was proof that it just didn't work, and that I was a fool for trying.
The next year, I started high school. And that's where I met you.
Do you remember when we first met? You probably don't, I wouldn't expect you to.
It was in the line to the canteen at the cafeteria. You were right in front of me. I didn't see your face until the lady had finished serving you and you turned around. Our eyes met for a split second, before you walked off. I wanted to follow you, but the line was growing longer behind me and slowly getting more impatient. By the time I had my food, you were gone.
I'm not sure why I wanted to follow you. I think it was your eyes, they were the most beautiful eyes I had-have-ever seen. Sometimes, I think it was in that split second that I fell in love with you. And other times, I think it was on the second day of high school, in art class.
My mum was an artist, one of the best I've ever seen. Her paintings were framed and placed on almost every wall of the house. The walls of my bedroom have a pirate scene painted across them, with me on top of a ship, holding a sword and fighting an English general for a chest of treasure.
I was never a good artist-better with the written word. Mum said it was a different type of art, but I think she was just trying to be nice.
You're a fantastic artist, Gwen. I remember when I walked into art class, and you were sitting at a table on your own, sketching a leaf on a tree branch outside the window. Everyone else was taking advantage of the teacher being late to chat to their friends, but you had already started. That's when I learnt that art was a passion of yours, instead of something to do just to pass the time.
It took all the courage in me to walk up to your table, and sit down across from you. You looked up from your sketch-pad, and stared at me, half glare, half boredom.
"You want something?" you said. It took me a few seconds to answer, I was at slight awe that you were looking at me.
"Can I sit here?" I asked.
You shrugged and replied, "It's a free country" You then went straight back to drawing the leaf. I could see the concentration on your face as you looked out the window, then back to the paper to draw the small, steady lines.
"I'm Cody" I said, awkwardly. I never have been good at talking to girls, especially ones that I like.
"I'm Gwen" you answered back without looking up. I admired your concentration, I still do. I admire a lot about you. The teacher then came in, and all hopes of me striking a more engaging conversation with you went out the door.
The next few lessons, we sat at the same table, and I think you started to warm up to me a little. We would talk about how our projects were going along, school, our families, and other random things. I even made you laugh a few times. Once I'd heard it, I wanted to hear it again. You have a beautiful laugh.
I didn't sit with you at lunch though, or walk with you down the halls. You said it was because you preferred to be alone, and I respected that.
Now, I think it's because you didn't want to be seen with me.
A term into the year, and we were both at my house, working on a joint assignment. You were talking about how Van Gogh was your favourite artist, and how his works inspired you to start painting and drawing, when it just slipped out. Those three little words.
I love you.
You looked at me with a blank expression on your face, and I was mortified. I couldn't believe that I had said that, it must have scared you so much.
I was so shocked when you moved over to me, kissed me softly on the lips, and told me you loved me too.
Later that night, when lying in my bed, I felt happier then I had in years. Wishing had finally worked, and you loved me back. You said you loved me back.
At school the next day, I waited near your locker for you. I bought you a red rose, because you always loved drawing them.
When I saw you walking down the halls on Trent's arm, I threw the rose in the bin.
My first crush when I was a child was on a girl called Bridgette Summers. She was a blonde, green eyed girl, who was the sweetest person I had ever met. Bridgette was the only person at school who didn't tease me, and actually liked me. We made plans to travel to England to meet the queen, as well as plans to get married under the big slide (I proposed with a red candy ring).
Bridgette moved to California one day, and I was crushed. I thought at the time that the pain I felt in my heart was as bad as it got.
What you did to me, walking down the halls with Trent, it hurt a thousand times more.
I thought that maybe I had dreamed up all of the previous afternoon, that it hadn't happened. But then you looked over your shoulder, and your eyes met mine. They were full of guilt. It was then that I knew that I hadn't dreamed it all up.
In art that day, I sat on my own.
Three weeks later, you came up to my table in the cafeteria. We hadn't spoken in that whole time, and I was convincing myself that I didn't need you. That I was better off without you.
You asked if we could be friends, and I quickly replied with an eager yes. The grin on your face is permanently etched into my memories.
It was at that moment that I knew I was never going to stop loving you, no matter how hard I tried.
Do you know what it was like being your friend? Being so close to you, hanging around with you, talking to you, yet not being able to kiss you or hug you for long periods of time, yet watching some other guy doing just that?
It was torture Gwen, pure torture.
I do get why you chose Trent though. He's a great guy, we're still good friends. I think he still loves you too, you're a hard person to get over.
What I don't get is that when you left Trent, you still didn't choose me.
I loved you, I even told you I did. You knew I was there, I'm always going to be here. I stick up for you, I help you, I listen to you, and I talk to you.
Yet, when you were looking for a boyfriend, you skipped right over me.
Duncan? Really? Of all the people in the school you could have chosen, you picked Duncan.
It made sense, I guess. You both like the same music, watch the same shows, have the same style. But Duncan's a jerk, why would you pick him? I'm not a jerk, I would take care of you.
Maybe you don't want to be taken care of, maybe you do want your heart broken, just to see what it feels like. Here, let me ruin the surprise for you.
It freaking hurts.
You know, all that time I thought I knew you and I thought I had you all figured out, I was wrong. I have you figured out now though Gwen; I've put all the pieces together and can now see the answer to the puzzle.
It's all about your image, isn't it?
Everyone thinks you're one of those girls who don't care what other people think about them. But you're not, are you? You do care what people think about you, so long as it's what you want them to think.
When we were friends, and I went to your house, I saw pictures of you as a child that your mother placed along mantle tops and shelves around your home. You looked happy and carefree, dressed in bright clothing, accessorised with huge smiles.
That's the real Gwen, the Gwen I want to meet and fall in love with. The whole Goth façade you have going, the "I don't care" routine? It may be some people, but it's just not you, is it Gwen? It's just something you want people to see. You think that they won't like you for who you are, so you reject them before they rejected you.
If I were to meet the real Gwen, I would never reject her. I could never reject you.
See now Gwen, Duncan's not going to be around forever. He's going to grow tired of you, just like he did with his previous girlfriends. I've already seen him eyeing Heather, so I'd give your relationship another few weeks. Maybe less.
Whereas I? I would never grow tired of you.
You don't return my calls anymore, and you ignore me in class. I'm sorry for telling you I love you again, but I just wanted to make sure you still knew. Even if you don't care, I still want you to know.
I always want you to know.
When you see this letter in your mailbox, you're probably going to see my name in the return address on the back, and rip it up before reading it. This may be a waste of time, writing a letter that's never going to be read, but I don't care.
I love you. And I'm sorry for loving you.
I'm sorry for not being your dream guy, and instead being me. Cody. The gamer-geek who no one ever takes seriously. I'm sorry I didn't fit your perfect image.
Lots of love,
Cody Matthews
President of the Gwen Fan-Club
Again, I feel I am incapable of writing happy endings. Maybe I'll succeed again one day...but till then, R&R