Here is my entry for the Ship ماہ پرستار Fiction Contest. Never done a Foreteen fanfic before, so برداشت, ریچھ with me on this one because I haven't had any practice at writing these characters and I don't write serious پرستار fiction. If this turns out to be an unholy disaster, please don't point and laugh!
Foreman & Thirteen in 'Boombox'
Foreman opened his car door and struggled to pull the giant boombox out from the back seat. It was heavy and awkward to carry, but eventually Foreman managed to lift the device out of the car and carry it to the middle of the courtyard outside Thirteen's apartment building.
He looked up and, through the windows of Thirteen's apartment, could see lights on and a shadowed body floating from room to room.
He took a deep breath and bent down to press the 'Play' button on the boombox.
"Foreman?"
Thirteen was at her window, looking down on a sheepish Foreman standing in the courtyard.
"Uh... Hi." stutter Foreman.
"What are آپ doing here?"
"Um..."
"Is that a boombox?!"
"Um..."
Foreman looked down at the boombox, then back up at Thirteen. Thirteen looked back at him, her facial expression displaying a mixture of curiosity, worry, love and anger.
"Foreman, why are آپ standing in my courtyard with a boombox?"
Foreman sighed and shrugged his shoulders.
"I... I tried to be honest with you. I tried to make things right the best way I knew how. And when those things didn't work, I tried to forget you... But I couldn't..."
Thirteen listened to what Foreman was saying, as hard as it was for her to hear.
"I'm not House- I can't ignore how I feel. I'm not Wilson- I can't marry آپ to fix our problems. I'm not Chase- I'm no good at big romantic gestures..."
Foreman paused, trying to gauge how Thirteen was responding to his speech. Unsure as to what she was thinking, he continued.
"But what I can do,
is rap."
Foreman bent down, and pressed 'Play' on the Boombox and turned the volume up as high as possible. A heavy drum beat began thumping and the sounds of Foreman's rap filled the night air.
'Remy baby
I can't believe
I made آپ leave
and now my heart's
upon my sleeve.
I'm sorry for the things I've said,
and for messing with your pretty head.
I fired آپ to keep your love,
but ended up alone and cold
but if I may be so bold
to say that I did what I thought was right.
Now I stand here in the dead of night
and ask آپ to look at me
and see
we
should be
آپ and me again
for eternity.
I rap these rhymes
for all the times
that آپ made me feel
our love was real
And before I go
I need آپ to know
that I love آپ so...'
Foreman turned the boombox off and looked up at Thirteen. She looked back at him, stunned, unsure what to say.
"You... آپ wrote me a rap?"
Foreman looked down at his shoes, embarrassed سے طرف کی what he could new see was a lame attempt at romance.
"I'm sorry. I just don't know what to do..." He mumbled.
"Foreman, we can't go back to what we had before. We lost that. Your gesture is sweet, but..." Thirteen paused and bit her lip, aware that her words would be painful for Foreman to hear.
"It's ok, Remy. I get it." کہا Foreman. He picked up his boombox and started walking back to his car. Thirteen's eyes filled with tears and she quickly pulled her head back inside her window, crawled into her بستر and cried.
Foreman shoved the boombox back in the back نشست of his car, got in the driver's نشست and drove off, as fast as he could, trying to get as far away as he could from the pain and humiliation of being rejected سے طرف کی the only woman he had ever loved.
Foreman & Thirteen in 'Boombox'
Foreman opened his car door and struggled to pull the giant boombox out from the back seat. It was heavy and awkward to carry, but eventually Foreman managed to lift the device out of the car and carry it to the middle of the courtyard outside Thirteen's apartment building.
He looked up and, through the windows of Thirteen's apartment, could see lights on and a shadowed body floating from room to room.
He took a deep breath and bent down to press the 'Play' button on the boombox.
"Foreman?"
Thirteen was at her window, looking down on a sheepish Foreman standing in the courtyard.
"Uh... Hi." stutter Foreman.
"What are آپ doing here?"
"Um..."
"Is that a boombox?!"
"Um..."
Foreman looked down at the boombox, then back up at Thirteen. Thirteen looked back at him, her facial expression displaying a mixture of curiosity, worry, love and anger.
"Foreman, why are آپ standing in my courtyard with a boombox?"
Foreman sighed and shrugged his shoulders.
"I... I tried to be honest with you. I tried to make things right the best way I knew how. And when those things didn't work, I tried to forget you... But I couldn't..."
Thirteen listened to what Foreman was saying, as hard as it was for her to hear.
"I'm not House- I can't ignore how I feel. I'm not Wilson- I can't marry آپ to fix our problems. I'm not Chase- I'm no good at big romantic gestures..."
Foreman paused, trying to gauge how Thirteen was responding to his speech. Unsure as to what she was thinking, he continued.
"But what I can do,
is rap."
Foreman bent down, and pressed 'Play' on the Boombox and turned the volume up as high as possible. A heavy drum beat began thumping and the sounds of Foreman's rap filled the night air.
'Remy baby
I can't believe
I made آپ leave
and now my heart's
upon my sleeve.
I'm sorry for the things I've said,
and for messing with your pretty head.
I fired آپ to keep your love,
but ended up alone and cold
but if I may be so bold
to say that I did what I thought was right.
Now I stand here in the dead of night
and ask آپ to look at me
and see
we
should be
آپ and me again
for eternity.
I rap these rhymes
for all the times
that آپ made me feel
our love was real
And before I go
I need آپ to know
that I love آپ so...'
Foreman turned the boombox off and looked up at Thirteen. She looked back at him, stunned, unsure what to say.
"You... آپ wrote me a rap?"
Foreman looked down at his shoes, embarrassed سے طرف کی what he could new see was a lame attempt at romance.
"I'm sorry. I just don't know what to do..." He mumbled.
"Foreman, we can't go back to what we had before. We lost that. Your gesture is sweet, but..." Thirteen paused and bit her lip, aware that her words would be painful for Foreman to hear.
"It's ok, Remy. I get it." کہا Foreman. He picked up his boombox and started walking back to his car. Thirteen's eyes filled with tears and she quickly pulled her head back inside her window, crawled into her بستر and cried.
Foreman shoved the boombox back in the back نشست of his car, got in the driver's نشست and drove off, as fast as he could, trying to get as far away as he could from the pain and humiliation of being rejected سے طرف کی the only woman he had ever loved.
Note: It's a back-and-forth dialogue between House & 13, just incase آپ didn't catch that.
“Yeah, House? I’m sorry, I need to call in sick again.”
“No آپ don’t.”
“Um…yeah, I do. I’ve got a temperature of 102. I feel like crap. I’ll just infect the patients.”
“No آپ don’t.”
“Yeah I do.”
“I can hear a PA system and coughing behind you.”
“You heard the ویژن ٹیلی and my cough.”
“Thirteen, where are you?”
“At home, in my bed.”
“Thirteen!”
Pause
“Princeton General.”
Pause
“You’re that sick?”
Pause
“Thirteen!”
Pause.
“Tell Foreman I’m sorry.”
Dial tone.
“Yeah, House? I’m sorry, I need to call in sick again.”
“No آپ don’t.”
“Um…yeah, I do. I’ve got a temperature of 102. I feel like crap. I’ll just infect the patients.”
“No آپ don’t.”
“Yeah I do.”
“I can hear a PA system and coughing behind you.”
“You heard the ویژن ٹیلی and my cough.”
“Thirteen, where are you?”
“At home, in my bed.”
“Thirteen!”
Pause
“Princeton General.”
Pause
“You’re that sick?”
Pause
“Thirteen!”
Pause.
“Tell Foreman I’m sorry.”
Dial tone.