VM fic: Side project
Sure, you might think it’s cool to walk through walls and spy on people.
Unfortunately, when you die? Yeah, kind of a bummer for your nearest and dearest so they basically sit around moping all the freaking time and who wants to watch that?
And since I seem to be stuck here, I figured out pretty early on that I would have to make my own fun. And when it comes to having fun there aren’t a lot of options. You can’t drink, you can’t drive, you can’t have sex - so you can’t have sex while driving under the influence.
However, one day I noticed something. I was talking to Veronica. She couldn’t hear me (obviously) but that wasn’t stopping me from filling her in about my day (watched Duncan get up, watched Logan eat breakfast, watched Mom go running, watched Dad go to work, watched Aaron screw his new PA (which, by the way, ew. He has been slumming it since me)) when suddenly she reached into her wardrobe and pulled out this t-shirt
I’ve gotta say, I hate this shirt and always have. Veronica bought it with her mom (mistake number 1) and it’s this pink number with lace and it generally makes me want to vomit. If she were a true friend she’d have burned it out of respect for my passing (“passing” - most overused word at my funeral. Hello, I was freaking murdered people. Talking about my “passing” kept on making me think I’d done well at school instead of being, you know, dead). But anyway, she still had this shirt and was apparently going to wear it when I yelled at her. Something along the lines of “Veronica, when you wear that shirt you look like you got attacked by some crochet and that needlepoint kicked your ass but good. For the love of all that is holy, do not wear it.”
Or words to that effect.
And then the most amazing thing happened. She put the shirt down and pulled out one I actually like. I hadn’t been able to convince her to not wear that shirt when I was alive. But now, being dead and obviously having some sort of psychic suggesting powers, there she was, putting it away.
With practice comes perfection. Over time I’ve gotten really good at this influencing thing. In short bursts I can even have some semblance of a conversation with them. If I knew them particularly well, they can even see me.
This power I have came at the perfect time. I swear, I was about to go crazy without some kind of contact with people and nobody likes a dead crazy girl so I know we’re all thrilled that that crisis was averted.
But with power comes great responsibility. So I know you’re all thinking: “Oh gorgeous, wonderful Lilly, what do you use your powers for?"
Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, my work is noble. I travel the land and reach out to all peoples. And I give them…fashion advice. Because seriously, some people just need it.
***
“It’s not that I don’t like khaki. I love khaki. I support our troops and everything. However, unless you are part of said military or an embedded reporter, I do not think it is necessary for every item of clothing you are wearing to be khaki. Yes, I saw your boxers. You were leaning over.
Blue would be such a cute color on you. And if you got a hair cut…well I wouldn’t date you but some other girl totally would.
So please. Mix it up a little. Too much of a good thing can actually be a bad thing, which, trust me, I know.”
***
About a month or two after I was freaking murdered, I went shopping with Veronica. She looked at some pretty smokin’ dresses but only from a distance. Eventually she seemed to settle on one that was…shall we say, less than fabulous. I certainly would never have worn it. The cut wasn’t that bad actually but the color…ew.
So I tried my best to influence her.
“Get it in red, get it in red, get it in red, get it in red, get it in red.” That was my mantra as I followed her around the store.
But Veronica…she would buy her white dress.
At least she hasn’t worn one like it since.
***
“Listen to me: you are not a size four. You are never going to be a size four. A size 10 maybe. If you starve yourself. So stop buying clothes you can’t wear or look ridiculous in. Take this skirt. It’s the latest fashion. I would look super cute in it. But you don’t and you won’t. Buy something you are comfortable in and that makes you look good.”
***
Duncan is boring.
I can not influence him at all which is a pity because someone needs to do something about the freaking argyle.
It’s the pills. They make him…fuzzy. I can’t touch him. There’s just this big, fuzzy wall where a person should be.
If I hadn’t hated my parents before I sure would now.
***
There is this small period of time where people drift between sleep and being awake and that is the best time to talk to them. Firstly, they always think it was a dream the next day. Secondly, they are so close to being out of it their inhibitions just fall away. They’ll tell you anything.
“So guess what.”
“What?”
“Paris Hilton? Totally sleeps naked.”
“Honestly Lil, that’s not much of a surprise.”
“Well Anna Wintour? Flannel pajamas. I swear.”
“This is what you do now? You spy on celebrities to discover the truth about their sleep wear?”
“Totally.”
When he’s almost out, I ask him.
“Logan, where did you get that bruise from?”
“Hmmm, Dad.”
Then he’s gone.
And though I haven’t eaten since October 3rd, I suddenly want to throw up the content of my stomach for the foreseeable future.
***
“Veronica, while I totally appreciate the whole finding-my-murderer-and-getting-him-hit-by-a-truck-thing - ”
“Hey! I didn’t mean for him to get hit by a truck. Just happened.”
“Whatever. As I was saying, love you lots for the daring-do and all but would it have killed you to wear something more stylish?”
“I’m sorry Lilly. I was actually on my way to change into a ball gown to wear to the sheriff’s department but I got sidetracked by the whole fridge-fire-father thing. Won’t happen again.”
“I’m just saying, this disguise? It’s like polyester or whatever. You know how I feel about polyester. Or really, anything that begins with ‘poly’. Like polyunsaturated fats. So gross."
"Polyunsaturated fat protects against illness."
"Or Polly the Parrot. God, I hate that bird.”
“Polly is spelt with two ‘L’s’ Lilly.”
“Or politicians!”
“P-o-l-i not p-o-l-y.”
“I know that Veronica. Ok, I’m changing it to things that begin with ‘pol’ as in p-o-l.”
“Better.”
“Exemption: the Polyphonic Spree. They toured with Bowie. And anything that is cool with Bowie is cool with me.”
“G’night Lilly.”
***
Now there is I something I like.
Meg Manning is usually kind of conservative with how she dresses. But today she is rockin’ a pair of jeans and a cute striped shirt with co-ordinated purple hand bag.
And of course the whole pregnant glow thing really works for her. Very cute outfit. I approve.
***
God I wish I was psychic.
***
“‘I heart guitars’ Veronica? What were you thinking?”
***
I don’t often have too much of a problem with how Logan dresses. He’s a teenage boy so of course he sometimes totally fucks up (orange pants? Just say ‘no’ kids). But generally he’s pretty good.
Still, I think this warrants a night time haunting.
“Blue, Logan? Seriously? Blue?”
“Go ‘way Lilly.”
“I will not go away. We are going to discuss this like adults.”
“Hey, I’m older than you now or whatever.”
“Be quiet. Now Logan, I say this with love, but you really can’t wear blue. At least not light blue. Navy maybe. But not light blue. So please, do not let me catch you in that shirt again.”
“Trying to sleep here.”
“Don’t care.”
***
“Hollywood tape is awesome. It has been my friend in the past. However, there are times when I recommend a bra. Because nobody wants to see your nipple. It’s tacky.
Ok, maybe thirteen year old boys want to see your nipple. But that’s it.
Oh god, I sound like my mother.”
***
A sleepy and sad Veronica. She talks slowly, stretches out words and mumbles a lot, but just because I’m not among the living doesn’t mean I can’t do the whole supportive best friend thing.
“Hey Veronica.”
“Hey Lilly.”
“V? What’s wrong?”
“It’s just…I miss Wallace. And I miss my mom. I miss Meg. I miss Logan even though he’s a stupid smirking smug so-and-so. Miss Duncan. And I miss you.”
“Veronica, I’m right here.”
“No you’re not. You’re just a figment o’ my ‘magination.”
“Am not.”
“Are too. And now…now I’m arguing with the figment. I’m crazy.”
“You are not. You’re fine.”
“You’re not real. Go ‘way not real Lilly. Don’t wanna talk to you anymore.”
***
"Logan, would you please stop stretching your sleeves like that! If your hands are cold then buy some gloves.
And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."
***
Bubble dresses.
I just do not like them.
The make you like a mushroom.
Nobody wants to look like a mushroom.
Bubble dresses = bad.
So says Lilly.
***
“Gotta say Eli, I like the new jacket. To be honest the old one kind of emphasized your lack of stature. Made you look stumpy. In fact, I’d go as far to say that it made you look like the 8th dwarf, Baldy. So yeah, well played on the new jacket.”
***
“Now Anna - ”
“Hannah.”
“Whatever. I like pink a lot too. It’s a really fun color to wear, right Lana?”
“Hannah.”
“Whatever. But just because pink re-defines awesomeness just by it’s continued existence, does not mean we have to wear it every day. Ok?
“Um, should I be taking notes?”
“That would be wise. Now I have noticed you also have some green in your closet. This is not a shade of green that I approve of. It’s like mint green. The point is, not cool.”
“Do we have to do this now?”
“Yes. Now this turtleneck, who do you think you are kidding? We live in southern California, not New England. Got all that Banana?”
“HANNAH!”
“Whatever.”
***
“I am the ghost of fashion future! Heed my warning! Continue with your pocket protector wearing ways and you will never get laid!”
***
So I guess this is what I am doing for the rest of eternity: guiding the fashion challenged towards a brighter future.
It could be worse.
Unfortunately, when you die? Yeah, kind of a bummer for your nearest and dearest so they basically sit around moping all the freaking time and who wants to watch that?
And since I seem to be stuck here, I figured out pretty early on that I would have to make my own fun. And when it comes to having fun there aren’t a lot of options. You can’t drink, you can’t drive, you can’t have sex - so you can’t have sex while driving under the influence.
However, one day I noticed something. I was talking to Veronica. She couldn’t hear me (obviously) but that wasn’t stopping me from filling her in about my day (watched Duncan get up, watched Logan eat breakfast, watched Mom go running, watched Dad go to work, watched Aaron screw his new PA (which, by the way, ew. He has been slumming it since me)) when suddenly she reached into her wardrobe and pulled out this t-shirt
I’ve gotta say, I hate this shirt and always have. Veronica bought it with her mom (mistake number 1) and it’s this pink number with lace and it generally makes me want to vomit. If she were a true friend she’d have burned it out of respect for my passing (“passing” - most overused word at my funeral. Hello, I was freaking murdered people. Talking about my “passing” kept on making me think I’d done well at school instead of being, you know, dead). But anyway, she still had this shirt and was apparently going to wear it when I yelled at her. Something along the lines of “Veronica, when you wear that shirt you look like you got attacked by some crochet and that needlepoint kicked your ass but good. For the love of all that is holy, do not wear it.”
Or words to that effect.
And then the most amazing thing happened. She put the shirt down and pulled out one I actually like. I hadn’t been able to convince her to not wear that shirt when I was alive. But now, being dead and obviously having some sort of psychic suggesting powers, there she was, putting it away.
With practice comes perfection. Over time I’ve gotten really good at this influencing thing. In short bursts I can even have some semblance of a conversation with them. If I knew them particularly well, they can even see me.
This power I have came at the perfect time. I swear, I was about to go crazy without some kind of contact with people and nobody likes a dead crazy girl so I know we’re all thrilled that that crisis was averted.
But with power comes great responsibility. So I know you’re all thinking: “Oh gorgeous, wonderful Lilly, what do you use your powers for?"
Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, my work is noble. I travel the land and reach out to all peoples. And I give them…fashion advice. Because seriously, some people just need it.
***
“It’s not that I don’t like khaki. I love khaki. I support our troops and everything. However, unless you are part of said military or an embedded reporter, I do not think it is necessary for every item of clothing you are wearing to be khaki. Yes, I saw your boxers. You were leaning over.
Blue would be such a cute color on you. And if you got a hair cut…well I wouldn’t date you but some other girl totally would.
So please. Mix it up a little. Too much of a good thing can actually be a bad thing, which, trust me, I know.”
***
About a month or two after I was freaking murdered, I went shopping with Veronica. She looked at some pretty smokin’ dresses but only from a distance. Eventually she seemed to settle on one that was…shall we say, less than fabulous. I certainly would never have worn it. The cut wasn’t that bad actually but the color…ew.
So I tried my best to influence her.
“Get it in red, get it in red, get it in red, get it in red, get it in red.” That was my mantra as I followed her around the store.
But Veronica…she would buy her white dress.
At least she hasn’t worn one like it since.
***
“Listen to me: you are not a size four. You are never going to be a size four. A size 10 maybe. If you starve yourself. So stop buying clothes you can’t wear or look ridiculous in. Take this skirt. It’s the latest fashion. I would look super cute in it. But you don’t and you won’t. Buy something you are comfortable in and that makes you look good.”
***
Duncan is boring.
I can not influence him at all which is a pity because someone needs to do something about the freaking argyle.
It’s the pills. They make him…fuzzy. I can’t touch him. There’s just this big, fuzzy wall where a person should be.
If I hadn’t hated my parents before I sure would now.
***
There is this small period of time where people drift between sleep and being awake and that is the best time to talk to them. Firstly, they always think it was a dream the next day. Secondly, they are so close to being out of it their inhibitions just fall away. They’ll tell you anything.
“So guess what.”
“What?”
“Paris Hilton? Totally sleeps naked.”
“Honestly Lil, that’s not much of a surprise.”
“Well Anna Wintour? Flannel pajamas. I swear.”
“This is what you do now? You spy on celebrities to discover the truth about their sleep wear?”
“Totally.”
When he’s almost out, I ask him.
“Logan, where did you get that bruise from?”
“Hmmm, Dad.”
Then he’s gone.
And though I haven’t eaten since October 3rd, I suddenly want to throw up the content of my stomach for the foreseeable future.
***
“Veronica, while I totally appreciate the whole finding-my-murderer-and-getting-him-hit-by-a-truck-thing - ”
“Hey! I didn’t mean for him to get hit by a truck. Just happened.”
“Whatever. As I was saying, love you lots for the daring-do and all but would it have killed you to wear something more stylish?”
“I’m sorry Lilly. I was actually on my way to change into a ball gown to wear to the sheriff’s department but I got sidetracked by the whole fridge-fire-father thing. Won’t happen again.”
“I’m just saying, this disguise? It’s like polyester or whatever. You know how I feel about polyester. Or really, anything that begins with ‘poly’. Like polyunsaturated fats. So gross."
"Polyunsaturated fat protects against illness."
"Or Polly the Parrot. God, I hate that bird.”
“Polly is spelt with two ‘L’s’ Lilly.”
“Or politicians!”
“P-o-l-i not p-o-l-y.”
“I know that Veronica. Ok, I’m changing it to things that begin with ‘pol’ as in p-o-l.”
“Better.”
“Exemption: the Polyphonic Spree. They toured with Bowie. And anything that is cool with Bowie is cool with me.”
“G’night Lilly.”
***
Now there is I something I like.
Meg Manning is usually kind of conservative with how she dresses. But today she is rockin’ a pair of jeans and a cute striped shirt with co-ordinated purple hand bag.
And of course the whole pregnant glow thing really works for her. Very cute outfit. I approve.
***
God I wish I was psychic.
***
“‘I heart guitars’ Veronica? What were you thinking?”
***
I don’t often have too much of a problem with how Logan dresses. He’s a teenage boy so of course he sometimes totally fucks up (orange pants? Just say ‘no’ kids). But generally he’s pretty good.
Still, I think this warrants a night time haunting.
“Blue, Logan? Seriously? Blue?”
“Go ‘way Lilly.”
“I will not go away. We are going to discuss this like adults.”
“Hey, I’m older than you now or whatever.”
“Be quiet. Now Logan, I say this with love, but you really can’t wear blue. At least not light blue. Navy maybe. But not light blue. So please, do not let me catch you in that shirt again.”
“Trying to sleep here.”
“Don’t care.”
***
“Hollywood tape is awesome. It has been my friend in the past. However, there are times when I recommend a bra. Because nobody wants to see your nipple. It’s tacky.
Ok, maybe thirteen year old boys want to see your nipple. But that’s it.
Oh god, I sound like my mother.”
***
A sleepy and sad Veronica. She talks slowly, stretches out words and mumbles a lot, but just because I’m not among the living doesn’t mean I can’t do the whole supportive best friend thing.
“Hey Veronica.”
“Hey Lilly.”
“V? What’s wrong?”
“It’s just…I miss Wallace. And I miss my mom. I miss Meg. I miss Logan even though he’s a stupid smirking smug so-and-so. Miss Duncan. And I miss you.”
“Veronica, I’m right here.”
“No you’re not. You’re just a figment o’ my ‘magination.”
“Am not.”
“Are too. And now…now I’m arguing with the figment. I’m crazy.”
“You are not. You’re fine.”
“You’re not real. Go ‘way not real Lilly. Don’t wanna talk to you anymore.”
***
"Logan, would you please stop stretching your sleeves like that! If your hands are cold then buy some gloves.
And for what it's worth, I'm sorry."
***
Bubble dresses.
I just do not like them.
The make you like a mushroom.
Nobody wants to look like a mushroom.
Bubble dresses = bad.
So says Lilly.
***
“Gotta say Eli, I like the new jacket. To be honest the old one kind of emphasized your lack of stature. Made you look stumpy. In fact, I’d go as far to say that it made you look like the 8th dwarf, Baldy. So yeah, well played on the new jacket.”
***
“Now Anna - ”
“Hannah.”
“Whatever. I like pink a lot too. It’s a really fun color to wear, right Lana?”
“Hannah.”
“Whatever. But just because pink re-defines awesomeness just by it’s continued existence, does not mean we have to wear it every day. Ok?
“Um, should I be taking notes?”
“That would be wise. Now I have noticed you also have some green in your closet. This is not a shade of green that I approve of. It’s like mint green. The point is, not cool.”
“Do we have to do this now?”
“Yes. Now this turtleneck, who do you think you are kidding? We live in southern California, not New England. Got all that Banana?”
“HANNAH!”
“Whatever.”
***
“I am the ghost of fashion future! Heed my warning! Continue with your pocket protector wearing ways and you will never get laid!”
***
So I guess this is what I am doing for the rest of eternity: guiding the fashion challenged towards a brighter future.
It could be worse.