Disclaimer: The characters are someone's….Some big TV executive probably. And the lyrics belong to the band "Elefant." The song is 'Now That I Miss Her.' If you want to hear it, go to and click the "Elefant" link.

A/N: I was obsessed with the aforementioned song. I am obsessed actually, I have it playing over and over again whenever I'm on the computer. I wanted to use it in a fic, and this happened. Hope you like it.

A young man sat at the bar, staring glumly at the empty glass in front of him. Few would recognize him, even from his early days. You might though, if you saw him. If you saw the deep, green eyes, and the messy brown hair. Do you know Danny Fenton?

He's just graduated from high school, but it's not the high school you remember. The one with the typical high school bully and the friends who you know will always be there for you. Except, of course, when they aren't.

Danny left his original life, left the friends and enemies you'll remember. Not by choice, mind you. He would have given anything to stay with Tucker, his geeky best friend. He would have given anything to have Tucker's jealousy back, Tucker's annoying comments and habits back. Too bad you can't always make that exchange.

And then there was Sam. Sam was another best friend, but Danny had never thought of her as just that. Sadly, he only realized that after he'd left the old life n the dust. Last he'd heard of Tucker, he was heading off to Harvard or some other impressive college. It was to be expected. Unfortunately from Danny, that news had not come from Tucker himself.

It had been announced on the news. Whiz Kid Gets Full Scholarship. And then, later on See I f You're Smarter Than This Minor. He remembered smiling weakly at the TV, thinking about how Tucker would lap it all up. Unless he'd changed. But Danny wouldn't know that.

He signaled the bartender for another drink.

Sam, consequentially, was everywhere. Her face was everywhere, as if it were haunting him. She'd done something amazing with her life too, not that Danny was surprised. She acted, she sang, she did everything. The worst part for Danny was the tabloids about her. There were rumours, and there was truth, and Danny used to know the difference with Sam. Not any more, though. He stared at the torn front cover of a teen magazine in front of him.

Teen Starlet And Hunky Singer?

Not Sam, he thought. Sam wouldn't do that to him. Unless she'd forgotten him.

When I first saw her, I knew that I loved her

When I said goodbye, I knew that I lost her

Now that I miss her, I wish I could kiss her

And tell her c'mon girl, you know that I need you

He couldn't bring himself to try to contact them again. They were important now; he was merely a near high-school drop-out who'd gotten lucky. He brushed the magazine off the counter, watching the pages flutter. Sam was gone, and she was never coming back. He was doomed to watch the movies, and tell people he knew her once. Maybe loved her once.

And without her, it all feels the same

And without her, you got no one else to blame

I went to the movies and stared at the big screen

I thought that I saw her looking right at me

He watched all of her movies three times each, as much as he could. He sat alone at the theatres after the movie became a dunce, wanting to pause the images and sit staring for hours. He did, at home, every night. He imagined Sam trying to find hi mall that time. Wanting him as much as he wanted her.

Imagination is a great tool in fiction. Reality, however, isn't as accepting of imagination.

He'd sat all alone in his room, day after day, writing down poems, letters, songs to send to her. To explain. To see if she remembered. He had at least three shoe boxes full of them, and he knew that that's where they'd stay, at the back of his closet in the old shoe boxes.

And without her, it all feels the same

And without her, you got no one else to blame

But yourself, but yourself

And all I can do is just write a song about her

And hope that one day, hope that one day

She turns around, she turns around

Danny Fenton spent months in that bar, probably, once it all added up. The tabloids followed him everywhere, and he longed for a news report without mention of Hollywood rumours. Unfortunately for him, they only developed more shows for just rumours.

His few friends from high school, no, not friends. Acquaintances. They'd all gone off to their back-up Universities, off to find a better degree of learning. He sat in the theatres and watched Sam's face laugh out at him. He cried, once. Let his sobs echo off the walls.

Sam's face smiled down at him as he left the theatre that night, heading out towards the bar again. The bartender slid him a drink as he sat down, and he smiled grimly. A soft voice carried out over the speakers; karaoke night was the bane of his existence, but the bar was too good to pass up for the loss of one dreary night a week.

I hear the phone ringing

I know that she's calling

I hear her voice singing

And this is her answer

But he recognized the voice. Suddenly, shockingly, he recognized it. Slowly, he swiveled his head to see a tall girl with black hair falling down to her shoulders. Her eyes were hidden by a pair of purple glasses, and Danny smiled briefly. Sam hadn't changed. Sam was Sam, even after three years.

She sang all sorts of things, even one or two of her own songs. To avoid suspicion, Danny thought. They didn't need a mob at the small bar. There was a thundering of applause when she was finished.

Danny walked up to the man who was clearly her bodyguard, though no one else seemed to notice that she needed the extra protection.

"Could you give this to her, please? I'll walk away, I'm not dangerous or anything," he said, handing the man a small torn slip of paper. He did his best to keep his eyes focused and voice steady; he didn't need the man thinking he was some crazed drunken fan. The man, to Danny's surprise, nodded slowly, and lumbered off down the hall after Sam.

Danny left the building.

Sam sat in a small car just outside the bar. Her newest bodyguard had handed her a small slip of paper. It was torn out a tabloid magazine, and had her face picture don one side. On the other, there was pale, scratchy writing. She read it curiously.

Sam, You won't remember me, but it's hard to forget you. One thing I'll always know: You are most definitely not my girlfriend. Have you kept in touch with Tucker? I heard about his scholarship.

Danny Fenton 668-0984

And Sam cried for the first time in years. Three years to be exact. She fished inside her small shoulder bag and pulled out a cell phone.

A/N: Sorry if that was confusing. Please review.