Serendipity (Book 2)

Through The Lens by pomegranate-stars

FanFiction.net

Through the Lens by pomegranate-stars

TV » iCarly
Rated: K+
Language: English
Genre: Angst & Romance
Characters: [Freddie B., Sam P.]
Words: 945
Published: Nov 26, 2009

***

I get asked sometimes if I care. Do you care that Carly and Sam are out there in front of the camera and get all the attention? My answer to these people is always the same... No. I really and truly don't care that they're out there in front of the camera. I wouldn't be very good at the spontaneous brand of comedy that makes iCarly so popular, anyway. That's what I tell people, and that's the truth. But the bigger reason that I don't care about running the camera is one that I never tell people, one that I keep closely guarded. It gives me a chance to observe them, observe her. Sam Puckett is someone you can't help but watch. The only problem with watching Sam is how discreet you have to be... If she catches you staring, you'll probably end up being subjected to some sort of torture. That's why I watch her through the lens of my camera, when it's natural to be staring at her.

Why do I watch her, you ask? ... I'll admit, it took me a while to figure it out myself, but once I did, it became glaringly obvious, like that answer to a math problem you want to smack yourself for forgetting. I'm in love with Sam. What? Oh, you thought I was in love with Carly. Yeah, that is what you'd think, isn't it? The truth is, I haven't liked Carly in a long time. I always thought that the way I felt when I was around her - the churning in my stomach, the way my palms get clammy, the way my brain seems unable to form a coherent thought... all that was Carly's doing. Boy, was I ever wrong.

I'm not quite sure when it stopped being Carly and started being Sam. I mean, is anyone ever sure when they fall for someone? All I know for sure is that no one can ever know. This is one secret that I'm going to guard closer than my mom guards her fish loaf recipe. There are times, certainly, that I've thought that Sam liked me back. She kissed me, for the love of Pete... twice. If that really was Sam and not 'Melanie'. Doesn't kissing typically mean like? But then she goes and does things like putting dead fish in my locker... I've heard the old saying... "If she makes fun of you, she probably just likes you..." Yadda yadda yadda. That's just a bunch of bologna that adults make up to make you feel better. In reality, she probably really does hate me just as much as she says. But what can I do? It's not like I can call her up and ask her out. This is Sam Puckett... She'd just as soon gouge her eyes out with a spoon than go out with me.

The only place I can watch her is through the lens, during iCarly. I can't at school... People would notice, and Sam would find out. That can never happen. The only thing I can do is go along with my life and deal with it... Just deal with the fact that I can't even look at the girl without having to work to keep words in my head, can't even be in the same room without being hyper-aware of everything she's doing. I constantly have to be aware of my facial expressions, and it's getting harder and harder to come up with nasty things to call her when all I really want to do is say those three over-used words that have been on my lips for what seems like years...

This is ridiculous. I guess this is what people mean when they talk about love... I never believed them before. The romantic movies Carly likes so much, the sappy poems and stories from English class, where the lovers are star-crossed and obsessed with each other... they never seemed real to me. In fact, they seemed rather inflated and annoying. Who really felt like that anymore? Let's just say, I get where these guys were coming from now.

No matter what I do, no matter how much I try to think it through, the answer still comes out the same. I'm stuck. If I move forward, I'll get my heart broken (and probably a few bones as well). If I step back, I'm more likely to just whither away, and I know I'll always regret not taking a chance. Either way, I end up in trouble, trapped in this state of perpetual flirtation, this to-and-fro of desire and my ever-failing ability to curb my own passions. One of these days... One of these days I know I will have to take a chance, will have to leap over the edge and into that bottomless chasm, will have to fall and shatter when she doesn't catch me. But for now... At this moment, I guess all that I can do is step back, take a breath, and be content simply to watch her behind my mask and through my lens.

"In 5, 4, 3, 2-!"

... At least for now.

***
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