"What debutante bit you and turned ya into a prom zombie?"
Something caught in Veronica's throat at the sound of her own voice, speaking words she couldn't remember ever saying. Eyes narrowed, she turned and walked into the room to see Wallace times two: one on a couch, one on a screen, with New York Attitude stuck to him and talking about lobster.
"What the hell is this?" she asked, voice dangerously soft, but she knew.
Wallace vaguely heard the voice behind him. For a moment he didn't respond, but eventually he managed to pry his gaze away, his head turning to stare at Veronica. He could hear his laughter coming out the speakers.
It took a few seconds for him to find his voice. When he did speak, his voice was strained, confused. "Veronica? W-what...?"
Mac. Oh God. All of a sudden, Veronica missed her more than she'd realized she had. Prom. We're talking about prom. I'm not sure what Clemmons' kid has to do with it, but this has to be what I missed - our future, just the way everyone said it worked. No wonder our disappearances don't affect anything. We're celluloid.
"I should have told you," she admitted, walking slowly over to sit beside him. "I - it's - Jim found a magazine. A couple months ago. Best shows you're not watching... It turns out we were one of them. I've - never seen it, though." And it's one thing to know you're fictional. It's another thing altogether to watch yourself doing things you never did.
Wallace was silent for a long moment. He stood slowly, pacing, trying to wrap his head around the information. A show. He was from a show? He had thought it was weird people came from movies and TV, but he never imagined he was one of them.
"You've known for months?" he finally asked, turning to stare at her, his voice suddenly edged with anger. "And you didn't tell me? Don't you think I'd want to know about this? How could you keep something like this from me? That's messed up, V."
Comments 76
Something caught in Veronica's throat at the sound of her own voice, speaking words she couldn't remember ever saying. Eyes narrowed, she turned and walked into the room to see Wallace times two: one on a couch, one on a screen, with New York Attitude stuck to him and talking about lobster.
"What the hell is this?" she asked, voice dangerously soft, but she knew.
This was it. This was her show.
Reply
It took a few seconds for him to find his voice. When he did speak, his voice was strained, confused. "Veronica? W-what...?"
Reply
"I should have told you," she admitted, walking slowly over to sit beside him. "I - it's - Jim found a magazine. A couple months ago. Best shows you're not watching... It turns out we were one of them. I've - never seen it, though." And it's one thing to know you're fictional. It's another thing altogether to watch yourself doing things you never did.
Reply
"You've known for months?" he finally asked, turning to stare at her, his voice suddenly edged with anger. "And you didn't tell me? Don't you think I'd want to know about this? How could you keep something like this from me? That's messed up, V."
Reply
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