THE AFTERMATH OF iCARLY
Freddie: failing several times
Not again!
Surely this was a test of SOME kind. (I have to give InvaderJohnny credit for that idea. Thanks!)
He pushed her away quickly, despite how long they'd been going for. It wasn't right to be kissing another girl. Not when Sam's face kept popping up in his mind. The girl in front of him looked at him like he'd grown an extra head in the last five or so minutes.
What was happening here? He shook his head and stood up, ready to apologise... yet again. Fail.
Angela shook her head and started to tear up slowly, ready to reject his apology this time and throw him out.
"You idiot," she whispers. "I think you need to leave."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen."
Wrong words to say at this present point of time, Freddie. Fail two.
"Just leave."
"But-"
"Go!"
Freddie scrambled to his feet and exited out the same door he came in through moments earlier. He felt a buzz in his pocket and assumed that it was a text message. He didn't bother to look at it though. He was scared to look. In case it was Sam, asking where he is right now.
Why would THAT scare him? It's not like they're an "item"... yet. All he did was propose - by accident.
"You are SO stupid, you IDIOT!" Freddie yells, and kicks a trash can. "Why can't you just stick to Angela? It'd be so much EASIER."
Fail three.
Because easy isn't what you're after. A small voice inside his head pipes up. And he knows that its right.
He didn't want an "easy" life. He wanted chaos, destruction, complication and confusion. He wanted Sam. God knows why, he thought. She's a nightmare! Sam's a living, breathing, eating nightmare and she's never going to go away.
"WHHHYYYY!" Freddie howls, like he's some kind of were-wolf.
Freddie stops howling and walks back to where the Bushwell Plaza is, to where his home is. He doesn't get side-tracked, but his mind wanders away from him. Perhaps it's because it's about twelve o'clock in the morning, and he's ridiculously on the streets of Seattle.
Double date? What was he THINKING? That's just it, he thought. He wasn't thinking. Besides, Angela must have forgotten that she was leaving tomorrow. TOMORROW! GAHHHHH! He WAS an idiot. And he'd gone along with her nice little plan anyway. Idiot, idiot, idiot!
Fail four.
He's losing two important girls in his life. He has no one to blame but himself. What was he going to do? What was there that he could do?
One was going to New York. The other was sure to stick around here and make his life miserable, especially after she finds out the truth about his motives behind the proposal - that it was a mistake. He was dead meat, or as good as. He hated feeling so damn sorry for himself. He pushed the heavy glass door and entered the clean-looking lobby.
"Well," slurs a voice from behind the counter. "If it isn't little Fredwardo Scissor-pants." He hiccoughed.
Freddie stands there both amused and creeped out entirely, as the crazy door-man stumbles toward him. Was he drunk or what? The stench of his breath confirmed an affirmative on that answer. Freddie held his nose and tried to dodge him.
Too late. Fail five.
Lewbert had his arms around the boy, who was frantically trying to escape. But there was no escape. Lewbert was laughing and crying at the same time, talking about his true love who hated him and his ugly wart.
"You know, she didn't even send me a... a... birthday card? Who does tha-at? WHO DOES THAT!"
Freddie winces and hears the ringing inside his ears from Lewbert's drunken yelling directly into it. He tries to scramble away, but again, the door-man grips onto his arm and doesn't let him go so easily.
"Lewbert, I think you need a nap." Freddie says, prying the drunken man off of him roughly.
"A nap? Oh... Susie liked naps!" Lewbert wails and finally drops onto the floor. "Where are you going! I need lotion for my wart!"
The boy seizes the moment and darts directly up the staircase and doesn't stop to look back until he unlocks his apartment door, closes it and catches his breath.
Lewbert is scary enough sober, let alone intoxicated out of his brain, thought Freddie.
He wondered where Sam was and if she was okay. Perhaps she was still with Brad at the wedding. Perhaps they had found somewhere quiet to go and have a private talk and perhaps a kiss...
No! That didn't happen. Just because YOU had to go and be unfaithful to the girl you love, Benson, doesn't mean Puckett had the same idea... well it wasn't even an idea. It felt "right" and I went for it, he thinks to himself. It was crazy! Sam wouldn't do anything to hurt you, not intentionally...
... or ...
Stop thinking like a crazy person, idiot. She's back at home, asleep in her bed, dreaming of me, he thought. I'll see her tomorrow.
Tomorrow! Chiz! That's when Angela is leaving! Fail six.
Angela isn't yours. She never will be, because you love Sam. You're IN LOVE with the blonde headed demon, no matter who else comes into your life. Angela was right. You belong together. Maybe it's not perfect. Maybe it's not practical in the very least. Maybe she's a little crazier than one would imagine. But nothing else matters.
That revelation just now was like a slap in the face. And it stung like mad.
"I wish I could just take it all back," he says, into the darkness. "I wish I didn't kiss Angela. And I wish I plucked up some courage and asked Sam out before proposing. I wish that Sam wasn't mad at me and things were back the way they were. Heck! I wish Carly was back home! She'd sort things out in a heart-beat!"
Carly would be just the person to solve every single problem that was eating him up inside out. The thing with Angela. The thing with Sam. The thing with his "commitment phobia" - or whatever it was meant to be. She would swoop in and save the day.
Just like old times.
If this was a test, he failed miserably. He caved. He CAVED! If this wasn't a test, it was just cruel and unusual punishment - maybe he was a mass-murderer in a past-life? Yeah, that had to be it. Because this was absolute torture!
"Okay, sit down and think it through properly." Freddie tells himself.
The characters in this story have been talking to themselves a lot. Maybe they ARE crazy! Beside the point. The boy sits down on the couch, still with no light on. Just sitting there in the dark, mulling things over.
"You love Sam. You asked her out on a date."
The date! Oh chiz! No, he hadn't forgotten... it was just that he... well... didn't exactly remember asking Sam out on a date. Tends to happen when you go and kiss some other girl who means nothing to you.
But Angela didn't EXACTLY mean nothing to him, he thought.
No! No, Benson. Bad. Stop thinking like that. It's what got you in this complicated mess to start with. You moron! I'm an idiot. A jerk. A... a...
Don't say it...
A scuzzbag.
I told you not to say it!
But I did. You can't take it back. Even if you are the author writing this story. I'm not taking it back, because it's the truth, you know it is. Sam will NEVER forgive me.
Double fail here for you, Freddie, which makes it fail six and fail seven.
Hey! Who's writing this thing? Me! I'm writing it! So, quit your wallowing in depression or whatever, get off your lazy butt and go find her!
Who?
THE OLD LADY IN APARTMENT 23C... who do you think?
Oh.
Freddie shook his head, and decided to take my advice. Yay! It was bad enough the voices in his head were arguing with him, but he didn't need an author on his back too. Good on ya Benson. Despite screwing everything up already.
At least he was going to fix it, or TRY to fix it.
That's when he remembered the buzz in his pocket like over an hour ago. The message! Gah! What if it was Sam?
Fail number seven. You're doing great.
He fumbled inside his pocket and pulled out the pear-phone, then tapped the code in to unlock it and scanned the screen. It wasn't Sam's number. It was an unknown number. It wasn't even within Seattle.
In fact, it was an INTERNATIONAL phone number. Don't ask how he knew what the code for "international phone numbers" was... he was, after all, pretty smart (when it came to everything EXCEPT girls). So he worked it out, kudos to him. There was a voicemail message left, which explained the buzzing sensation from before.
He clicked dial and pressed the phone to his ear, awaiting the message anxiously. Not really knowing why he was so anxious.
"Hey Freddie," it was Carly's voice. She sounded a little less "peppy" than usual. "It's Carly here. I was hoping to speak to you in person. But oh well. I'll just leave a message. I'm coming home tomorrow. I miss Spencer, and I miss you and Sam... heck, I even miss Gibby!" Here she laughs, but it's bitter. "Can you pick me up from the airport at around twelve pm? I'd ask Spencer, but I can't get through to him. Thanks Freddie. Oh and one more thing..." There was a rustling as the line weakened and finally went dead.
Freddie clicked the 'hang-up' button and threw the phone down beside him. What was the "one more thing"? Carly just left him hanging. Hey, not much different to the good old days, really.
Those days were long gone, though.