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Ed Discovers Fan Fiction

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She knew better, but Taylor stabbed “accept” as soon as the chime sounded. Eddie’s moon-shaped face filled her screen, redder than usual. It would be 9 a.m. in the U.K.; she hoped he hadn’t taken up morning drinking.

“’Ave you seen this bloody fan fiction?” he demanded, without any preamble.

“Eddie,” she answered in as calm a voice as she could manage. “How many times have I told you, never search your own name on the internet?”

“But I’m bloody bored! I’m quarantined! Can’t even hit the pub. Just play guitar all day and stare at the bloody ceiling. It’s not a life, I tell you. Not a life at all.”

“Would you care to switch places?” Taylor felt resentment seep into her voice, and tamped it down. “Sure, it’s a fifty-million-dollar waterfront estate. And I’m sealed up in it with my friend Karlie and a damned Kushner. She went and married a Kushner, Eddie! Every day I wake up and before I’ve even had coffee, I have to see that face, the same face as his bumbling idiot brother Jared, Mister I-read-25-books Jared Kushner.

“Bastard was born on third base and thinks he hit a triple. I worked for this, Eddie. You know that. I earned it with my voice and my songs and my ass.”

“Taylor, calm down, love. It’s not so bad as all that. I mean it, call up this site called AO3. There’s story after story of me having butt sex with those bloody One Direction poofters.”

“I know, Eddie, I know. I’ve seen it. But there are 34 stories where you get to have me, so there’s that.”

“Right, and one three-way with you, me and that Kushner wanker.”

“I think I’m going to vomit.”

“Oh, it’s worse. You remember that bit I did on Game of Thrones? Finest bloody acting in that whole series. And how many times does that get a story? One. Just one, and I get stabbed in the back by some Martian skirt before I get to do any heroing.”

“You get killed by a Martian chick,” Taylor repeated slowly, trying not to burst into laughter. “In Game of Thrones.”

“That’s what I said, innit? A naked Martian with big tits spears me in the back whilst I run away. You’d think they’d let me boink her, but no, I just get to stick it in Harry Styles’ bum.”

“And that’s the only story about your Game of Thrones character?”

“The only one. I had to sit there and be directed by those two bloody idiots what wrote the thing, speak their crappy dialog and sign autographs after, and not one boob in the whole scene. They wanted me to actually sing Kumbaya, do you know that? Go ahead and do it, management said. Be good for your career, they bloody well said. Now do I get to slay a dragon? Do I get to be a happy whorehouse customer? Shoot a Stark with a crossbow? No, just fan service for some silly little bint what’s in the show. Nipsey Hussle did Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, the show by that comic with the big lovely tits, just bloody brilliant. So why not me?”

“I wanted to be on Game of Thrones,” Taylor mused, only halfway listening to the rant. “I wanted to stab somebody with a sword, see a fountain of blood gushing out, it would have been epic. They just wanted me to show my tits. These girls stay under wraps for anything less than 10 mill, honey.”

“I got to touch them for free,” Eddie said. “Put it right ’tween them, I did.”

“That’s why they call it Friends With Benefits, Eddie. Doesn’t just the memory make you feel better?”

“’Spose it does, even if that geezer Hiddleston was there first. Be a love and send some fresh nudes so’s I can have a good wank.”

“Goodbye, Eddie.” Taylor closed the laptop, then smiled, took out her phone and headed for the mirror.