Here’s a fun little POV
fic from Laura:
A friend of mine came up with the idea that we (my friends
& I) should all pick a different character and write a fic from their POV
about what they were thinking when Max was in the van. Naturally, I felt I must claim Tess, lest
one of the unenlightened ones write some sickeningly sweet story about how sad
she was. This is the first time I have
written anything even remotely resembling fanfic, and I pretty much can't write
my way out of a paper bag, but it mocks Tess so much that I thought I'd share.
========
We’re standing in front of the coroner’s van watching as Max
walks away from us. God, he’s got a
great ass! I almost smile but catch
myself. “Must be sad. Must be sad,” I repeat over and over in my
head. It’s a good thing I’ve been
practicing facial expressions in the mirror in Kyle’s – I mean *my* room. After Nasedo died, people thought I’d be
devastated that my “Dad” had died. (Ha
Ha! “Dad”… oops! Must not smile, must
be sad.) But when I walked around with
my usual vacant stare, they just thought I was in shock or denial or –
“He’ll have to use his powers to open the lock…”
What the hell is Isabel blathering about? I can’t hear myself think when people are talking. Besides, we all *know* he has to use his powers. Why is she stating the total obvious like that? I’ll just try to ignore her like I usually do.
Max is opening the door and climbing in now. Ooh!
Another butt shot. He is so
sexy! The door swings shut and I wonder
what the body looks like. I wish I’d
had a chance to see it right after the accident. Now Max must be unzipping the bodybag and sticking his hand in
all that blood. He’s probably so
grossed out. Stupid, overly sensitive
huu-maan. What kind of king is he going
to make? Well, if I have things my –
Dammit! What the
hell is all that whimpering Maria is doing?!
That settles it – she’s the next to go.
Nicholas will be thrilled to kill that one.
The van door opens and Max walks out alone. Gee, *that’s* a surprise! He looks defeated. I’d better try the concerned expression. I look so cute in the concerned expression. There is some blathering about how he couldn’t save Al. I really want to tell him that that’s the way we planned it, but instead I search my memory banks for an appropriate response. Ah, here it is: What do we do now, Max? But before I can open my mouth the undertaker comes out and wheels away the body. Damn! I wanted to see if I could sneak a look at it. Well, there’s ten minutes of my life I’ll never get back.
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