Author’s note: be gentle. I don’t speak British English, English isn’t even my native tongue. And this is my first ever QAF-fic, so, well, be gentle. And I actually LIKE Cameron. Loved the way he handled Nathan at Hazel’s (for a moment I thought I heard the voice of experience – obviously not. Hah, FAB!) Special Thanks to Alex for beta-ing and for letting me meet her – won’t be the last time, gal!

Watching the Watcher

He keeps talking. Yakking away like there was nothing else in this world that was worth talking about. Stuart here, Stu there, Stuart had said this and done that.

I have stopped listening quite a while ago.

Why am I doing this to myself?

Why am I still tagging along, watching the watcher?

I could do anything, nothing would truly reach Vince. He is so immersed in his adoration of that deprived bastard that Stuart is, he had grown completely blind to the rest of the world.

Probably wants to be blind by now. Because the day he opened his eyes and truly looked around he would have to realize he has wasted the best years of his life for some kind of a peep show - if it's even that good. He isn't even a gap-filler for Stuart.

Jones would rather not cop off at all 'ere he touched Vince. Heaven's sake, no!

Vince is the ever-attentive audience, the faithful fan Stuart needs, living on the crumbs Stuart seems to let fall accidentally.

He's probably even happy the way it is. It's safe and when you got used to the pain of longing it isn't as bad. You grow numb after a while, learn to live with it.

How do I know?

Isn't that obvious?

Vince is my mirror.

Vince is my Stuart.

He'll never be mine and I know that, yet I so long for him. Long for him to REALLY take notice of me. To LOOK at me with seeing eyes. To see how I love him, how he is worth it. How he deserves all I could give him, how he deserves so much more than what he contends with now. Long to shag him senseless, pouring all my love into the act.

But I'm only the audience Vince needs to give voice to his adoration of Stuart.

I'm not even a substitute, merely a gap-filler for Vince yet I crave whatever he is willing to give me, any smile, every nice word.

I need to make sure I'm not growing blind!

Because then there will be no turning back.

I need to make sure to keep the pain acute, not to get used to it.

Need to remind myself what I see is what I might become in the end.

I should leave, yet can't.

And so I clench my fist in my pocket, fingernails digging deep into the palm and I continue, with eyes seeing and wide open to gaze at my own future. I pray somebody will save me from that. But then, I would probably even be happy like that.

So I keep hating Stuart.

Keep loving Vince.

Keep tagging along.

Keep watching the watcher.

FINIS

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