It's not easy being famous. Even if it's cheap, fleeting, reality TV show fame.
People send you letters, -she isn't sure how they managed to get a hold of her address- writing you fan or hate mail, -she promptly responds to every hate with a long rant and a threat about getting her lawyers involved- and sometimes stare as you're passing by. She even gets the occasional fan, who comes up to her, squealing in a very Katie and Sadie type manner, which makes her cringe slightly as she at least attempts to be friendly.
It had been a long two years of drama. She'd loved, lost, loved, then lost again. However, the last time definitely cut the deepest. She'd thrown her dignity to the wind, along with all the morals she once had.
Yet he still managed to stay on the show longer than she had; life was incredibly cruel.
Sometimes she reads the fan mail she gets. People gushing over her, congratulating her, apologizing for her ex-sorta-friend and ex-boyfriend's unforgivable behaviour. She likes those letters the best.
Sometimes, she gets the ones that make her stomach twist uncomfortably.
"Oh my GOSH! I loooove you and Duncan together! You're sooo much better than Gwen! Why not get him back?"
She rips up those letters; tossing them carelessly into the trash.
As if it were that simple; as if her sheer will alone could pry him out of the pale hands of her enemy. People were so stupid.
He's a little more easy going when it comes to the whole being famous thing. He's even signed an autograph or two. It's not that bad; kinda cool, really.
He knows it'll die down in a month or so anyway, so why not enjoy it while the spotlight's on you?
Still, the fan mail is by far the most annoying thing. His mom is tired of ninety percent of the mail being for him; since he never reads them in the first place.
Sometimes, when Gwen's over, she'll pick through the envelopes curiously. She's gotten her own stacks of course, but she's curious as to what his say.
The first one she grabs, she reads out loud: "Dear Duncan; I really hope you read this, I'm your BIGGEST fan!" Gwen snorts, taking on a squeaky, prepubescent teenage girl's voice. "I just have to ask you; why'd you cheat on Courtney? She was so perfect for you! And-" Gwen's stopped reading. She pushes that one aside with a frown.
Duncan's laying in his bed, one arm thrown over his eyes lazily. "Perfect for me? Hardly."
People were just a bunch of idiots.
Eventually, the letters dwindle. Fewer and fewer come, and eventually, they become yesterday's news.
They're both okay with it; they were tired of all the fans. It was too much work being famous; too much hassle.
Still, Duncan saved one single letter, at the back of his nightstand's drawer. It's hidden by textbooks he never reads, and some comic books he's saved from when he was a kid.
The handwriting on it is one he actually recognizes, from when he spent hours glaring down at the large contract the person in question had thrust upon him. He opens it carefully; looking almost apprehensively at his bedroom door, which he imagines will open the moment he starts to read it.
He locks the door.
The paper inside is worn, slightly crumpled, and ripped at the edges, as if it someone took an eraser to the pencilled words a little too roughly. He can imagine that's exactly what happened. It's easy to picture her face, scrunched up in concentration as she tries to word it flawlessly. She must have sat at her desk for hours, hunched over the sheet until the wee hours of the night, writing paragraph after paragraph.
Instead, there are three little words in the middle of the page, along with a signature.
"I miss you..."
It's one fan letter, he won't be throwing away.
Weeks pass; it's mid June, and the heat is sweltering, even at seven AM. That's when she sees the postman walk up the driveway, and shove a handful of letters into the mail box.
She sighs. Just when she assumed the fan mail had ended.
To her surprise, however, only one is for her. It's sloppily written, and she notices a doodle of a skull on the corner of the page, which makes her heart leap into her throat. Five simple words, that she replays in her mind, every day.
"Always thinking of you, Princess."
They exchange letters every three weeks. Ten words or less.