this world is only gonna break your heart
Her world was spinning apart in her hands. Oh, it could always get worse. If anyone knew that, it was Veronica Mars. But that didn't keep it from being pretty damn bad.
She had thought it bad enough when she took a bet that she had known she shouldn't have (but when you gamble like that, you deal with the consequences), and she had thought it sucked hard enough when he had called her kissable (and then sat there and didn't do a thing), and she had thought he couldn't make things any worse than he had with that dance (and all those things he shouldn't have said, and all the things he didn't say). And now he had ruined things again, saying things he'd never yet said, looking at her in a way that made her scream at herself. You should have seen it coming.
But she hadn't on the island - or she had, and she'd ignored it. How could she expect anything more of herself on TV? And now Veronica Mars couldn't be sure if she never wanted to see it again, wanted only to destroy it and pretend it had never been, or if she wanted to come back to the bookshelf every half hour, scouring the collection for one more cannister of film. They held the answer. They could tell her who had wanted her dead and why, or they could vindicate her completely, tell her she didn't carry eight deaths on her shoulders. And then there was the question of Hannah. "Hannah really did do a number on you, huh?"
"Come on, you know I'm not talking about Hannah."
He needed to learn a new line. That epic thing was old and dead and tired - broken and overdone and ringing in her ears. "No one writes songs about the ones that come easy."
Forty-two minutes of a life she'd never known had flashed before her eyes, and she wanted it back again, just to see her dad one more time. Her head was ringing with questions she couldn't answer, spinning from Woody Goodman to Gia to Lucky (who was he, anyway? She couldn't remember knowing him, but she'd greeted him by name), flying from her dad to Logan, to Logan. And ew. Like she'd wanted to see that little made-for-the-WB pseudo-love scene anyway. Looking at Wallace was going to be hard for the next few days, that was for sure. She hadn't spoken to Duncan in the day since she'd seen it. She didn't want him to see it, but she didn't know how much longer she could keep it a secret - not with the island working against her. And sooner or later she would have to talk to Chase about awkward things she didn't want to talk about.
Everytime she entered the rec room, the jukebox played the Dandy Warhols. She had liked the song before, but now that she knew it was her theme song, she was seriously considering deleting it from the iPod. She had a feeling it would never sound the same again. Curled up on the couch, she pulled the iPod out of her bag, toying with the idea of at least trying to drown out the sound of her own life condensed into a snippet of song.
[The blonde is moody, but looking to be distracted, so don't worry. She won't bite. Not most of you, anyway. Dialogue from episode 2x20 "Look Who's Stalking." The first thread contains a miiiiiiiiinor spoiler for season 2.]