Procrastinators on Stage (Chris Kendall/crabstickz fanfic) *unedited*

Part 10- I Don't Like Mornings

Sunday 7th September 2014

21:01pm- in new flat with Charles

I hate pre-audition jitters. Cathy and I are going to my musical theatre audition tomorrow. I don’t want to go, but then I undoubtedly do want to go as well. It’s like a tug of war in my mind between my confidence and fear. Cathy and a new friend of mine ‘Lily’, have both encouraged my singing voice considerably. Lily wants to practice lines with me, and she even said that she’d cast me as the lead part of the production if she could.

On the other hand, there’s Charles to talk about. With him, I don’t know where to start…

I’ll paint a mental picture of him for you: tall, a thick dark side fringe of hair, dark eyes and dark eyebrows. He’s not necessarily bad looking, but I’d pick Augustus Walters over him any day. Personality wise, try combining the bitterness and name calling of Draco, with the sarcasm of (book) Harry- a Drarry lovechild, if you will ;). Aside from looks, that’s exactly who he resembles.

Charles wasn’t exactly welcoming to me. He called me names, blabbed about me negatively to his friends, and forced me into a social situation for 48 hours that made me want to forcibly shove onions at my eyes. Repeatedly.

But now, we’re watching ‘Scott Pilgrim VS. The World’ together after having a shredded roast pepper salad with sesame seed noodles to eat. I salute with my fork to whoever invented this combination. It actually took a yelling match between Lily and Charles to make this happen, but it is admittedly a little easier.

If there’s anything that I’ve learnt from my time in London, it’s that there are a lot of jerks here. I might just be being as superstitious as ever, as you guys know me to be, but these people are very difficult to trust. Some of them can apparently fault me on my attempts as well. That’s what’s new in the ‘why I hate people’ section of my life, anyway.

I’m signing off, Buds.

                -Thorn x

*

“Awww, they look so sweet together!”

“Should we take a photo?”

“Oh, don’t be mean, Mathew. Would you like it if we took a picture of you and Erin whilst you slept?”

“We’re married! Why should that matter?”

“Not all of us can be married, you know. Take it easy.”

“From the way that artist guy is doting on you, I don’t know why you two aren’t eloping or something yet!”

“…shut up, Mathew.”

“Guys, could you both shut it? We need to wake Jamie and Chris up!”

“Just one picture?”

“No.”

“Jamie? Jamie, you have to get ready for your audition. Preferably now.”

Even though I’d been feigning sleep ever since I’d heard three people walk into the apartment, I now knew that I had to get up indefinitely.

I opened my eyes to see my legs knotted with someone else’s on the sofa. Their socks were a navy blue patterned with little white stars, and those socks led up to a set of skinny jeans which wound around Chris’ legs. Chris had his mouth hanging open, with a little puddle of drool trailing at the corner of his mouth and collecting on the embroided cushion he was resting his messy head on. His glasses were partially unfolded on the floor, where I presumed they’d fallen off during the night. He did look oddly sweet, and the thought of that worried me.