A.N: No, I really don't have time along with school to be writing fan-fiction. But this idea bit me as I was writing "Fallen" and wouldn't let go, even though Spencer's was supposed to be first…but I couldn't not write this! Takes place after iLY, by the way, and after iQ. Other than that, there's no specific time. Anyway, I don't own anything except my fingers. And I think that I don't even own those.
You know I dream in color
And I do what I want
After reading the fifth article that week on how she was supposedly dating the son of the French Representative (and, to his credit, the son in question was not bad looking) to the U.N, she figured something out about herself:
Carly Shay, the popular Web Show Hostess, had (accidentally) fooled everyone. Everyone without a life in the media, anyway. Didn't they have anything better to report on than the supposed love life of a web-show host?
She came to realize that no, they didn't, when she came across a headline that proclaimed "Teen Web Star dating Founder of ".
She decided that there were things on the Internet that she really didn't want to see and shut her laptop down, settling into her beanbag chair. Different phrases from equally different boys raced around in her head.
"…need a shelf for my Pewee Babies…"
"…rue this day!"
"I'm dumping you because you lied…"
"…I'd be totally psyched…"
"…one of a kind, just like you…"
She shut the second-to-the-last out—there was such thing as the Girl Code (not to mention that she didn't like him), but the last phrase reverberated around, making her remember the insane party at Kenan's house and the stupid charm bracelet. She guessed she had to thank Stephen for one thing (besides giving them one of their biggest audiences ever): He'd taught her one thing that they definitely don't teach in school.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
Everything she saw portrayed her as a 'typical teenage girl'—but really, really boy-crazy as the icing on the cake. She was apparently going through a guy a day, discarding them when she got bored like used tissue. And she guessed she should be happy—that was one more lie she could ignore, and lies weren't as harmful, in the long run, as the truth—but she wasn't.
What doesn't kill you makes a fighter
Footsteps even lighter
Doesn't mean I'm over 'cause you're gone
It niggled at her, a little pet peeve she'd tried hard not to nurse. Reporters were like an infestation of bugs, though. They kept bringing the past to the surface, just so past breakups could hurt again.
Dating was fun. She's a 17-year-old girl, and she's pretty sure she's allowed to date, so there shouldn't be a problem. But boys by themselves, when they weren't dating her (or stalking her)? They annoyed her, to be honest. Every fan boy on every street corner running up to talk to her persona of "Carly" turned irritating after the first hundred times. Carly Shay might be 'one of a kind', but 'iCarly' certainly wasn't.
It's not that she was ungrateful for the fame; no way she'd ever give up iCarly (while they could still do it, anyway). But every guy that'd liked her (barring one notable example that became like her brother) had never paid attention to her like that before iCarly. She was sick and tired of being a Web Show Host first and girl second, of getting what every girl would want, but feeling like a third wheel on all of her dates because they expected 'iCarly' and all they got was plain old Carly Shay.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger,
Stronger
Just me, myself, and I
She sighed, lacing up her boots for yet another date (and at this point she really wanted to stay home) that they'd auctioned off on iCarly (Sam's idea) for money for the school (also Sam's idea, as she was disappointed in the quality of the cafeteria food). She put on her best smile, looking less and less like the girl she'd been when she entered her room and more and more like the sweet hostess she tried to be on the show. With each step down the stairs in her obnoxious heels (why did she wear heels?) she sent a silent curse out to all the guys who'd dated 'iCarly' and dumped her when she tried to be just 'Carly'.
Cracking her knuckles, she answered the knock at the door and smiled brilliantly at the boy—Kyle? Cole?—as they walked down to the elevator. Time for another disappointment, she thought morosely. And I'll have a blister from these shoes. Just for once, just once, I'd like to meet a guy who didn't expect me to have a script prepared. Aware of how spoiled she sounded, she kept walking, keeping her head up and screaming inside as the grinning boy asked her to sign his back in Rainbow Sharpie.
Stronger, Stronger
A.N: Review, please! I can't improve if I get no feedback. I promise, one for Spencer's next (and his is a lighthearted one, don't worry. Should be lots of fun). Ugh, Carly was hard to write! Tell me if she was OOC in the comments!