Summary: Rebellious virtuoso Jasper is struggling to make it through the holidays. It seems like just about everyone is together and all he wants is to avoid his mother's matchmaking. What will happen when he meets Alice? Spencer Bell and 100 Monkeys songs used.
Disclaimer: The songs mentioned are Ugly Girl by 100 Monkeys and Hardwired by The Stevedores. The plot belongs to me. The characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Happy reading.
Hardwired
I glanced at the mahogany grandfather clock and tapped my foot to the beat of each passing second. I had twenty minutes to get an hour away. I was at my parents' house on the scenic Wilson River Highway in Oregon to wallow in shit-company. Why was I here? Well, my darling sister and I were out of work—and whatever I do—for Christmas break starting tonight. I had plans later and for the rest of the week—including Christmas Day—but my mother begged me to come for dinner so I did, knowing all too well what she had in store, but naively hoping otherwise.
A little background: Rosalie was my perfect twin sister. She had recently gotten engaged to the football star from university, Emmett McCarty. This night was a celebration for Rosalie and a reality check for me for I was the disappointment in the family.
I was born and raised well. I am an ideal gentleman to all ladies and treat everyone with respect—so long as they do the same for me. Still, ever since I was little, I was a rebel without a cause. When I was old enough to understand the warped and premeditated life I had, I had found my cause. However, my parents' plan for me was far from what I wanted.
They bribed the university enough to get me in, but I refused to continue the hearty sports craze. I'm a musician. That's all I want to be. My parents refused to see that, so I needed to convince them. Here I am: college dropout with three tattoos and twelve ex-girlfriends—or promising housewife material—watching my sister beam as she looks googly-eyed into her fiancé's face.
Emmett was a cool guy and Rosalie totally understood my shit and need to rebel. My parents were another story. They threatened military school on me so many times that I lost count. My father was a hard-ass and workaholic. He had no connection with me at all and just didn't get me, not that I understood him either. My mother was afraid of him, but taught me well. She was disappointed in my life choices, but knew she raised me well enough that I was at least a polite bastard.
She still tried though. My mother wanted me married and settled by the age of twenty-five and seeing as I had just turned twenty-four a week ago, she was desperate. I had prepared myself for this.
We were all sitting in the living room: Emmett and Rosalie on the love seat, my father in the armchair—his armchair, my mother in a chair she brought in from the dining room, and I sat on the piano bench, facing the clock behind my father.
There had been an awkward silence for five minutes or so before I cleared my throat and shifted, daring to speak. "Mom, I have to—" I began, but something stopped me.
There was a knock at the door and my mother's eyes lit up as she looked over at me, instead of the direction of the sound. Great.
Good ol' Mamma Whitlock got up and bounded to the door. "Maria, how nice of you to come on such short notice," I heard my mother greet our guest rather loudly. I glanced in their direction and shuddered.
Maria. Maria was an ex-girlfriend of mine. Our families were good friends and in equal standing. Our fathers held the same status at work; our mothers were both housewives. My mother was devastated when I broke it off with her, but Maria fucking cheated on me three times and I knew it all three times, but kept up the act for my mother's sake.
She didn't just cheat on me; she left. She left a fucking letter on the counter with a lipstick stain on the seal. The dresser drawers were emptied, the light was left on in the bathroom with her drool-worthy skintight red dress still on the back of the door. Her two-day old engagement ring was enclosed in the envelope.
Thanks, mom, for inviting my ex-fucking-fiancé.
Rosalie immediately looked over to me with a concerned glance. Our twin telepathy was out of whack. She either asked me, are you okay? or said something along the lines of, cool it, asshole.
Mom came in with Maria on her arm, looking gorgeous as always in a twisted way. She was wearing a skintight Dolce Gabbana dress—don't judge; being twins with a fashionista makes me know this shit. No, not gay, just fashionably aware.
"Everyone, I invited Maria to come join us tonight," my mother said with an anxious grin. "Maria, you know everyone, but this is Rosalie's fiancé, Emmett." They awkwardly exchanged greetings as I stared at her legs.
"Hi, Jasper," her fucking sweet voice cooed. My eyes slid up to meet her gaze of smug victory.
"Hey," I replied evenly, crossing my legs to conceal any hard-on that may also come a 'knocking.
Another awkward silence resumed before my mother offered her a seat and began questioning her apparent successful last few months. I zoned out, waiting for a pause in the conversation to excuse myself.
"And then I made it clear I wasn't taking no for an answer and they were impressed enough to give me the promotion," she continued with a proud grin.
My mother clasped her hands together and opened her mouth to speak as I got up and her intentions were diverted. "Where are you going?" she asked with a stern glare. God, she was going to hate me.
"Bathroom," I replied nonchalantly. My mother nodded once and I avoided my father's gaze as I left the room. Hesitating in the doorway, I glanced over at Rosalie and gave her an apologetic smile. She nodded minutely and looked away from me. I'd call her later.
I did go to the bathroom, going down the hall to the last door on the right, ignoring the professional studio adolescent pictures plastered along the periwinkle walls and shutting the door behind me. I didn't turn on the light, I merely went to the window and unlocked it before lifting up the latch and swinging open the large window. I hopped out the first story window, shutting it silently behind me. Naturally, this wasn't the first time I snuck out of the house.
I sprinted across the acreage of back yard as I called Edward. "Where the hell are you, man?" he yelled into the phone.
"Nice greeting, bud. Hello to you, too," I spat back as I took my keys out of my pocket and mounted my trusty steed: Ducati Diavel (Google image that shit; my baby is gorgeous).
"I'll be there ASAP, keep your panties on," I said and cut off his next remark with the rev of my engine as I hung up and sped off. Two minutes later I felt my phone buzz. My mom knew I was gone. I felt a tinge of regret, but I had a gig in Portland tonight and her inviting my ex-fiancé to dinner was my cue to leave.
I prayed to the good lord that I wouldn't get pulled over after weaving in and out of traffic, and I hadn't, which almost made me want to reconsider the atheist path I had been on… Nah. I hopped off the bike when I got in front of the bar and Peter was standing outside, smoking a cigarette.
"You son of a bitch," he greeted me as I got to the door. He stomped out his cigarette and opened up the door. "Where have you been?"
"Family thing," I replied with a shrug, walking past him. "By the way you owe me fifty bucks. My sister's engaged and it isn't to you," I called over my shoulder. He mumbled incoherent swears under his breath and I grinned, hopping up on stage and slipping back behind the wall.
Edward let out a sigh of relief when he saw me. I held up my hands in surrender. "I know, I know, but I'll explain my adultery later," I teased. "Let's stay together for the children's sake," I added with a fake pout.
Edward clasped a hand on my back and threatened me half heatedly as we went right back on stage where the equipment was already set up along with Peter, who was behind the drum set. I picked up the guitar and Edward took his place behind the keyboard. I stepped up to the mic and tapped it once before speaking.
"How's Portland doing tonight?" I asked with exaggerated enthusiasm. I hated setting up gigs and always did it horribly, but everyone stuck around once they heard the music.
Some considerably drunk man yelled something positive from the back of the bar and I held my fist in the air. "Yeah, hopefully we'll all be as drunk as that guy by the end of the night," I said with a smirk. I got a few chuckles as Peter added a bad joke trademark rim shot. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, I'll be here all night.
"Alright, we're an unnamed band and we're gonna try to play these instruments. Enjoy."
The first chord rang out and I stepped away from the mic, dipping my head as I enjoyed the beginning riff of the song. I milked it a bit, improvising a little, before bringing my head up and letting a chord ring out as I sang the first line.
"She was young, but she liked to act younger than she was," I practically growled out the first few lyrics, closing my eyes as I ground out the next few chords. "She was dumb, but she liked to act more dumb than she was…" Guess where this inspiration came from.
It came from quite a bit of bad relationships from everyone in the band: my shit with Maria and every lying, cheating one after her, Edward's fling with Tanya on his trip to Alaska a few years ago, and Peter's womanizing rendezvous coming back to bite him in the ass. "She'll leave a beautiful corpse."
But now Peter and Charlotte, some blonde he met at the records store last week, were married. Their love of the Pixies and Bono made them inseparable—weird combo, huh? Oh yeah, and Edward had Bella, which was partially my fault, but I was still bitter. I was the only lone wolf in a band that was formed on the basis of many bad relationships with women who lie, cheat, and steal.
I looked out into the audience and saw Bella sitting with her legs crossed to reveal her classic look: converse chucks, jeans, and plaid, complete with Budweiser in her hands. She wolf-whistled and I rolled my eyes.
I met Bella in college before I dropped out. She was an English major and graduated a year early. I was undecided and only managed to finish my freshman first semester. Still, we kept in touch and had the same internal play list. She was a second sister to me. Long story short, I introduced Edward and Bella and the rest is history.
I stepped away from the mic, my back facing Bella as I ground out the riff toward the end of the song. I glanced to Peter, who was jittery from my interrupting his nicotine fix earlier, but definitely had a kick ass beat. Edward had his head down and never lifted it from the keys. I was the only one who would go up to the mic, the other two refused. I didn't get it.
I turned back to the microphone to finish he last line, "she don't know how to stop." The final chords were played in a blur and I muffled the last one, stepping away from the mic stand to fix any sour tunings. There were a few claps and screams—mostly from tipsy Bella.
I smirked, still concentrating on the strings as I spoke through the microphone. "Thank you, complete stranger," I said sarcastically and she giggled. "Can we all clap for Bella at least? She's doing a fine job as groupie," I addressed the audience, moving back to give her a round of applause. Bella stuck her tongue out at me, but did get up and bow to those who were drunk enough to play Jasper Says.
Acoustic guitar brought us into the next song. "I got this chip on my shoulder, I stole off the old block, and it's more of a boulder and it weighs much more than this world. And I—can't hold her, no more," I milked the last two lyrics before the song picked up and got—well, funky.
Edward jammed on electric gee-tar, Peter on drums, I hopped on over to keyboard and vocals. "There's too much to know too quickly and you're too slow," I repeated over and over, above Edward's riff, closing my eyes and fidgeting in place as the anticipation grew.
"You're just too slow," I growled before the next line erupted and Edward took the solo line, the bass exploding into a kick ass alternative mess before it died off too soon.
"Now that you figured it out, don't you miss the puzzlement, befuddled as you were? The answers to your questions weren't nearly as obscure as you thought they would be," I sang over the light mellow solo Edward picked up.
"And now you're bored because the wonderment's gone and you're starting to forget what you were wonderin' about all along. Well, well, well, well, well, regardless," I built up to the last line, climbing the scale as I finally opened my eyes into the audience. Bella was googly eyed for Edward, something I had seen just an hour ago when Rosalie looked at Emmett in my parents' living room.
Beside Bella was a new guest, one whose cobalt eyes were fixed on mine and I couldn't look away.
"Wonderland's never been uh-anything," I sang shakily, my eyes burning for the relief of a blink or two, but she wouldn't allow it.
"Wonderland's never been uh-anything," I didn't see the rest of her body, the rest of her face, her hair, her skintight dress, her smile, her blush—just her eyes.
"Wonderland's never been uh-anything, but a handful of sand," I paused, Edward glancing at me from the edge of my peripheral vision in anticipation for the final chord. It felt like hours. It was one of those moments where you step outside of yourself to watch what the hell your body is doing and wondering why the fuck you look like such a moron.
Bella wolf-whistled and I finally tore my eyes from the girl to sing the final three words, "at the Oasis."
Applause resumed and I glanced in the woman's direction, her eyes were out of sight—thank the lord. My eyes were free to roam: designer jeans, designer blouse, designer shoes, and spoilt air that reeked of a Breakfast at Tiffany's marathon. Nice try, Jasper.
Then I saw her pearly whites as she giggled with an old friend, who just happened to be sitting next to her, who also just happened to be Bella. Score.
"You were here a half hour late! Off. The. Stage," the bar manager called in an aggravated whisper from stage left. I rolled my eyes and turned around to wave at Peter and grab his attention, as he was too involved with playing the air drums.
"Yo, Pete!" I yelled, tossing a guitar pick at his temple. That got his attention. He stumbled to his feet, the freaking goofball, and grabbed his beer from the stand before joining us backstage. Edward already packed up the guitar and bass as I came back with the piano.
"Before you say anything," I immediately cut off the exaggerated complaints Edward had come up with. He was already prepared for it, too, with his arms crossed, topped with a scowl. Oh, Eddie boy, you could never be mad at me. "I got stuck at my parents'. Would've left sooner if my mom hadn't invited cheating fiancé princess over."
Edward's anger immediately fell. "Maria?" he asked and I nodded, crossing the room to put the keyboard away. "Shit, man, I'm sorry." He followed me out to Peter's van right outside the heavy metal doors. He jumped in front of me to open up the back doors and helped me slide it in.
"I'm definitely looking for an out when it comes to this family-Christmas-shit," I grumbled, stacking the other cases beside the keyboard and sitting in the trunk. I took off my leather jacket and threw it somewhere behind me as I noticed Edward's hesitation. "Are we still—oh no, man, come on, what happened to distracting my parents at the Annual Whitlock Prude Party?"
"I hate to add insult to injury, but Bella kind of—sort of," he paused, looking down at his feet as the door burst open and Peter stumbled to the truck with half empty beer in hand. "I'm going to Washington for Christmas Day… y'know, to meet Bella's dad?"
"That's not insult to injury; that's injury to injury," I groaned, lying back in the truck as Peter collapsed in the passenger seat in front of me. I closed my eyes as Edward began apologizing, but I didn't need that shit. I was happy for him, I was. Hell, I set up the two of them, but everyone was moving ahead except me.
… Peter was still drunk off his ass as always.
"Can I borrow your phone to call Charlotte and let her know of his, er, condition?" Edward asked after a pause. I didn't look up, but merely handed him my phone and he ignored the polite reply rule. Whatever.
I sat up angrily and looked over to see Bella, coming from the back door of the bar, go straight to the passenger seat to knock on the window as Peter practically foamed at the mouth. Everyone laugh at our drunken friend. This band was going nowhere and my Christmas break was ruined.
I'm a professional pessimist.
"Nice tattoo."
"Holy shit," I jumped at the voice from right beside me. I turned and it was mystery girl, the one with the eyes, remember? She was leaning against the truck as Edward walked around to the front to either greet Bella or make sure Peter was still alive. How the hell did she get here without me noticing? Then again, I was in the middle of my internal Eeyore.
I got a better look at her. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her eyes were a bit too large for her face, but looked more like a doe's innocent eyes—god I sound like a moron. She bit her bottom lip in concentration, furrowing her brow. Her hair was a chopped pixie cut, curled at the tips from a long day.
I followed her gaze to my bicep. "Uh, thanks."
"What does it mean?" she asked, legs tucked underneath her as she hopped into the back of the truck beside me as if I invited her—not that I minded.
"Uh—it's Latin for 'The soul that can speak through the eyes, can also kiss with a gaze,'" I mused, admiring the dips of cursive and not really thinking about the lovely lady beside me. "It's an old—"
"Gustavo Bastilda, or Bécquer quote," she recognized with a smile, our eyes meeting again. Her gaze was appreciative, admiring. Mine was whipped.
"Jasper," I introduced, blinking away the trance.
"Alice," she replied with an innocently devilish smile. Was it odd I was fantasizing right now? No, you won't get a front row seat to my fantasies, pervert, but if you saw this girl, you'd have the same thoughts...
"Great job, boys, but who is ready to celebrate?" Bella asked as she climbed over the front row of seats to join mystery girl and I in the back.
"Where are we going?" Alice asked and I chuckled at her naivety.
"Our apartment, like always," I said with a classic eye roll. Bella stuck her tongue out at me and I mimicked her. "Let me get my bike. Will you be okay taking Pete home?" I called to Edward, who was already in the driver's seat, in a post make out haze. I shuddered, thankful I had missed that greeting.
He nodded wordlessly and I hopped out of the back, mocking a salute and dipping my imaginary hat before heading to the front of the bar to ride my bike back to the apartment.
Edward was ditching me on the Whitlock Christmas Party Disaster, but maybe Miss. Mystery with the captivating gaze, fashion sense, and intelligence would get me out of a set-up courtesy of Mama Whitlock… Did I just say captivating?
A/N: Like/Hate? Leave it in a review and I'll continue writing this puppy. :) Thanks for reading.