The Inevitable Fanfiction

Chapter 1 – In Honour of Ever After

Is this a compliment or a bloody insult? Is it flattering that she picked someone of my own country? Ok, so he’s born in Scotland, but still – he lives and works in England. Or is it downright an insult that she picked another Brit over me? And they’re getting married. She told me after two marriages, she was not going to go through that again. I thought that was certain. I think she thought so too. So what is so special about this guy? How did he make her change her ways and accept when he fell on one knee with a ring in hand.
Did old-fashioned fairy-tales still make her weak in the knees? Isn’t she a little old for that? Going on forty-eight, you’d think she would be. And to imagine, she wasn’t even the one to tell me all this. Ryan had to tell me. I realise I am now massaging my throbbing temples as I sit in my office chair and stare blankly at the papers in front of me. Woman makes me crazy, I tell you. She’s always had that affect on me. If I know how to get under her skin, which I do, she can do the same for me at any given time.
A loud beeping noise startles me and I jump in my seat.
“Sir?” Comes Lisa’s voice across the intercom. I grin sheepishly at the phone, fingers still pressing against my pounding head.
“Yes, Lisa?”
“Terri is on the line for you,” She tells me.
“Alright, thanks,” I pick up the phone and press the button so I receive the incoming call. “Hi, Terri,” I greet.
“Did you hear the good news?” Terri asks. She has her reporter voice on and I am cautious of it.
“What news, darling?” I play dumb.
“Paw-ler’s getting married, o’course!” She sounds so excited. What is it with women and marriage? Honestly. It’s a blimmin’ ring on your finger that you can never take off and a piece of paper that says you are now bonded till death, or divorce. Whichever.
“Ah yeah, that’s right. I’ve yet to congratulate her,” I could almost laugh at myself. And people say I can’t act – Hah.
“You sound awfully morose. I know you’re not a believer in the whole marriage thing, but you could at least be happy for her,” She lectures.
“I’m happy! I’m happy,” I mumble the second time, almost bitterly. “I just hope she knows what she’s getting herself into. I mean it didn’t work out for her before.”
“Oh, Simon. The eternal pessimist. You’ll never change will you?” She asks.
“I prefer the term ‘realist’,” She laughs.
“Can’t teach an old dog new trick, as they say,”
“Wow, Terri. I didn’t know humour came with old age,” I quip.
“You would know,” Despite my headache, I can’t help but laugh. I enjoy the banter.
“Want to join me for lunch?”I change the subject.
“Sure. The usual place?”
“Yeah.”
So I leave for lunch with Terri and as always, we’ll have a good time. It’s easy with her – even after we broke up. We’ve always managed to remain friends, because in a way, that’s all we were even for years when we considered ourselves ‘together’.

***
Usually, Paula and I talk on the phone often. Every few days we have a long conversation. When she has something big to tell me, I will listen and be happy that she is happy. When I need to hear her voice, which I’ll admit, has become strangely frequent, I will ask her to talk about her day or any senseless rubbish. The recurring migraines I get are at ease for a while. It’s an even game. However, it has been a week, and she hasn’t called even once. At first I had called her, a little worried. But then I heard the news. I can’t help but wonder if she’s just busy with everything or avoiding me. I know she tells me not everything revolves around me when I say something in my typical humour, and whereas most cases I know it’s true, I also know I mean a lot to her – and I can’t help but wonder why she would not make some time to call me. Or at least to tell me everything is alright. Since the last episode of Idol, last week, my migraines have been almost non-stop. I can only imagine why.
At Idol, I see Paula talking with some of the contestants and hugging a few of the younger ones. A few of the girls are playing with her hand, turning it in every direction and then I see it. The sparkling diamond, shining in the light, at least three karats, with a silver – maybe white gold- band to go. Paula laughs and looks away, embarrassed but flattered. Like a little school girl being told by her friends that a boy in their class fancied her. She then sees me and I realise I must look like an idiot, standing in the middle of the corridor, staring ahead motionless at a beautiful woman. A beautiful engaged woman. I scoff to myself, the word sounding disgusting even in my head.
As she looks at me, her wide smile fades and then arises once more, a little smaller and hesitant this time. I want to forget the way she ignored me, I want to just take her in my arms and kiss her. I want to snatch her hand and pull the ring off and crush the expensive diamond. I want to do a lot of things. But I let my wounded ego get the better of me and I walk right passed her and head to Ryan’s dressing room. I can feel her eyes burning into my back, as well as the questioning faces of the contestants.
“So it’s true then,” I say and plop on the couch in Ryan’s room.
He is applying buckets full of gel in his hair, tongue between his teeth as he arranges each lock of his hair in place.
“What is?” He asks, still looking in the vanity.
“She’s getting married!” I throw my hands up, as if in surrender. Why surrender? I don’t know.
“Yeah she is. You lost your chance, old man.” My heads snaps up at him and he is grinning in the mirror, cheekily.
“What do you mean ‘lost my chance’?” I demand. I haven’t lost anything. Not a blimmin’ thing.
“What are you, slow in the head or something? I mean your precious Paula, the one that your whole world revolves around is getting engaged to that British boyfriend of hers and you can’t stand it.”
“She’s my friend. She and I will be friends whether or not she is married,” As the words leave my lips, I can’t help but wonder if they are for assuring Ryan or myself.
He finally turns, after looking himself up and down in the full length mirror and sits beside me.
“Is that enough for you?” He asks, one eyebrow raised, and if this conversation was about anything else, I would have laughed out loud at his serious expression.
“Yes, Doctor Phil , it is just fine, thank-you.”
“Doesn’t it upset you that she’s the one woman you can’t have? The one woman who doesn’t fall on her knees begging for your attention?”
“I’ve already had her, in case you’ve forgotten. More than once.”
“Yeaahh, and then you lost her. More than once.”
“]I was the one who left, Seacrest.” I roll my eyes and massage my head as the migraine comes back.
“Doesn’t mean it didn’t break your poor little heart,” He says defiantly.
“Right that’s it,” I stand up. “I don’t know why I bother talking to you,” I walk to the door and open it.
“Simon, buddy, come on. It’s just – I know you have feelings for her, man. And you need to know it too,” I turn back and look him dead in the eyes. “Cowell, it’s obvious you love her,” I could almost feel smoke puffing out of my ears and nostrils, like one of those cartoon characters.
This time I turn around and I leave.
When I return to the hallway, Paula and the contestants aren’t there anymore. Now it is mostly empty with the exception of a few stage-hands and there’s Debra. She smiles at me and continues along.
“Two minutes!” Someone calls. So I start walking to the stage. We are still doing that walk on stage introduction, this season. Of course when the shows get too rushed again, we’ll have to skip it.
Kara is already there and she smiles almost smugly at me. I kiss her cheek and greet her.
“Soo?” She asks like she expects me to know what she’s on about.
“So what?”
“You know about Paula right?”
“Of course I know! Jesus, is it like the only topic of discussion or something? Surely there are other things to talk about.”
“Figures. I knew you’d be upset,” She smirks yet again and its times like these I wonder, not just why we hired her, but why we’ve kept her on the panel for yet another season.
“Of course, darling. Because you know me so well don’t you?” Attack is the best form of defense, after all. I roll my eyes and she opens her mouth to say something, but we are interrupted. I am extremely glad for little mercies.
“Hey, dawgs,” I hear Randy’s voice as he claps me on the back. He kisses Kara and I see her attention diverted to the back of me.
“Hi,” Paula says quietly. She gives Kara’s hand a little squeeze and Randy hugs her tight. Her eyes avoid me until these two tasks are over. When her eyes meet mine, that stupid urge I have to kiss her is back yet again and I resist it narrowly.
“Hi, Paw-la,” I say, evenly as I can. My voice sounds strange even to my own ears.
“Hey,” She says and takes me hand in hers. Her fingers lace with mine. She is watching my reaction and I don’t get why. That is until I feel it; the cool strip of metal against my fingers. I look down and there it is – that huge diamond with smaller jewels that I failed to notice before. Small rubies frame the diamond and go half way around the band of the ring. When I meet her eyes again she leans up quickly and kisses my lips, like she was silencing my unspoken words. My eyes close for that millisecond. I embrace that this is all we’ll have from now on. I can do that – Sinitta is married too. Maybe when Paula has pretty babies, I can be their godfather as well.
Wonderful, isn’t it? I can even drive myself crazy with my sarcastic remarks. The next thing we hear is Ryan’s ‘host voice’ booming in front of the screen.
We enter the stage as the screen opens in half. I like the feeling. Kara and Randy off to one side, Ryan there too, me and Paula holding hands facing the audience. It’s almost like it is she and I against the world. A stupid thought – one for children who believe in fairytales, I suppose. But even I am allowed to dream once in a while.