Don't own anything affiliated with Starstruck or Disney.
So, I decided to turn the dial up a little bit. Yes, Jessica and Christopher may be a little bit out of character, but I'm exercising artistic license and just amping up their personalities. Is there profanity? Maybe...
He was trying to make his get away, subtly and quietly. The movie deal was on the line and he couldn't be seen as the hardcore partying type. So he threw on his glasses, put on a black fedora and slammed open the back door. He was not expecting to see a girl, maybe a few years younger than him, sprawled across the pavement. With blood on her head. And a glare directed right at him.
"Oh, my God. I am so sorry. You're bleeding. Shit. Are you okay? What kind of question is that - of course you're not okay. Um, okay. Look, I'm going to need you to come with me." He rambled on a little bit, kneeling down next to her as she simply held a hand to the spewing cut on her forehead.
She then took his outstretched hand and got up, groaning as she did. "You asshole."
"I'm sorry, really. Look, if you promise not to make a big deal out of this, I will make sure that you get front row tickets to the next concert. And I'll drive you to the hospital."
She watched as he waited in anticipation for a response. She could only ask, "Who are you?"
"Okay, I'm going to take off my shades, but you have to promise that you won't freak out."
She rolled her eyes, promised, and waited for him to peel the black shades away. When he did, she scoffed and refused to follow him to his car. "Oh, this is just great. Of course you're Christopher Wilde. I don't want to go anywhere with you. I'm just waiting for my sister."
"Oh, no. I must have hit you harder than I thought. Okay, hold on." He turned around and walked over to his best friend. "Look, I've got to take her to the hospital."
Stubby sighed in disappointment. "Do you even know her name?"
Chris paused and turned back to the bleeding girl. "Hey, what's your name?"
"It's Jessica, you jerk. And my sister's name is Sara Olson. And - and." She faltered, because she'd taken her hand away from her head. At the sight of the blood, she didn't scream or throw up. Instead, she swayed from side to side, before fainting into Christopher's award-winning catch.
"Oh, shit!" Stubby yelped. "Shit, shit, shit. Look, Chris. I'm your best friend and all, but I am not going down for involuntary manslaughter. Get her to the hospital, I'll find her sister and make sure she knows that her sister took a cab home."
Chris shifted the girl in his arms so that he was holding her bridal style. "Okay, okay. I can do this. Just help me get her into the car. I'll take her to Mercy and I'll see you later." He glanced once more to the somewhat grotesque cut and grimaced. "Shit, shit, shit."
Stubby helped his friend out and tossed him the keys. "Remember, Chris. No one can find out about her. Just take her to the hospital, get her home, but do not do anything else."
With the keys in hand, he just nodded, offering no verbal retort. Then he got into the driver seat, glanced at what looked a peaceful Jessica, and asked himself how he got into these kinds of situations.
"Jessica Olson, you'd better not die on me. The media would have a field day."
"Well, she doesn't have a concussion. You're going to have a nasty bump though, for the next week or so. Try not to aggravate the stitches, either." The doctor sat back as Chris waited next to a seated Jessica. "Now, I don't usually patch up minors and just send them on their way. We have protocol, you know. Parental consent forms? I don't think I can just let you go."
Chris sighed, agitated. "Look. She's fine. I can pay for the expense. Please, I can't stay here. I've got to get her home."
"And you don't think my parents are going to have question when they see the stitches on my head? Get real, Wilde."
The doctor watched as the tension between the two teens escalated. Clearing his throat, he gestured for Chris to take a seat as well. "Listen. I know you're a famous teenager and all, but this is standard procedure. Her parents need to come in. I'm sorry."
The pop star put his head in his hands and mumbled something incoherent, though it sounded like a muffled "fuck my life" to Jessica.
The fifteen year-old girl with a headache the size of Texas, however, seemed more on edge than Christopher. "My parents can't come to this hospital. They're in Hollywood right now and they've probably been drinking a few glasses of wine. They can't drive."
The doctor sighed. "I could get in a lot of trouble for letting you walk out of here." The two teens looked at each other, both angry with one another for dragging them into this situation. "But," the doctor continued, "I will make an exception just this once."
Chris breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you, doctor. Thank you so much."
"On the condition that I...well, my daughter's a really big fan of yours. Could I get your autograph? It would mean the world to Ella."
"Sure. No problem. You gotta pen?"
"You are unbelievable!"
"Oh, I am unbelievable? I just drove out of my way to get you to the hospital! I think a little thank you is in order, don't you?"
"No! I don't! You could have just let me find my sister. She could have taken me to the hospital just fine. I didn't need fucking Christopher Wilde to be my hero."
Chris and Jessica walked out of the hospital just ten minutes earlier, his cap and shades back on despite the blackness of night. Jessica had followed Chris in silence until she just couldn't hold her frustration in any longer. They arrived to "Reese" just in time for their third round of verbal kung fu of the night.
"What the hell is your problem? I didn't do anything to you!"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah. Right. Except for the massive cut on my head." She pointed dramatically to it as she waited for him to unlock the car doors.
"That was an accident, for the hundredth time. I told you I was sorry, I took you to the hospital, and I'm driving you to fucking Hollywood! Could you please, please stop being a mega-bitch for, like, two seconds?"
Jessica clenched her teeth. "Oh, so now I'm a mega-bitch, huh? You self-centered, egotistical, conceited jerk!"
"Just get in the damn car," he said as he opened his own door. "I'll take you home and we can just forget that you and I ever met."
"Fine."
"Fine."
Five minutes passed before Jessica's stomach started to rumble. Christopher smirked at her discomfort, before his started to do the same. He thought momentarily that maybe it was just hers, but then he really felt the ache in his stomach and realized that he hadn't eaten anything since early this morning.
He knew it before he even heard her stomach grumbling again that he was going to ask her if she wanted to stop somewhere.
Her reply wasn't quite what he was expecting. Maybe something along the lines of "shove it" or "take me home and don't talk to me" but not what she actually said.
"Yes, please."
He gave away a tiny hint of a smile. "Did you just say please sincerely?"
"Don't push me, pop star."
He grinned. He couldn't help himself. Maybe there was something more to this mega-bitch after all.
Yeah, so. I don't know if I'm going to continue. I got bored and DS wasn't around to start writing more of our co-written Starstruck fic so I just started writing. And it got kind of long so I decided to post it. If you like it and you want more, you can tell me. If not, the back button is a beautiful tool, ain't it?
Check pyrolyn-776 for DramaticStarlet's and my collab story, Brighter Than Sunshine.
Thanks for reading!