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

Part 1- I Don't Like Traveling

Note: I'll try and make this story as realistic as I can regarding the theatrical side of it but I'll probably rewrite it later on to make it more so. I hope you like my story :)

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Friday 5th September 2014

17:38pm- in a taxi

I hate admitting to others that I have motion sickness, but you guys probably know that by now due to past incidents that I've recorded here. The bumper cars incident. The ferry across the Channel. The rollercoaster incident. It goes on to no end, as you all know. And now, seeing as how only my closest friends and a large portion of the internet know my weakness, I'm not about to tell my taxi driver that I may vomit over his worn upholstery. I don't think he'd appreciate the new décor for some reason. Hm. But I have eaten a ginger biscuit and my tablets, so I should be fine... hopefully.

'Why am I working through the queasy feeling in my stomach and traveling in a taxi?' you may ask. Well, I've got a flat in London! I've been telling you guys that I've wanted a place there for the past, what, year? (I feel old). And I finally have a place! Okay, I'm sharing a flat with a guy named Charles (you know the drill with fake names by know), and I've never actually met the guy. Yeah, I know; STRANGER DANGER, STRANGER DANGER! But my good friend Cathy knows him well and the rent isn't too bad because both of us are paying it together.

This is a big new feature in my little life, so I thought I share it with the million odd eyes of the internet... I make you guys sound like stalkers (sorry).

Anyway, I'll keep you all posted on what 'Charles' is like, but for now I'm signing off, Buds.

-Thorn x

*

After editing my writing, I saved my newest post to my blog from my phone. My work done, I dropped my phone into my lap and placed a quivering hand over my mouth. I hadn't been exaggerating to my 'Buds' about the motion sickness. Well, I suppose they're not my 'Buds'. It's just a nickname. I guess they're called that due to how my blog identity is 'Thorn', how my blog is 'A Thorn Amongst Roses', and that links to flowers and buds and- you get my point. Give me a break, I started the blog three years ago when I was more naïve and kept the stupid nickname. It's my identity.

My stomach was rolling, rocking from side to side as the taxi did so. It had been three hours since I'd had my ginger biscuit and tablets, so their effects were wearing off. I took a deep breath before sitting upright and rolling the window down a crack, sticking my long nose outside and taking large gulps of air. Hopefully the whole 'deep breathing and meditation' thing could help me attempt to force back the bile which brewed and tumbled inside me.

"Y'alright, kid?" my driver asked me, glancing back at me in his rear view mirror with watery grey eyes.

"Just fine," I said as confidently as I could. He frowned at me for a moment before he set his eyes back on the road in front of him. This driver seemed nice enough, so I definitely didn't want to be sick. Not that I wanted to anyway.

I tried to distract myself by twisting my ring around on my thumb and looking out my window to the bustling London streets. It was all grey, tones of grey, with clouded blues and fiery reds for the lighting on the buildings we passed. The buildings were so close together it was as if they were just one consistent chunk of concrete with small windows forty feet up. People swam up and down the pavement to either side of the car like schools of fish, blending together as they moved in unison. It was sort of hypnotic to watch.