This is a love actually fanfiction. I saw the movie, and I felt compelled
to write a fanfiction about it, even though I've never written one before.
Oh well, instincts come at weird times. =D
It's focused on Mark/Juliet and it will alternate between Mark's and Juliet's POV, their thoughts during the movie itself and after the movie.
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing Richard Curtis' idea.
Mark's POV
My best friend's getting married today. Good old Peter. I've known the bloke since we were kids, mere teenage punks. And look at him now, all grown up and getting married. Common sense of course would make me, his best friend, buddy of twelve years, the best man.
It's the happiest day of Peter's life.
And the saddest day of my life.
The church's really huge, all sunny and filled to the brim with tons of people. His friends, her friends, his and her friends. well, you get the idea. And there I stood, all uncomfortable and stuffy like my grandpa Doyle in my wedding tie and coat.
"No surprises?" Peter asked me, out of the blue, and it took me a moment to register the question. Stag night, male Brazilian prostitutes, you get the picture. Terrible mistake, and I'll be the first to eat that English pride and agree.
The music started, and the doors opened. I picked my video cam, and started recording. I told Peter it was to remember his big day, but I lied. I would rather flush my head down the toilet. I wanted to see her.
Juliet.
You know how everyone has that ONE person made for them? Just one in the whole bleeding world? Juliet's my ONE. I knew it, felt it in my bones even before I knew her name. The video caught her smile, and I choked. Blond hair, bright smile, warm personality(so very uncommon for English girls). She was every Englishman's dream.
I zoomed out to catch her in her white gown that hugged her every curve. Her wedding dress.
The girl I love is marrying my best friend today. I wanted more than ever to stop the wedding, to scream out, to declare my eternal love for her, but I don't. Being the pathetic loser that I am, I film her, quietly, like an old perv, only much younger. A young perv then. Bloody hell.
The only consolation I have is that she doesn't know I exist. I mean, she knows I exist. I am her husband's best friend; we've met, we even hung out for awhile. I am, English, and being curt is like my defensive mechanism. The very dry British wit and curtness, passed down from generations to generations.
The point I'm making here, (and yes, there is a point), is that I'm head over heels in love with my best friend's newly-wedded wife, and she thinks I can't stand her. Blame it on the genes.
I hear the choir starting to sing "All you need is love". Ah yes, a little surprise from me to my best friend. I love the man, he's like my brother, and I'd do anything to make sure it stays that way, even if it means ripping my bloody heart out.
Here come the instruments. Great! Time to put on a smile, and be Mark, Peter's best friend.
Bloody fucking hell.
+++
OK. This is my first fanfiction, so please, spare the flames for now. If you need me to correct anything, just tell me. So em, review!
It's focused on Mark/Juliet and it will alternate between Mark's and Juliet's POV, their thoughts during the movie itself and after the movie.
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing Richard Curtis' idea.
Mark's POV
My best friend's getting married today. Good old Peter. I've known the bloke since we were kids, mere teenage punks. And look at him now, all grown up and getting married. Common sense of course would make me, his best friend, buddy of twelve years, the best man.
It's the happiest day of Peter's life.
And the saddest day of my life.
The church's really huge, all sunny and filled to the brim with tons of people. His friends, her friends, his and her friends. well, you get the idea. And there I stood, all uncomfortable and stuffy like my grandpa Doyle in my wedding tie and coat.
"No surprises?" Peter asked me, out of the blue, and it took me a moment to register the question. Stag night, male Brazilian prostitutes, you get the picture. Terrible mistake, and I'll be the first to eat that English pride and agree.
The music started, and the doors opened. I picked my video cam, and started recording. I told Peter it was to remember his big day, but I lied. I would rather flush my head down the toilet. I wanted to see her.
Juliet.
You know how everyone has that ONE person made for them? Just one in the whole bleeding world? Juliet's my ONE. I knew it, felt it in my bones even before I knew her name. The video caught her smile, and I choked. Blond hair, bright smile, warm personality(so very uncommon for English girls). She was every Englishman's dream.
I zoomed out to catch her in her white gown that hugged her every curve. Her wedding dress.
The girl I love is marrying my best friend today. I wanted more than ever to stop the wedding, to scream out, to declare my eternal love for her, but I don't. Being the pathetic loser that I am, I film her, quietly, like an old perv, only much younger. A young perv then. Bloody hell.
The only consolation I have is that she doesn't know I exist. I mean, she knows I exist. I am her husband's best friend; we've met, we even hung out for awhile. I am, English, and being curt is like my defensive mechanism. The very dry British wit and curtness, passed down from generations to generations.
The point I'm making here, (and yes, there is a point), is that I'm head over heels in love with my best friend's newly-wedded wife, and she thinks I can't stand her. Blame it on the genes.
I hear the choir starting to sing "All you need is love". Ah yes, a little surprise from me to my best friend. I love the man, he's like my brother, and I'd do anything to make sure it stays that way, even if it means ripping my bloody heart out.
Here come the instruments. Great! Time to put on a smile, and be Mark, Peter's best friend.
Bloody fucking hell.
+++
OK. This is my first fanfiction, so please, spare the flames for now. If you need me to correct anything, just tell me. So em, review!