36: fan fic { numb3rs } : "kid-sized coffin" [skyler]
title. kid-sized coffin
author. nv
fandom. numb3rs
characters. skylar wyatt
rating. r
genre. angst
warnings. implied drug use and adult themes
spoilers. "obsession"
word count. 200
challenge. #170 "los angeles" for numb3rs100
feedback. is the reason i do this.
disclaimer. the characters and canon contained herein are the property of cheryl heuton and nicolas falacci, as well as any associated writers, producers, networks, and parent companies. the following was written by neur0 vanity. no copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.
author's note. the flash, direction narration borrows from chuck palahniuk's invisible monsters, an absolutely incredible novel.
American Idol makes it look so pretty, like all it takes is dreams and talent, like all you have to do is sing and sing well, put on a nice dress and pick a good song and make the crowd feel it. As if talent is enough.
Los Angeles is a dirty place filled with dirty air and even dirtier people. American Idol doesn’t show the blowjobs, doesn’t show the parties you fucked your way into and the lines of coke you have to snort to fit in with the producers and people who’ve already got what you want.
All Skyler Wyatt ever wanted was love and affection, and she got it. It’s right outside her window in the flashing lights of the paparazzi, at every fucking corner and all along Robertson Boulevard.
Flash.
Give me beauty.
Flash.
Give me sex appeal.
Flash.
Give me righteous indignation and the middle finger.
Flash.
Give me psychosis on the road to suicide.
Flash.
There’s no going home. She can run to anywhere, and they’ll always be there - somebody who knows who she is or was and wants to take it for a ride. All she can do is die pretty and young.
end.
like it? watch whereismytalent.
author. nv
fandom. numb3rs
characters. skylar wyatt
rating. r
genre. angst
warnings. implied drug use and adult themes
spoilers. "obsession"
word count. 200
challenge. #170 "los angeles" for numb3rs100
feedback. is the reason i do this.
disclaimer. the characters and canon contained herein are the property of cheryl heuton and nicolas falacci, as well as any associated writers, producers, networks, and parent companies. the following was written by neur0 vanity. no copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.
author's note. the flash, direction narration borrows from chuck palahniuk's invisible monsters, an absolutely incredible novel.
American Idol makes it look so pretty, like all it takes is dreams and talent, like all you have to do is sing and sing well, put on a nice dress and pick a good song and make the crowd feel it. As if talent is enough.
Los Angeles is a dirty place filled with dirty air and even dirtier people. American Idol doesn’t show the blowjobs, doesn’t show the parties you fucked your way into and the lines of coke you have to snort to fit in with the producers and people who’ve already got what you want.
All Skyler Wyatt ever wanted was love and affection, and she got it. It’s right outside her window in the flashing lights of the paparazzi, at every fucking corner and all along Robertson Boulevard.
Flash.
Give me beauty.
Flash.
Give me sex appeal.
Flash.
Give me righteous indignation and the middle finger.
Flash.
Give me psychosis on the road to suicide.
Flash.
There’s no going home. She can run to anywhere, and they’ll always be there - somebody who knows who she is or was and wants to take it for a ride. All she can do is die pretty and young.
end.
like it? watch whereismytalent.