Well, I don't own ER or anything like that, if I did... Romano would be alive and well. *grumble grumble*.... I also don't own Clay Aiken or his grammatically incorrect (but still good) song "Invisible"... By the way: In my little world I've created here, Mark never died (they were never involved) and there is no Ella.

Pllleeeaaassseee Review!

~Natalie~

************************************************************** She doesn't even see me. She doesn't even know that I'm there. Boy, ain't that the story of my life? I have such a presence, such a commanding authority when it comes to business. But when it comes to matters of the heart, I'm invisible. To her anyway, or any red-blooded woman I've ever come into contact with.

So I'm not exactly GQ material, but then again, what man is nowadays? None in the greater Chicago area, I can tell you that much right now.

I'm not a woman's dream but surely (by looks alone) I can't be her nightmare, could I?

By the way my life has been going lately, love aspects included, I must have the damn plague as far as women are concerned. But, that's really of no matter. And why? Because, for years I've only had eyes for one woman. And ain't it just a kick in the damn head that she doesn't even know I exist.

As a colleague? Yes, she knows I'm around.

As a Friend? Sometimes the thought may cross her mind.

As an arrogant asshole? You bet your ass she notices every single day.

But as a man? No.

As a lover? Hell no.

And that is, sadly, the story of my life.

But, I'm not looking for pity here. Far be it from me to ever seek pity from anyone lowly enough to offer it. I'm just stating the facts.

Does it hurt? Sure. I mean, why wouldn't it? It's a beautiful woman who doesn't even know I exist. It's amazing how smart she is, yet she's quite obviously blind. Why, you ask? Well, because I've been head over goddamn heels in love with her for years. And I don't think she suspects a thing.

But, then again, there's the British for you, huh?

Think they know everything, and granted, all of those Oxford graduates are pretty knowledgeable, but when it comes to common sense, they don't have the first clue.

See, there's my problem right there. I give the woman too much credit. But, I guess that's what love does to you.

I hate sounding like this, really, I do. I'm not one that cares for the expression of emotions too much, but it's really sometimes necessary, as much as I hate to admit it. I've never been good at this whole love crap. Never. Not since I was little.

And yeah, I'll never be the charming Romeo that'll come and sweep Cinderella, or Sleeping Beauty or whatever her name is off of her feet. Something about Capulets and Montagues, I don't know... but I'll never be him. I've known that my whole life. I'm the guy that'll tell it like it is. I show my love by severe and harsh sarcasm.

What woman wouldn't love that?

Now, that brings me to my next topic, modern women. The women today really do piss me off. Thinking they're equal. No, I'm just kidding, I'm all for women's rights as the next man, but sometimes, they take it a little too far. I like women just well and fine, one in particular, but there are some rights they just shouldn't have. Like going off to war! Who wants a woman PMSing on the battlefield? Not me, that's for sure. Hell, she'd probably shoot one of her own platoon members for Midol. And a lot of good that would do us, huh?

But, I digress.

Anyway, back to my apparent invisibility. Today, I decided that enough was enough. I was going to tell her flat out how I felt. If she liked it, she liked it, if she didn't, she didn't. Well, push comes to shove, nothing goes as planned, and she ends up running off with some tall dark and handsome type from surgery.

Yeah, I'm pretending that didn't hurt.

So, now here I sit, listening to the radio (why, I don't know) and thinking about what I could have said to make her notice me.

Suddenly, I hear the faint sounds of a familiar song. I hate this song. But I turn it up anyway.

It's that gay little kid from American Idol... what's his name? May, Clay, Fay? Something like that, I don't know.... But, since I have nothing better to do, I listen to the words.

"What are you doing tonight" Not much Clay, how about yourself, I think dryly. "I wish I could be a fly on your wall" Yeah, I bet you do sicko. "Are you really alone" No loser, I'm here with my invisible friend. "Who's stealin' your dreams" Not you buddy, definitely not you. "Why can't I bring you into my life" Well, I don't have a witty comeback for that one. ..... But then I stop for a minute and listen. Maybe this kid is on to something. "What would it take to make you see that I'm alive... If I was invisible

Then I could just watch you in your room

If I was invisible

I'd make you mine tonight

If hearts were unbreakable

Then I can just tell you where I stand

I would be the smartest man

If I was invisible

(Wait..I already am)" Boy, I know what you mean there buddy.

I stop to think for a moment. Hmmm... that sounds vaguely familiar. I wonder where that emotion comes from.

"I reach out

But you don't even see me

Even when I'm screaming

Baby, you don't hear me

I am nothing without you

Just a shadow passing through..."

Oh yes, I feel that verse with every fiber in my being. Normally, I wouldn't even be listening to a song such as this... But this one hits a little too close to home.

"If I was invisible

Then I could just watch you in your room

If I was invisible

I'd make you mine tonight

If hearts were unbreakable

Then I can just tell you where I stand

I would be the smartest man

If I was invisible

(Wait..I already am)"

I shake my head back and forth. My goodness, how I share the sentiments of this guy. But, Clay, my dear friend, Hearts aren't unbreakable. I know that. Let's face it... we all know that. There's no use pretending when it comes to that.

'hmmm' I think to myself... the song was pretty good excepting the obvious grammatical errors. I mean seriously... who on earth writes this crap? "If I was invisible" it's a good concept for a song (one that I can certainly relate to) but shouldn't the writers have to pass at least middle school grammar?

I sigh. Maybe I'm too picky. Too fickle? I don't know, but I've decided I've had enough of this. It's time for bed. I'm tired, and I'm still reeling from the lyrics of that awful, but true song.

Hmmm... If I WERE invisible... Wait... I already am. Yep, definitely a little too close to home.

One thing's for sure though... I'm going to bed pretending I'm a fly on the wall in Elizabeth Corday's room...

Unless she's brought that useless surgeon back with her... then, I will be able to fulfill the upchuck quota of an actual fly.

When will she realize that I'm the only surgeon for her?

Maybe after she sleeps with them all....

But, no matter... she's worth the wait.

***************************************************

This one will be continued as well.

Kay, I know I'm writing a lot of different stories, and I'm sure you're all wondering how I keep them straight, but I try.

I was in the mood for a somewhat light piece, and I just got the Clay Aiken CD, and I really do like this song, so, I figured that I'd use it.

Please let me know what you think (Though I'm a little bit scared on this one, as it was a bit cheesy)

Thanks!

~Natalie~