What I’m about to quote to you (with one mild edit for language of the sort I don’t use on my blog) comes from the story I was writing in late October, to which my NaNo novel was a sequel. I’d been working on the same scene (a press conference being held by a rock star and his boyfriend, whose relationship had recently had recently been exposed (in every sense of the word) by a sleazy paparazzi-type in a tabloid) for a while, and had started to lose touch with it, I suppose…
“You better believe it!” Curt laughed, before kissing him passionately. Arthur could hear the flashbulbs going off, but he couldn’t force himself to break away from the kiss. It felt too good. And, deep down, a part of him hoped that maybe photos of them kissing might help other young men accept themselves the way photos of Curt and Brian had helped him. Even having that thought made Arthur hate himself for putting on such airs. That he would have the nerve to compare himself to Brian — to imagine that he could ever be even a quarter as important to Curt as Brian had been — shocked and disgusted him. No matter what Brian had become since, he had been the love of Curt’s life, and Arthur knew that wasn’t going to change for someone as pathetic as he was.
The reporters were already shouting more questions by the time they parted. “What else are we supposed to be asking you, man? This scene is growing tedious!”
“You’re telling me? Let’s get the f*** out of here.”
As you may have guessed, they weren’t supposed to say any of that…but yes, I really did find myself typing that as I realized I didn’t remember what else I needed the reporters to ask them.
(Yeah, I’m still hooked on writing Velvet Goldmine fanfic. Actually been posting this one to AO3, in fact. Though I haven’t gotten this far in the posting yet. Oh, uh, spoiler warning. If anyone happens to see this who’s been reading it. Which seems unlikely at best.)