[paul/nina] and the lights blind me
Title: and the lights blind me
Fandom: rpf (real person fic)
Characters: paul wesley, nina dobrev, ian somerhalder
Word Count: 1,783
Rating: pg
Spoilers: teen choice awards 2011
Disclaimer: if rpf ain't your thang, turn around nowww. you have been warned.
Summary: And there’s that twinkle in her eyes as she looks at him that he remembers seeing the very first day they read together. The twinkle that made him fight tooth and nail to make sure they picked him for Stefan Salvatore. The twinkle that made the air drop out of chest when he pulled away from their first kiss as Stefan and Elena and it was there, shining in her eyes.
This is... I don't even know what this is. I brainstorming this little piece AS SOON AS THE TCAS FINISHED LAST YEAR. I don't know why it's taken me so long to finish it but hey. At least it's done now?
It's not as angsty as my other dobsley pieces. It doesn't really have much to it at all. But I got this idea in my head the minute I watched their little segment and knew I needed to get it down.
Anyway. Hope you guys enjoy! Now that this is (finally!) done, I'm going to do my best to keep the ball rolling and work on some other pieces I've got hanging around. Thanks for all the encouragement; it means a lot!
and the lights blind me
Paul isn’t good at this kind of thing.
They walk towards the centre of the stage, Nina between Ian and himself. She walks with her hands linked through each of their arms and he can feel her fingers resting gently on the inside of his elbow.
The crowd is screaming and screaming and as they approach the microphone, he looks out into the sea of people and feels his heart thumping, loud and heavy, inside his chest. The noise is thunderous and he breathes in and swallows, willing his heart to slow to a normal rate.
He’s trying to be better at this. He really is.
But Paul’s not made for this kind of stuff. For thousands of people screaming his name and crying at his feet and desperate for just a nod or a wave in their general direction. He’s not made for standing on a stage, live on national television, preening to the audience without a character to transform into.
He’s not good at being himself in front of all these people. He doesn’t know what he should be doing with his hands, he doesn’t know where he should be looking, he doesn’t know how to be confident and proud and not shit scared.
But he’s trying. And that counts for something, right?
(#)
It’s a few hours before the show starts and there’s people running around everywhere trying to make sure everything is just right.
Presenters are being shown through the stage set up; where they’ll enter, where the teleprompters will be, which side of the stage they’ll exit. The stagehands give them a brief outline of their scripts and skits so they know ahead of time what they’ll be in for during the night.
Nina, Paul and Ian have nearly finished their run through and Paul’s actually feeling okay about it all. He thinks he might actually be able to get through this without freezing or tripping over his words (or his feet).
A writer with a clipboard pulls them over to the side of the backstage area and tells them which award they’ll be presenting.
“We want to do a fun, slightly longer bit with you guys before you present the nominees,” he explains. “Something that plays on the reaction Ian gets from all the girls.”
Paul nods, happy to go along with whatever they have planned. After all, he’s used to this. Ian has it way worse than he does when it comes to the screaming girls clawing at him and confessing their undying love. And Paul is so damn thankful - it works out well for him, he gets to stand to the side and breathe and be normal - because for whatever reason, Ian’s a goddamn natural at it all.
This whole circus seems to agree with Ian. It’s like it’s been inside of him all along. He has it down to a precise and fine art. The smile, the wave, the “thank you guys so much, I love you too!” It doesn’t faze him, doesn’t slow him down. Instead, he seems to thrive in the chaos of it all.
The writer continues his idea. “So after the girls finishing screaming Ian’s name, we’ll throw to Nina and she -“
“Nah, nah, it’s been done,” Ian waves him off. “I’ve got a better idea.”
The writer’s brow furrows but that doesn’t deter Ian.
“Let Paul be the ladies man tonight.”
Ian’s grinning from ear to ear, clearly proud of this idea and instantly, Paul panics.
“Ian, no.”
He casts a quick glance beside him to Nina. Her eyes are narrowed and she’s chewing on her bottom lip, nodding at Ian, waiting to hear more of the idea.
Paul scoffs, rocking back on his heels. “No way. Guys, come on. We’re just setting ourselves up for failure. There’s no way the girls in the audience are going to scream louder or more for me with you standing right there next to me…”
“Not them,” Ian says, throwing his hand out towards the empty seats. He wraps his arm around Nina’s shoulder and brings her to his side. “She will.”
Paul looks at her and she’s kind of leaning into Ian and laughing, and he can tell she’s already sold on the idea.
“I-”
But the guy with the clipboard and the headset, the writer, is already scribbling notes down and gushing about how ‘fresh’ the skit will be and how much he loves the idea and how everyone’s going to go nuts for it.
Paul rakes his hand through his hair and blows out a heavy puff of air.
He’s not getting out of this.
Ian walks off with the writer, both of them talking animatedly and shooting lines back and forth and Paul thinks he hears Ian say “and then he’ll do a sexy growl…” and Paul feels his stomach roll around inside of him.
Nina puts her hand on his forearm. “You okay? You’re looking a little tense there.”
Paul puts the heel of his palm to his head and shuts his eyes, grimacing. “I’m not like Ian when it comes to this stuff.”
“What stuff?”
“You know, Nina. The whole, ‘I’m on stage in front of millions of people and I’m pretending to be myself but I’d never actually do this in real life’ stuff.”
Nina lets out something that sounds like a giggle and a snort at once and Paul shoots her a glare.
“It’s not funny, Dobrev.”
“Oh Paul,” she pats his arm and shakes her head. “It’s gonna be okay. It’s not the Oscars, it’s the Teen Choice Awards.”
He rolls his head back and groans. “Teenagers are worse.”
She puts both of her hands on his shoulders and he can feel her thumbs touching the skin just underneath the sleeves of his shirt. He looks at her and she’s staring right at him.
“It’s going to be okay. Just.. follow my lead. It’ll be you and me up there.” She shrugs. “We’ll put on a show for them.”
He wants to roll his eyes and run away. But a smile tugs at the corners of Nina’s lips and she says, “Come on, it’ll be fun. Right, partner?”
And there’s that twinkle in her eyes as she looks at him that he remembers seeing the very first day they read together. The twinkle that made him fight tooth and nail to make sure they picked him for Stefan Salvatore. The twinkle that made the air drop out of his chest when he pulled away from their first kiss as Stefan and Elena and it was there, shining in her eyes.
That twinkle that means Paul can’t help but nod, smile back and reply, “Right.”
(#)
They’re on stage and people are screaming. He’s asking Ian why the girls all go nuts when he says hi and honestly, Paul swears everyone can see how much he’s shaking and sweating. He feels awkward and nervy and he doesn’t really know what to do with his hands when he says, “let me give it a shot” and leans in to Nina and whispers her name.
He keeps his eyes on her face, focused, because looking out at the crowd just makes his palms sweatier. He watches as her eyes fall to him, and how a wicked smile spreads over her lips as she turns towards him and suddenly, his nerves melt away.
The noise of the crowd disappears. The screaming fades and all he hears is her voice in his ear.
The pounding of his heart slows and it’s almost as though time slows down with it. She reaches out and places a hand on his chest and she presses her nose against his and he lets out a breath. It’s just them and it’s okay, it’s okay, because it’s him and it’s her and he can do this; be with her, touch her, want her, he knows how to do this and he’s good at it.
Then she pulls away and continues with announcing the nominees and he turns back to look back out into the crowd and he feels his heart begin to race again.
The clip plays behind them listing each nominee and as they stand on the stage and wait, Nina gives him a little nudge with her elbow and wrinkles her nose at him with a tiny smile.
He sends her a nervous little smile back and wants to tell her thanks for helping him - but he’s not even sure that he understands why she’s able to make him feel so at ease so damn quickly.
Suddenly the lights are back on them and the teleprompter is flashing and he’s supposed to speak to the crowd again and his nerves kick back in so quickly that he flubs the lines and speaks when Ian is meant to.
They present the award and Ashton Kutcher sings on stage and finally (it feels like they’ve been up there for hours) they walk backstage and make their way back to their seats.
Paul sits back down next to Torrey and he makes a silly kind of face at her, because he doesn’t know how else to say how fucking glad he is that part of the night is over (but also he feels kind of weird about how much he enjoyed it too).
Torrey grins at him and plants a kiss on his cheek and says warmly, “You did really well, sweetie.”
He gives her a half smile and rubs at the back of his neck. “I just kind of really hate that part of the job.”
She leans in a little closer to him and pats him on the arm. “I still think you did a great job.”
He smiles back at her and sits back further into his chair as she turns to her side and continues a conversation she was having with a lady beside her.
Paul feels long fingers at the nape of his neck, curling into his hair just slightly. Nina’s voice is just by his ear. “Now Mr Wesley; was that so horrible?”
He almost starts to let out a groan and tell her how much he hates this side of the job, how he wishes he could leave it all to her and Ian who are naturals at it and just let him stand to the side of the public spotlight.
But he glances behind his shoulder and he sees her leaning forward in her chair, her face by his cheek. She’s simply beaming, her eyes crinkling from the force of the smile sitting on her lips and Paul can’t help the matching grin that slides onto his lips as he looks back at her.
"You know, it really wasn’t.”
END.
Fandom: rpf (real person fic)
Characters: paul wesley, nina dobrev, ian somerhalder
Word Count: 1,783
Rating: pg
Spoilers: teen choice awards 2011
Disclaimer: if rpf ain't your thang, turn around nowww. you have been warned.
Summary: And there’s that twinkle in her eyes as she looks at him that he remembers seeing the very first day they read together. The twinkle that made him fight tooth and nail to make sure they picked him for Stefan Salvatore. The twinkle that made the air drop out of chest when he pulled away from their first kiss as Stefan and Elena and it was there, shining in her eyes.
This is... I don't even know what this is. I brainstorming this little piece AS SOON AS THE TCAS FINISHED LAST YEAR. I don't know why it's taken me so long to finish it but hey. At least it's done now?
It's not as angsty as my other dobsley pieces. It doesn't really have much to it at all. But I got this idea in my head the minute I watched their little segment and knew I needed to get it down.
Anyway. Hope you guys enjoy! Now that this is (finally!) done, I'm going to do my best to keep the ball rolling and work on some other pieces I've got hanging around. Thanks for all the encouragement; it means a lot!
and the lights blind me
Paul isn’t good at this kind of thing.
They walk towards the centre of the stage, Nina between Ian and himself. She walks with her hands linked through each of their arms and he can feel her fingers resting gently on the inside of his elbow.
The crowd is screaming and screaming and as they approach the microphone, he looks out into the sea of people and feels his heart thumping, loud and heavy, inside his chest. The noise is thunderous and he breathes in and swallows, willing his heart to slow to a normal rate.
He’s trying to be better at this. He really is.
But Paul’s not made for this kind of stuff. For thousands of people screaming his name and crying at his feet and desperate for just a nod or a wave in their general direction. He’s not made for standing on a stage, live on national television, preening to the audience without a character to transform into.
He’s not good at being himself in front of all these people. He doesn’t know what he should be doing with his hands, he doesn’t know where he should be looking, he doesn’t know how to be confident and proud and not shit scared.
But he’s trying. And that counts for something, right?
(#)
It’s a few hours before the show starts and there’s people running around everywhere trying to make sure everything is just right.
Presenters are being shown through the stage set up; where they’ll enter, where the teleprompters will be, which side of the stage they’ll exit. The stagehands give them a brief outline of their scripts and skits so they know ahead of time what they’ll be in for during the night.
Nina, Paul and Ian have nearly finished their run through and Paul’s actually feeling okay about it all. He thinks he might actually be able to get through this without freezing or tripping over his words (or his feet).
A writer with a clipboard pulls them over to the side of the backstage area and tells them which award they’ll be presenting.
“We want to do a fun, slightly longer bit with you guys before you present the nominees,” he explains. “Something that plays on the reaction Ian gets from all the girls.”
Paul nods, happy to go along with whatever they have planned. After all, he’s used to this. Ian has it way worse than he does when it comes to the screaming girls clawing at him and confessing their undying love. And Paul is so damn thankful - it works out well for him, he gets to stand to the side and breathe and be normal - because for whatever reason, Ian’s a goddamn natural at it all.
This whole circus seems to agree with Ian. It’s like it’s been inside of him all along. He has it down to a precise and fine art. The smile, the wave, the “thank you guys so much, I love you too!” It doesn’t faze him, doesn’t slow him down. Instead, he seems to thrive in the chaos of it all.
The writer continues his idea. “So after the girls finishing screaming Ian’s name, we’ll throw to Nina and she -“
“Nah, nah, it’s been done,” Ian waves him off. “I’ve got a better idea.”
The writer’s brow furrows but that doesn’t deter Ian.
“Let Paul be the ladies man tonight.”
Ian’s grinning from ear to ear, clearly proud of this idea and instantly, Paul panics.
“Ian, no.”
He casts a quick glance beside him to Nina. Her eyes are narrowed and she’s chewing on her bottom lip, nodding at Ian, waiting to hear more of the idea.
Paul scoffs, rocking back on his heels. “No way. Guys, come on. We’re just setting ourselves up for failure. There’s no way the girls in the audience are going to scream louder or more for me with you standing right there next to me…”
“Not them,” Ian says, throwing his hand out towards the empty seats. He wraps his arm around Nina’s shoulder and brings her to his side. “She will.”
Paul looks at her and she’s kind of leaning into Ian and laughing, and he can tell she’s already sold on the idea.
“I-”
But the guy with the clipboard and the headset, the writer, is already scribbling notes down and gushing about how ‘fresh’ the skit will be and how much he loves the idea and how everyone’s going to go nuts for it.
Paul rakes his hand through his hair and blows out a heavy puff of air.
He’s not getting out of this.
Ian walks off with the writer, both of them talking animatedly and shooting lines back and forth and Paul thinks he hears Ian say “and then he’ll do a sexy growl…” and Paul feels his stomach roll around inside of him.
Nina puts her hand on his forearm. “You okay? You’re looking a little tense there.”
Paul puts the heel of his palm to his head and shuts his eyes, grimacing. “I’m not like Ian when it comes to this stuff.”
“What stuff?”
“You know, Nina. The whole, ‘I’m on stage in front of millions of people and I’m pretending to be myself but I’d never actually do this in real life’ stuff.”
Nina lets out something that sounds like a giggle and a snort at once and Paul shoots her a glare.
“It’s not funny, Dobrev.”
“Oh Paul,” she pats his arm and shakes her head. “It’s gonna be okay. It’s not the Oscars, it’s the Teen Choice Awards.”
He rolls his head back and groans. “Teenagers are worse.”
She puts both of her hands on his shoulders and he can feel her thumbs touching the skin just underneath the sleeves of his shirt. He looks at her and she’s staring right at him.
“It’s going to be okay. Just.. follow my lead. It’ll be you and me up there.” She shrugs. “We’ll put on a show for them.”
He wants to roll his eyes and run away. But a smile tugs at the corners of Nina’s lips and she says, “Come on, it’ll be fun. Right, partner?”
And there’s that twinkle in her eyes as she looks at him that he remembers seeing the very first day they read together. The twinkle that made him fight tooth and nail to make sure they picked him for Stefan Salvatore. The twinkle that made the air drop out of his chest when he pulled away from their first kiss as Stefan and Elena and it was there, shining in her eyes.
That twinkle that means Paul can’t help but nod, smile back and reply, “Right.”
(#)
They’re on stage and people are screaming. He’s asking Ian why the girls all go nuts when he says hi and honestly, Paul swears everyone can see how much he’s shaking and sweating. He feels awkward and nervy and he doesn’t really know what to do with his hands when he says, “let me give it a shot” and leans in to Nina and whispers her name.
He keeps his eyes on her face, focused, because looking out at the crowd just makes his palms sweatier. He watches as her eyes fall to him, and how a wicked smile spreads over her lips as she turns towards him and suddenly, his nerves melt away.
The noise of the crowd disappears. The screaming fades and all he hears is her voice in his ear.
The pounding of his heart slows and it’s almost as though time slows down with it. She reaches out and places a hand on his chest and she presses her nose against his and he lets out a breath. It’s just them and it’s okay, it’s okay, because it’s him and it’s her and he can do this; be with her, touch her, want her, he knows how to do this and he’s good at it.
Then she pulls away and continues with announcing the nominees and he turns back to look back out into the crowd and he feels his heart begin to race again.
The clip plays behind them listing each nominee and as they stand on the stage and wait, Nina gives him a little nudge with her elbow and wrinkles her nose at him with a tiny smile.
He sends her a nervous little smile back and wants to tell her thanks for helping him - but he’s not even sure that he understands why she’s able to make him feel so at ease so damn quickly.
Suddenly the lights are back on them and the teleprompter is flashing and he’s supposed to speak to the crowd again and his nerves kick back in so quickly that he flubs the lines and speaks when Ian is meant to.
They present the award and Ashton Kutcher sings on stage and finally (it feels like they’ve been up there for hours) they walk backstage and make their way back to their seats.
Paul sits back down next to Torrey and he makes a silly kind of face at her, because he doesn’t know how else to say how fucking glad he is that part of the night is over (but also he feels kind of weird about how much he enjoyed it too).
Torrey grins at him and plants a kiss on his cheek and says warmly, “You did really well, sweetie.”
He gives her a half smile and rubs at the back of his neck. “I just kind of really hate that part of the job.”
She leans in a little closer to him and pats him on the arm. “I still think you did a great job.”
He smiles back at her and sits back further into his chair as she turns to her side and continues a conversation she was having with a lady beside her.
Paul feels long fingers at the nape of his neck, curling into his hair just slightly. Nina’s voice is just by his ear. “Now Mr Wesley; was that so horrible?”
He almost starts to let out a groan and tell her how much he hates this side of the job, how he wishes he could leave it all to her and Ian who are naturals at it and just let him stand to the side of the public spotlight.
But he glances behind his shoulder and he sees her leaning forward in her chair, her face by his cheek. She’s simply beaming, her eyes crinkling from the force of the smile sitting on her lips and Paul can’t help the matching grin that slides onto his lips as he looks back at her.
"You know, it really wasn’t.”
END.