Fallstar's profile

I was in love with a rockstar once. We were both young, and wild, and – well, we weren't especially innocent. Neither of us had a proper family, or a steady stream of money. My Dad worked in a petrol station, in the night shift. His was dead. He was very thin, was my rockstar. He had blonde hair, too long and not washed enough. I used to amuse myself by running my fingers through it, and untangling the knots. His eyes were blue, quite shockingly so, and he had a face very handsome indeed. And...

Chapter 3: Indiana, Chocolat and An Inappropriate Farmer Indiana was watching a movie when Kyle got back. Kyle entered the room, and looked in awe at the wall. Sixty-Four different screens, all making up one big picture. Indiana looked round at the door opening. “Ah, Kyle! You’re back. Did you see her?” “Yeah, eventually.” Kyle replied, walking up to the sofa. “What’d she say?” “Oooh, Okay, then. Also, she took your gift.” “Good, very good.” “She gave me something for you, too.” Indiana’s fac...

Chapter 1: The Captain Of NI “Ah, Mr Fallstar. Good morning. Do sit down.” “Thanks.” Indiana sat down on the rather uncomfortable chair, facing the director. “I remember…you’re here for the captaincy? “Obviously.” “Yes. Okay, let’s have a look at your record…” The man looked over the first sheet of the many-paged record. In paper, Indiana noted. “Well, Captaincy recommendation? From Sergeant Vogue…very good. That shines well on you. Next…hmmm.” Indiana braced himself for the next bit. “It app...

Katie slung her jacket on, and stole a last look around the room. Nothing she particularly needed doing right now; she was free to go. She left the room, and ventured into the corridor outside. Grey walls and graffiti assaulted her eyes, along with a possibly dead tramp near the end. She shied away from him, and started to climb down the stairs. She reached three floors below, and found the lift. The lifts, to safe on budget costs, only opened on every tenth floor. This was a minor disappoin...

Love and Care First scene is of an old people's home. Several are sitting around in soft chairs, maybe with newspapers or knitting. Gentle music is playing, but everyone looks bored. Old Woman: Dear Father Christmas... Music quietens a little, and the stage darkens. Spotlight on (floating letter?). Old Woman: I'm afraid I haven't written to you much. As a kid, I used to believe so much...(pause) it's sad when you realise the truth about you. When you get to my age, you can look back with a sm...