Lakeside
So. This started innocently enough. Back in June, I think it was. It was supposed to be a quick little romcom!Tom prompt. Just something to pass the time and possibly torture a friend or two [cause why not, y’know?]. One glimpse of a fan photo from roundabouts the High Rise era and -- well, you can guess how easy it was to get things rolling. Vacation with Tom? Ok. That was fun to imagine, but what if... what if... what if it wasn’t a vacation, but that he lived there?
What was meant to be a drabble grew, spun, twisted and grew some more. Damn it all if the romcom drabble turned into something else. Damn it all that I can’t do something quick and easy anymore, apparently. [How the hell did it get to be 42 pages long? Who leaves me alone with my thoughts, or access to a writing medium... Gah!]
Anyway. The gist of my (long-winded) little lament is that if I ever say: ooooh prompt - or any such similar nonsense, please feel free to slap some sense into me. I need a freaking sign around my neck: Do. Not. Encourage. The Writer. (which of course will have the following in small subtext to further elaborate on the warning: You’ll end up with random messages at 3 in the morning questioning minute details in the backstory of secondary characters and swathes of dialogue that may prompt gigglefits or tears and no warning as to which.
Finally, lastly, et al [I know. Take a breath. We’re almost there.] I’ll be posting the story in installments to save the length of the posts - too late for this one, I know. Apologies. But, y’know, in the all too likely chance that someone’s readmore doesn’t work I don’t wanna force them to scroll for three years.
Lakeside
This Tom lives at the lake in the mountains where the memory of his parents is the strongest - the place where they went on their honeymoon, and took their children each summer, and would have lived out their retirement. His sister keeps renting out the old Johnson place, among other lakeside homes, and bringing in these tourists that make such a damn mess. Not to mention the fact that when they break things he’s the one that ends up having to fix them. And Tom? He just wants to be able to throw up a ‘Back in 1 hour’ sign in the window of the bait & tackle shop on their end of the marina and boat over to the only other business nearby, pop open a beer and watch the sunset at his best friend’s bar.
Intro
His plans to enjoy what remains of the season that is finally winding down are delayed, yet again, when his sister rents out the old Johnson place to someone. Two families left and she rents out one of the sites they own for an indeterminate amount of time - they were vague on the end date and willing to pay in advance plus extra, Tom. An additional complication: he still hasn’t finished repairs to that particular dock, left from the previous group that stayed there. They don’t fine the tourists enough when damage occurs, clearly. How the hell people ‘mysteriously lose’ a nailed down piece of wood he’ll never know.
[ find the story on AO3 ]












