Blurring the Edges
“And now indeed I felt as if my last anchor were loosening its hold, and I should soon be driving with the winds and waves” ~ Charles Dickens, Great Expectations
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapters 6-7
Chapters 8-10
Chapters 11-13
Chapters 14-15
Chapters 16-17
Chapters 18-20
The End
Do Not Read Beauty Magazines
(They Will Only Make You Feel Ugly)
*This story is dedicated to my mom, from whom I have inherited my warped sense of humor and self-respect. I love you, Mom! And so what if he plays the tambourine?*
Parts 1-2
The Piano Man Disclaimer:To paraphrase Webster’s: Fiction= not real. I am not in any way affiliated with Hanson, Mercury Records (yeah right), or any of the other people in this story, unless you count that my friend’s friend met Steve Greenburg at a Bat Mitzvah last year, and I don’t think you do. And, anyway, if I did know any of the above people, I swear I wouldn’t spend my time writing about them. This story is protected, but aside from the legal aspect of it, copying’s wrong, so please don’t try to pass this off as your own. Other than that, I can’t think of anything else you need to know, so happy reading! (Note from the Katie who runs this page: I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH WHAT SHE WRITES.)
Okay, so that was just way too easy, but I couldn’t resist. I have a trillion people that have helped me in some way make this story happen, but I don’t think you have any interest in my fifth grade English teacher, so I’ll be selective.
First and foremost, thanks to Ike, Tay, and Zac Hanson, for having the courage to do what they love and for inspiring me. And thank you in advance for not suing my ass in court for writing about you (hint, hint).
Thanks to Katie, for offering to host my ramblings and for saving them from the scary void that is Microsoft Word.
Thanks to Mariel, for not looking at me weird when she found out I was writing a fanfic, and for co-writing the world’s best story that nobody gets...Radio City, Baby!
To Suey, Cath, Mishie, and D2, my muses, who sat around at lunch trying to think up names for characters they never heard from, and who are the wonderfullest friends in the world and always have time to listen... Luv you guys!
To everyone else I’m sure I’ve forgotten, you’re all the bees knees!
*This story is dedicated to Jill, who in the short time I’ve known her has had more impact on my life than she could ever know. Love ya, Jill!*
Think I should win a Pulitzer? Think I should be thrown into jail in a cell next to John Gotti for making up stories about innocent children? E-mail me at AzaleaBabe@aol.com and let me know, ‘kay?
Parts 3-4
Parts 5-8
(Okay, this story was actually put up a while ago, but I (the one who runs the page) forgot to put up the link on here. It was sent out in a link with the updates list and on the main page updates and all, but I sorta forgot. SORRY, KATIE!!!!)