“Write Where It Hurts” Alternate Story

A Fanfic brought to you by Angelinhel kckli@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: I do not own Daria or any characters thereof. MTV does. I’m just having fun. Don’t sue me. I have no money. The beginning of this is quoted from the episode “Write Where It Hurts” written by Glenn Eichler.

Feel free to reproduce or quote or whatever. Just put my name on it. And maybe my email. I’ll take the blame.

Short Summary: Daria’s mom tells her to be honest about what she wants to happen, and use that in her story assignment. Daria writes her own ‘shipper story.

Helen - Daria, the easiest thing in the world for you is being honest about what you observe.

Daria - And...

Helen - What's hard for you is being honest about your wishes. About the way you think things should be, not the way they are. You gloss over it with a cynical joke and nobody finds out what you really believe in.

Daria - Aha! So my evil plan is working.

Helen - If you really want to be honest, be truthful about what you'd like to happen. There's a challenge.

Daria - When the hell did you learn so much about me?

Helen - It's a funny thing, Daria. You give birth to someone, you just get an urge to keep tabs on them.

Daria’s Story:

Jane- I’m out of burnt umber! I can’t finish this painting without burnt umber!

Daria- Shall I get the matches so we can burn some umber?

Jane- Ha ha. I have to run to the store, I really need to finish this before the deadline. You coming?

Daria- I think I’ll pass. You do remember what happened the last time I went with you to get paint…

Jane- Ah, “Daria in Blue” I remember it well. Come on, it wasn’t that bad!

Daria- You weren’t the one covered in 4 gallons of ‘ocean blue’ latex paint.

Jane- All in the name of art. Well, if you want to stay by yourself…actually Trent should be up soon, maybe you two can have some quality time together.

Daria- I hate you. Do you have anything to read? I forgot my book.

Jane (tosses a pack of playing cards at her)- Sorry. No books, gotta maintain my C average after all, can’t have any books tempting me.

Daria- I’ll just play a rousing game of Go Fish by myself then.

Jane- I’ll be back soon enough. Maybe too soon if Trent wakes up…

Daria- If you don’t leave soon, you’ll be stopping at the hospital on the way there.

Jane leaves. Daria opens the pack of cards, shuffling absentmindedly. Trent sticks his head in the door.

Trent- Janey? Oh, hey Daria.

Daria- Eep!

Lost in thought Daria is taken by surprise and manages to throw the cards she was shuffling, creating a grand mess.

Trent- Have you seen Janey?

Daria (blushing)- She went to get more paint. She should be back soon.

Trent- Oh. Why didn’t you go with her?

He sits on the bed next to her.

Daria- It involved moving.

Trent (chuckles)- I hear that. So, what are you doing?

Daria- Well, I was deciding what card game to play and it looks like it’s going to be 52 pickup.

She starts to pick up the cards strewn about the floor and bed.

Trent- I’ve been practicing for hours.

Daria (VO)- Sleeping with your guitar again?

Trent- I need a break. You wanna play a game?

Daria (blushing)- O-K. What game?

Trent- Hmmm, don’t know many card games…war?

Daria- Have you ever played that game? It could take hours, maybe days.

Trent- Don’t want to spend that much time with me? Or are you afraid you’ll lose?

He gives her “the look.”

Daria- All right. War it is.

They begin to play. Daria feels slightly awkward, Trent seems oblivious, as usual.

Daria (VO)- Say something! You can’t just sit here for hours playing this ridiculous game without talking. Say something interesting. Like what? I don’t know. Oh, great now I’m arguing with myself in my head. Call the institute, we have a winner.

Trent- Daria!

Daria (snapping out of it)- Wha?

Trent- You won the point. Take your cards. (looks at her for a beat) What were you thinking about? New story idea?

Daria- Huh? Oh, yeah. You know, inspiration abounds during War.

Trent (slightly missing her joke)- Yeah there were some great songs from the Vietnam era. No one writes good rock like that anymore.

Daria- Not even you?

Trent- I try. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s even worth it. I mean, what am I doing with my life? I’m 20 and I still live at home.

Daria- At least you don’t live with your parents.

Trent (laugh, cough, cough)- Good one, Daria.

Daria- It’s like I said before, at least you’re going after your dream, instead of just sitting around waiting for life to happen to you. I hope I don’t end up saying “if only I had...” I think it’s worse to regret a missed opportunity than to regret a chance taken. At least you can say you tried.

Trent- Yeah…thanks. You know, you always know what to say. I think you’ll make a great writer.

Daria- Thanks, Trent. I guess I’ll have to make that leap someday. To put it all on the line as a writer. I hope I have the guts.

Trent (leaning closer to her)- I know you can do it. Sometimes you just gotta take that chance.

Daria (looking up)- Yeah, sometimes you just have to take a chance…

Daria (leans forward) (VO)- What am I doing? Am I about to kiss Trent?

Trent doesn’t back away. They kiss.

Daria (VO)- Oh my God! I’m kissing Trent. And he’s kissing me back!

They break it off, looking into each other’s eyes.

Trent- Daria?

Daria- Yes?

Trent (in Jane’s voice)- Are you done with your story? Do you want to get some pizza?

Daria (shakes head)- What?

Jane (enunciating slowly)- Are you done with your story? Do you want to eat pizza?

Daria- Uh, yeah, sure.

Jane- Wow, that must be some story you’re writing. Can I read it?

Daria- No. I have to write a new one. There’s no way I’m giving this to O’Neill.

Jane- Ooooh! That good, huh?

Daria- You’ll never know.

Jane- And to think I show you all my art…

Daria (skeptical)- Really?

Jane- OK, you got me. Let’s get some pizza.

They leave to go to Pizza King. Daria forgets her notebook on the bed. It’s open to the first page of the story. Trent sticks his head in the door.

Trent- Janey?

He walks into the room and looks at Jane’s newest masterpiece, then spies the notebook on the bed. He would’ve ignored it, but sees his name written in the text. He picks up the notebook and reads Daria’s short story. Then notices the title “Thinking Honestly.”

Trent- Hmmmm…

He leaves the room carrying a tube of burnt umber paint, in search of a deck of cards.