What If Derek Hale Was A Pop Star.
“Hey, remember that Derek Hale that used to creepy stalk your room?” Scott says, mouth wide open and eye’s flitting from the door to the TV.
“Yeah? So?” Stiles replies stiffly, his tone making it so god-damn clear he did NOT want to talk about dick-douche-dog Derek. No, sir. Not after the prick had eloquently said in less than three words he and Stiles would never be.
There was some douche on Ellen. Saying how his music is inspired by all the heartbreaks he had to endure. A load of bull shit Stiles thinks. Ellen asks him if theres someone special for him and he laughs, muttering hold on I’ll ring them.
Stiles spares a minute to wistfully dream that he was that celebritys sweetheart before he reminds himself that everyone’s a douche in the music industry.
“Apparently he’s a pop star.” Scott says casually. Like it’s casual. Like anything about Derek freaking Hale is casual. LIKE THE FACT HE’S A FUCKING POP STAR IS CASUAL.
Stiles jaw drops open and Scott fixes him with a sympathetic look.
“Holy-” Stiles phone begins vibrating obnoxiously in his back pocket and he fumbles to grab it quick.
He looks at the caller ID and his air seems to disappear.
“Answer!” Scott screams at him, his voice too loud for their shitty dorm room.
Stiles doesn’t answer. Slowly he turns his phone of and turns to look at Derek. On the fucking TV.
Derek, mini TV, Derek, sighs on screen before putting his phone away. He turns to look directly at the camera, directly at Stiles.
“Hi.” he whispers.
Stiles is minutely aware of Scott turning the volume up and grabbing phone but nothing else, all his attention is focused on the freaking gorgeous creature on the TV.
“It’s been two years, Stiles. Pick up the phone.”
Stiles chokes and the air comes whooshing out of him as he tries desperately to breathe.
“Pick up so I can start again. With ‘Hi’”
TV Derek disappears. The whole screen goes black.
“Sorry!” Scott screams trying in vain to place the wires he’d tripped over back in place.
“No. It’s fine.” Stiles says. He gets up and goes to his room, ignoring Scotts calls.
As he lay on his lumpy bed he considers his fucking life.
Derek Hale rejected him.
Derek Hale disappeared.
Derek Hale became a Popstar.
Derek professed his fucking love to Stiles. On TV. On national fucking TV.
Stiles groans and rubs his hands over his face.
How the hell was this his life?