Now, how am I supposed to end this chapter? Diane stared at the half-filled page in front of her, her pen at a standstill. She'd written for days on end, her hand aching as toll for her consistency, and for the first time, her brain had gone blank. She had left room for improvisation rather than having things meticulously planned out, and that decision was backfiring on her.
Again, Diane had made a stupid decision and was facing the consequences. She was deeply insecure about her flaws, and only in moments where she sat with herself was she forced to face it. Feelings of being a failure, a fraud, crashed in on her, and she sank back in her chair. Years of education, and yet she still couldn't do basics.
What was she meant to do with her life? Rot as a secretary, a waitress? Write a brilliant on the side in hopes of getting published, only to be destroyed by weak execution? Marry Sam and forget her aspirations?
There it was. The name she had been avoiding for months. Her writing had made her ignorant to her feelings and quite avoidant of thinking of Sam. She'd gone through so many emotions in her first week post-Malone, which had aided her in her planning, but as she began to actually write, she became so immersed in the story that all those feelings seemed to subside. Her character's emotions took over, filling every nook and cranny in her brain where thoughts of Sam once lingered. But now, thoughts of Sam were all that remained. No more story, no more fiction, just the plain old feeling of emptiness… and regret.
Her cabin in Maine was remote, but not completely cut off from the rest of the world. A phone was in the kitchen, and she received calls from her mother and Boggs, just checking in, every few days or so. Sumner had called to see how it was going a few days before, and she'd very quickly wished she'd never picked up the phone at all. But nothing from Sam. Not yet. Perhaps he really did believe what he'd said— that that was their last goodbye. Diane couldn't bear the thought, yet it was what dominated her mind in this period of feeling uninspired.
Sam believed he'd never see her again because of her decision to chase success. As if she'd let that be true.
She rose from her seat, walked past the phone (all too aware of its silence) and into the tiny living room, quickly collapsing onto the couch. A small TV sat across the room and she turned it on. Best to take her mind off things for a few minutes, she figured. Maybe the TV would pick up Boston stations so that she could catch up on the local news.
Sure enough— the TV flickered on. Some ridiculous sports show Diane would normally overlook completely. Yet, though she tried, the TV wouldn't change channels. Maybe this was some cruel payback for all those days in Cheers where she'd try to culture Sam with opera or ballet. Irritated, Diane moved to turn it off, but a familiar face in her peripheral caused her eyes to dart right back up.
Speak of the devil.
Sam Malone, dressed in red, as dashing as ever. She almost did a double take. But there he was, in the light of the TV screen, on a talk show. The least likely place she'd expect him to be in this day and age.
(Yet… it made sense, didn't it? Sam Malone, seeking attention, still trying to live up to his brother by using the media as a crutch. It didn't take long for her feelings of excitement to swarm into criticisms, a sort of mental way of coping with the distress she felt at her core).
It must've been the work of that Dave fellow, she concluded– the scum who had tried to break her and Sam up (to some admittedly regretful success). Her mind was in shambles as Sam discussed the status of the Red Sox, details which she chose not to comprehend.
That was, at least, until Sam began to do the unspeakable. He rapped.
Poorly.
The secondhand embarrassment was enough to make Diane want to turn off the television, but as soon as the laughter came, it would not stop. All thoughts of her sadness, all thoughts of her emptiness went away. All she could think about was Sam Malone, and how much of a fool he appeared for all of Boston to see! Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined such an outlandish act from Sam, and the irony of it made her giggle like a schoolgirl.
The moment passed, Sam's "groin injury" line echoing in her head after and bringing her to tears. What an idiot! And then she thought about how much she would like to march into Cheers with a straight face, tease the living hell out of Sam, and declare she would never be seen in public with him again (followed by an obligatory fight, where she would play hard to get before the two inevitably made up). Her heart sank into her chest.
Would Sumner kill her if she were to take a weekend trip down to Boston? The idea was far too tempting. Perhaps returning would provide her with that inspiration she was lacking. Maybe she'd been gone too long from the Cheers period of her life, stuck in a rut but in ways, happier than she'd ever been.
Without much further thought, Diane decided she would be on the first train in the morning.
You'd better be there, Malone.
A/N: hi! hope you enjoyed this.
i'll probably write another chapter or two for this, but i'm not expecting it to be long or anything.
this just spawned from the idea of, "oh, i really want to see diane laugh at sam rapping" and expanded from there once i realized i'd never wrote from diane's perspective before. i also wanted to kind of explore what could've happened to her once she disappeared in the woods to write her novel, so there's that. she's absent for six years of cheers, and i can't envision her never returning to boston.
as i am a young writer, any constructive criticism or feedback is always appreciated! i'm always looking to improve. i know pacing is usually a big issue for me, personally, so if anyone has any tips please hmu.
'til we meet again! (or more fittingly, 'til i get the energy to write again!)
