Just another Robsten Fanfic…

So, This is just a little part of what I’ve been working on. My Robsten  fanfic starts back before they both got the jobs. So we know a little about their lives and the ppl that they are. And, to show how, finding each other was the best thing ever. Anyway I started with a 21 yr old Rob in London b4 he got the call. I didnt mean to make him sound depressed or anything, he is just supposed to be at the end of filming how to be and in a kind of a funk.Im working on more now I havent gotten to kristens story yet b/c im afraid to make her sound to angry we know her and love her as the kris she is now. So, going back b4 the crazy fame and everything If I ever get it done will be interesting

Just another Robsten Fanfic  written by CarlieStuartson

Chapter 1:

 

Sitting on the ratty old sofa, aloof I guess, among the very loud drunken partiers. I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard the voice that could only belong to one of my friends

“Come on patty what’s wrong with you? You’ve been zoning around here all night like you’re asleep” He swung over the back of the couch plopping down next to me “It’s a party! you should be enjoying yourself! look you haven’t even opened your beer, it’s still full” he said tapping my can than mussing my hair like a little puppy dog or something. I’d been so out of it, you would have thought he poured the beer on my head. He shook up my shoulders, as if to wake me up.I waved him away  ”Nothing man nothing just chilling whatever ya know” I said. I took a swing off my can to get him to calm down. I hated when he worried about me so much…we’d been best mates forever but I still didn’t like him thinking of me as the one, he needed to look after. I really was trying to enjoy my self but my mind was elsewhere.

 

I swore that when I finished this job I wouldn’t act anymore. I’m so over the pretty boy roles. I want to do something meaningful, something real. I’ve always felt most honest when I’m playing my music. I’m crap at it but I need it for my sanity. Some way to be free, just escape my realities- well more of a way to really connect to what I’m feeling. For about four years now I’ve just been like a zombie in my own life, I love my friends but we haven’t done anything.  I thought I might just live as a bum. Just me and my guitar and really experience life and write down all the things that I would learn. Come back from where ever I was camping out at, record them all and become a huge star. No, I’ve never been interested in being famous much but I can’t help but think about all that money.

 

I scanned the room and thought no one would miss me, I’d step outside for a smoke. Leaned up against a wall in a back alley of the bar I lit a cigarette and watched the smoke fade away. Suddenly I found myself thinking about a book I had read a while back in school. Where a man had smoked while walking down a lonely road thinking about life, happiness and stuff. I tried to imagine the smoke as my life slipping away from me like the man had in the story. I shook my head and took a drag. I always hated when random shit like that came back to me and fucked me up. I wanted to not understand why I had thought of the man and that story but I know exactly why, all too well. Was I happy?  Yes, no, yes, no, I don’t know. I wasn’t doing what I wanted to, I don’t think but I don’t hate life like the man had, do I?

 

Anyway I’d been offered another acting gig all the way in America and I didn’t know if I wanted it or not.I mean I’d read the script and what would I look like, me- just your random average guy showing up to an audition for the most good looking, good at everything man in the world. Me! I’m not even an actor. I don’t know how I’d gotten the jobs I already had. I took a final drag off my smoke, threw it down and stamped it out. I suddenly realized how cold it was. Probably due to the fact that all I had on was a t-shirt. At least my head was warm thanks to my favorite beanie. Well my only hat actually. It’d been a gift. I always hated thinking about the girl who had given it to me. Every time I put it on I considered throwing it out but why should I. I love this hat, and it’s my hat. I wrapped my arms around myself rubbing my upper arms for friction trying to get some heat. I thought I’d go back inside but I wasn’t in the mood to party at all anymore. I was sure they’d all have a much better time without me moping, bringing them down. I’d see them when they poured them selves drunken into bed sometime around three or four in the morning anyway.

Just another Robsten Fanfic… by CarlieStuartson

 posted by _Carlie