I'm so excited over this whole fanfiction business that I'm writing the
next chapter already! It's like the honeymoon period where everything seems
to be so exciting. Haha. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Richard Curtis thought the stories and characters. I'm just . . . borrowing them.
Juliet's POV [This is after Mark cut off from their phone conversation]
Well, of all the nerves, the stupid fellow actually cut me off! I'll be darned.
Nope, can't do it. Some people are born finding faults with others, why am I born with the direct opposite? Was it something I said? Let's see now, I asked him if I could borrow the videotape he made of MY wedding because I, being hopeless at gadgets and stuffs, managed to turn my whole wedding video blue. I didn't say anything tactless, I should know, I'm English. We created tactless comments. In fact, come to think of it, we created the bloody language!
All right, going way out of point. I'm really doing my best with the Mark situation, I am. I reckon I've been going all the way to make him like me, for the sake of Peter, mind you, but that bloke sure is hard to please. I really don't know what I did wrong. He seemed fairly decent when we first met, but after Peter formally introduced us, he got all stuffy and uptight.
I'm pissed, I really am. I'm really a nice person, I think. What is it about me that ticks him off? You know what? I don't give shit no more. I'm going right to his place first thing tomorrow morning and get this whole tension business cleared up. That's right Juliet, you go girl!
+++
All right, all right. What do I do? What do I do?
Ring the bell, you doofus.
Right, right, the bell. Oh great Juliet, you've gone off the deep end. Talking to yourself now, haven't you? It's just Mark. What can he do to you? All right, ring the bell.
"Banoffee pie?" I blurted out. Of course, now he's going to think of you as a moron on top of an arse. I opened my eyes wide, going for wide-eyed innocence.
"No, thanks."
"Thank God. It would have broken my heart if you'd said yes." Good grief, Jules, what's the matter with you. Invite yourself in. Go on now, do it!
"Can I come in?" That's right babe, you're doing fine.
"Ah-yeah-I'm a bit busy but . . ." Maybe not doing so fine after all, Jules. Oh who gives a damn. I'm walking in right now.
"I was just passing and thought we might check that video thing out." Here comes the babbling. I hate being a babbler. Mark's giving me an excuse; one of his many. Really, that man cannot lie for nuts.
"Mark. . . I know we've never gotten . . . friendly. But I just wanted to say - I hope it can't change. I'm nice - I really am. Apart from my terrible taste in pie. It would be good if we could be friends." All right Jules. Shut up. Shut up now.
"Absolutely. Absolutely." Could he say those words with an even colder attitude? I'm hurt, I really am. Here I am, working my arse off trying to make him like me, and he's not even responding warmly. I don't expect big hugs but come on, will a smile kill? This just totally sums up how much he hates me.
"Doesn't me we'll be able to find the video though. I had a real search . . ." That man must seriously think I'm stupid.
"Well, there's one here that says 'Peter and Juliet's Wedding', do you think we might be on the right track?" I push the tape in the telly. I'm amused at his stuttering reply. As the tape began to roll, I feel a jolt of surprise. It was lovely, and I decided to tell him that.
"That's gorgeous. Thank you Mark. You know . . . I actually look quite pretty." Can I be more egoistic? Mark's not answering. Oh great, now he think I AM egoistic. I just never get anything right, do I? Oh, bother about that later, it's my wedding video! One that's not blue!
The video shows scenes and scenes of me, smiling, laughing, talking. Just me. . .
Just me.
No, it can't be. It's impossible. The man hates me!
"They're all of me."
"Yeah. . ."
"But you don't like me." Good job Juliet, now you sound whiny.
I watch Mark head towards the door. He turns suddenly, and gives me a bittersweet smile. "It's a self-preservation thing, you see." He leaves.
I am shock. This is the kind of situation that only happens in the movies. Oh bloody hell, what am I supposed to do now? I can almost hear the sad music in the background. One of Dido's songs maybe. I take another look at the tape. It's Mark's, and I'll leave this way. After all, that's all he has.
+++
OK. This whole writing in POVs is not good because I have to keep minding my tenses and all. So, for the next chapters, it'll be in the third person. Anyway, review!
Disclaimer: Richard Curtis thought the stories and characters. I'm just . . . borrowing them.
Juliet's POV [This is after Mark cut off from their phone conversation]
Well, of all the nerves, the stupid fellow actually cut me off! I'll be darned.
Nope, can't do it. Some people are born finding faults with others, why am I born with the direct opposite? Was it something I said? Let's see now, I asked him if I could borrow the videotape he made of MY wedding because I, being hopeless at gadgets and stuffs, managed to turn my whole wedding video blue. I didn't say anything tactless, I should know, I'm English. We created tactless comments. In fact, come to think of it, we created the bloody language!
All right, going way out of point. I'm really doing my best with the Mark situation, I am. I reckon I've been going all the way to make him like me, for the sake of Peter, mind you, but that bloke sure is hard to please. I really don't know what I did wrong. He seemed fairly decent when we first met, but after Peter formally introduced us, he got all stuffy and uptight.
I'm pissed, I really am. I'm really a nice person, I think. What is it about me that ticks him off? You know what? I don't give shit no more. I'm going right to his place first thing tomorrow morning and get this whole tension business cleared up. That's right Juliet, you go girl!
+++
All right, all right. What do I do? What do I do?
Ring the bell, you doofus.
Right, right, the bell. Oh great Juliet, you've gone off the deep end. Talking to yourself now, haven't you? It's just Mark. What can he do to you? All right, ring the bell.
"Banoffee pie?" I blurted out. Of course, now he's going to think of you as a moron on top of an arse. I opened my eyes wide, going for wide-eyed innocence.
"No, thanks."
"Thank God. It would have broken my heart if you'd said yes." Good grief, Jules, what's the matter with you. Invite yourself in. Go on now, do it!
"Can I come in?" That's right babe, you're doing fine.
"Ah-yeah-I'm a bit busy but . . ." Maybe not doing so fine after all, Jules. Oh who gives a damn. I'm walking in right now.
"I was just passing and thought we might check that video thing out." Here comes the babbling. I hate being a babbler. Mark's giving me an excuse; one of his many. Really, that man cannot lie for nuts.
"Mark. . . I know we've never gotten . . . friendly. But I just wanted to say - I hope it can't change. I'm nice - I really am. Apart from my terrible taste in pie. It would be good if we could be friends." All right Jules. Shut up. Shut up now.
"Absolutely. Absolutely." Could he say those words with an even colder attitude? I'm hurt, I really am. Here I am, working my arse off trying to make him like me, and he's not even responding warmly. I don't expect big hugs but come on, will a smile kill? This just totally sums up how much he hates me.
"Doesn't me we'll be able to find the video though. I had a real search . . ." That man must seriously think I'm stupid.
"Well, there's one here that says 'Peter and Juliet's Wedding', do you think we might be on the right track?" I push the tape in the telly. I'm amused at his stuttering reply. As the tape began to roll, I feel a jolt of surprise. It was lovely, and I decided to tell him that.
"That's gorgeous. Thank you Mark. You know . . . I actually look quite pretty." Can I be more egoistic? Mark's not answering. Oh great, now he think I AM egoistic. I just never get anything right, do I? Oh, bother about that later, it's my wedding video! One that's not blue!
The video shows scenes and scenes of me, smiling, laughing, talking. Just me. . .
Just me.
No, it can't be. It's impossible. The man hates me!
"They're all of me."
"Yeah. . ."
"But you don't like me." Good job Juliet, now you sound whiny.
I watch Mark head towards the door. He turns suddenly, and gives me a bittersweet smile. "It's a self-preservation thing, you see." He leaves.
I am shock. This is the kind of situation that only happens in the movies. Oh bloody hell, what am I supposed to do now? I can almost hear the sad music in the background. One of Dido's songs maybe. I take another look at the tape. It's Mark's, and I'll leave this way. After all, that's all he has.
+++
OK. This whole writing in POVs is not good because I have to keep minding my tenses and all. So, for the next chapters, it'll be in the third person. Anyway, review!