A/n: Hey. I'm sort-of back. :) I still have one final exam to go and it's over. Here's a little short, short vignette to re-introduce myself back into the world of within the ship KBOW. Hehe.

I do have to warn you that this is a rather angty fic, so steer clear if you want happy thoughts. I'd appreciate some feedback. Thank you and enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Except the plot. COPYRIGHTED, kthxbai.

Flash

You signed everything they shoved at you with that sweet, propped-up smile that seemed to last for longer than I thought was humanly possible. Glimpses of your frustration and wariness flickered through when inebriated women sneered sexual harassments, their try at being oh-so seductive. And yet you remained civil. Polite.

Photographs, so many blinding lights from flash that wasn’t needed – wasn’t your star bright enough? Every two minutes, the girl leaning against you - your arm around her - would shuffle off, with a breathless and heady ‘thanks’, to share a couple of giggles with her friends outside. There was no end to the monotony, no change in conversation: the ‘how are you’s and the ‘enjoying yourself tonight’s with a smattering of short, clipped personalised questions in order to make others feel as though they were recognised.

But they… we. We were all a blur to you.

The line-up moved excruciatingly slow. The parade of eligible women – all in different shades, shapes, sizes – felt daunting. The point was lost by that time anyway. I felt rather meek when I was nearly in front of you... and I had reason to.

There was no flash of recognition in your eyes, not even a second’s worth. What else was I meant to ask but whether you would sign my jersey – seeing that I didn’t bother to purchase anything else for you to sign. You did. I asked for a photo. You accepted. The warmth of you pulling me closer as you leaned in for a better shot felt almost too voyeuristic to me. It made me feel like I was using you… like everyone else were.

No flash.

It wasn’t needed.

I smiled, as genuinely as I could have mustered; what I did, no matter how normal it seemed, felt wrong. You smiled back in that perfectly synchronised practised and measured smile of yours.

“Thank you, Oliver.” I said, trying to keep myself from asking if you remembered me.

“Cheers.” Was all you said since you already turned to the next person in line.

Dismissal.

I went outside where my friends stood around in a group, laughing… their laughter bouncing off the surrounding buildings’ concrete walls.

“Katie!” they called - their voices echoing, careless... happy - waving me over, “Katie Bell, come over here now!”

I forced a smile, so much like yours I presumed, and started to cross the street towards them. I looked behind in the faint, faint hope of you recognising my name.

I glanced around to see you signing your half-hearted signatures on everything they shoved at you; a new girl every two minutes leaning against you with your arms around her; flash bulbs going off. Blinding you.