So I finally succumbed to this AU idea... yeah, I was reluctant at first, but I just had to write it down. This was mostly inspired by my love for bands, particularly punk rock bands, like 5 Seconds Of Summer and All Time Low. (I also love One Direction, but they're not rock). This fanfiction is kinda different than my usual writing forte, just fyi.
Rating: Between T and M for strong language and (possibly) drugs/alcohol later on. May change permanently to M for smut. It depends how I feel, and I'll need your [readers] opinion about it.
Notes: Characters are a bit OOC.
Disclaimer: I do not own Disney, Dreamworks, or the music by some of these bands.
Jack
When I was younger, I knew that I wanted to entertain people. I remember holding a guitar for the first time. To me, it was just a piece of carved wood with strings that made a sound every time I plucked at it, but to the music world, it was something far more extraordinary. I decided to give it a go, and that's when I discovered my knack for music, more specifically singing. Not only was my guitar playing great, but apparently I could sing pretty well too.
I could recall driving my parents crazy for singing or strumming at the guitar constantly, whether it was early in the morning or midnight. I even got kicked out of class for singing. That's when the idea hit me: I wanted to form a band. I've been influenced all my life by music legends and I wished to become just like them. I got my closest (and only) friends together and asked them if they would like to do it. These guys were just like me; they loved music – not to mention had the talent for playing musical instruments – and shared the same dream as me. At first they were reluctant, saying that we weren't good enough, but eventually it happened.
There was me, troublemaker Jack Frost, as the leader singer/ rhythm guitarist, heartthrob Eugene "Flynn" Fitzherbert as the bassist, nerd Hiccup Haddock as the lead guitarist, and gruff (yet lovable) Kristoff Bjorgman as the drummer. We were an odd bunch. No, really. We fought over video games and had countless prank wars that usually ended in someone being covered in strange guck (psst, it was always Hiccup). But we learned to get along and play like an actual band.
One day we were fooling around and decided to tape ourselves performing a cover of 1985 by Bowling for Soup, who were one of my favorite bands at that time. We posted it on Youtube, thinking that we wouldn't get much recognition, but actually we did, more than we expected. Sometime later, we were signed to a contract and listed as an official rock band. It was all thanks to Nicholas North, CEO of Blizzard Records. He had claimed to watch our video and liked our little performance. No, no, he loved it.
In fact, he enjoyed it so much that he contacted us and asked if we would like to become an official band. Of course we said yes. I thought, "Wow, he actually thinks we have the potential to thrive in the spotlight?'. But I was only joking. So far, we've sold millions of albums and singles (which have sky-rocketed up the music charts), gained thousands of fans (who are all amazing, by the way), and we have even performed across the globe. This has been an incredible twist of fate, but to me, this is just the beginning.
For now, we stand, united, as the one and only Zero Hero.
"Yes! Another one bites the dust!" Hiccup threw his arms up in the air and Flynn slumped in defeat, flinging his Xbox controller onto the couch. I chuckled under my breath while Kristoff just smiled. It's a casual Wednesday and the four of us have been hanging out, playing video games and scarfing down junk food. The past few weeks have consisted of non-stop traveling, practices, and the occasional interview. As much as I love being in Zero Hero and creating music for all of our awesome fans, the fame can be exhausting, especially the paparazzi. God, they can be so annoying.
"Not fair, dude." Flynn said. "You used your mech suit against me."
"Sucks to suck." Hiccup stuck out his tongue and reached for the bag of cheetos at his feet. "Do you guys wanna play?" He asked to me and Kristoff.
"Nah, I'm fine." I responded and Kristoff shook his head.
"Come on, Haddock, let's go for round two." Flynn snatched up the controller and gave Hiccup a smug grin, his eyes gleaming with prowess.
"Aw, does Flynny want his ass kicked again?"
"Fuck you."
And just like that, the television screen exploded into a collage of blazing guns and spurting blood. Hiccup and Flynn were known to bicker with each other. Hell, we all did. But those two were always at it. A hot topic for them to argue about was video games, and then women were also popular. But here's the catch: none of us have a girlfriend. Total shocker, right? Yeah, not really.
You would expect famous people like us to be surrounded by girls, which is true for the most part (it's usually our fans). Don't get me wrong, I would totally date a fan. Actually, that would be a major bonus, but we just don't have the time to date. Now I don't plan to be single forever. I picture myself, in the near future, settling down with a nice girl; maybe we'll have a few children… I dunno. As I would like to say, only time will tell.
Suddenly the door to the room swung open to reveal a rather pissed-off looking Bunny on the other side. Not even a knock. What a great guy. Ah, this is where I introduce him, yes? Well, this is Aster Bunnymund, or as we would like to call him, Bunny. He's both our musical and physical coach, which means he has us practice our music for shows and trains us to be in tip-top shape. He's a 6'1, Australian man with a nasty temper. Word of advice? Don't anger him. The four of us break that rule all of the time, though.
"What the blood hell are you doing?" Bunny demanded curtly.
"Oh hey, Bunny!" Flynn called out without looking away from the TV. "We're just having some downtime."
Our coach groaned as he face-palmed. "Do you really think you have time for that?"
"Aw, yeah! Take that, asshole!" Flynn cried, leaping up in excitement as he won the match. Hiccup's character was reduced down to a bloody corpse with a bullet through the brain. But Bunny wasn't going to put up with our shit, no, not today.
"Shut it, Fitzherbert!" he snapped, glaring at the brunet. "Now… before you guys anger me even more to the point of strangling you, I must remind you: the world tour kicks off in less than a month, right?" He looked at us intensely, expecting a response of some kind. We all nodded, except for Flynn, who was staring off into space. When he didn't react in the following few seconds, Bunny's eye twitched, a tick that only occurred when he was teetering off the edge of becoming full-blown pissed.
I braced myself for his scolding by sinking deeper into the cushions, clutching a pillow against my chest. However, it never came, but Bunny did throw the closest object at Flynn, which happened to be a half-drunk can of root beer.
"What – what?" Flynn snapped back to reality. "Y-yes, sir!" He saluted as if he was standing in the presence an army sergeant. Well, Bunny wasn't too different from one. Oh, a completely random topic on the contrary, but did I mention that the band's going on a world tour? Yep, all six (not including Antarctica) continents in the span of three months for the upcoming summer. We'll be constantly on the road or flying in private jets, and it will be tough, but I'm sure we can handle it. It's called the Maverick Tour, named after our third studio album which was released last year prior to Christmas.
"Good," Bunny nodded. "Go get ready; we'll begin practice in an hour. See ya." He promptly turned around and exited the room, leaving us to bask in the disappointment of our ruined fun-time.
"Well, we better do what the man says," Hiccup said.
"Obviously." Flynn muttered as he stood up and stretched.
I left the other guys and went straight to the washroom, where I quickly showered since I felt awfully grimy. Once finished, I slipped on dark sweatpants, sneakers, and a plain white t-shirt. It was only music practice, so we could dress as bum-ish as we wanted to. I combed my damp, bleached hair back and attempted to make myself look somewhat decent.
To tell you the truth, I'm a natural brunet. Yeah, that's right, I have brown hair, but my hair was magically dyed silvery-white. Don't look at me; I was young (like four) and my mom considered it to be cool. As I grew older, the color really began to fit in, especially with my rock star occupation at the moment. The guys thought it was silly at first, but they got used to it.
I made my way out and towards the practice room. It was only down the hall and to the left, next to a vending machine which was very convenient. I went inside to find my three bandmates already there, adjusting their instruments. At least Hiccup and Flynn were with their guitars; Kristoff was just sitting at his drum set, mindlessly tapping a drum stick against one of the cymbals. Bunny was there too, scribbling down onto his clipboard.
"Oh, good. You're here, Jack." Bunny said, placing his clipboard atop a nearby table. "Before we start, have you guys memorized the album's playlist?" We all grumbled 'yes' and 'uh-huh'.
The Maverick album consisted of twelves songs, all written by the four of us, but with help from fellow song-writers. Yep, every chord, note, and lyric was created by us. It was definitely hard work, but all paid off in the end. Here's the playlist:
Maverick
Shameless
Voodoo Doll
American Idiot
Rejects
The Phoenix
Break Your Little Heart
End Up Here
Somebody Told Me
English Love Affair
Riot
Try Hard
Backseat Serenade
"Okay," Bunny clapped his hands to get our attention. "I want you to start off with Shameless." We nodded our obedience and as the others got into position, I was making my way to retrieve my guitar. "Come on, Jackson! We don't have all day." Bunny called to me with impatience etched into his deep, Australian voice.
"Alright! I'm coming." I picked up the glossy, dark blue guitar and slung it over my shoulders, the pick in between my fingers. That was the queue for the song to begin and Hiccup played his short solo, with Kristoff providing soft cymbal crashes. I approached the microphone stand, hands posed to start playing as the lyrics rolled off my tongue.
Hips sway and lips lie
Like clock-work, she's in control
Of all the right guys
And I'm still waiting
"Cut, cut!" Bunny shouted, immediately stopping our performance.
"What?" I complained into the microphone.
"Jack, you sounded a bit… hoarse. Maybe you should go drink something really quickly." I groaned softly before scurrying off to the table where a cooler was. "And Flynn, you forgot your chord." He criticized the bassist, who shot back with a 'really?' I reached inside and picked out a can of Dr. Pepper. Soda wasn't entirely great for loosening the vocal chords, but it was something. Tea or another hot drink was preferable for that. I took a long gulp and then set it back down, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
I returned to my spot and said, "Shall we continue?"
"Actually, no," Bunny held up a finger. "Do the chorus of English Love Affair."
"Oh yeah." Flynn said victoriously, and I rolled my eyes. Of course he would say something; he wrote the song, sexual innuendos and all. Well, it was catchy, I'll give him that.
I started counting down, fingers set in place. "1, 2 – 1, 2, 3, 4."
When the lights go out,
She's all I ever think about
The picture burning in my brain,
Kissing in the rain
I can't forget my English Love Affair
Today, I'm seven thousand miles away
The movie playin' in my head
Of her king-sized bed
Means I can't forget my
English Love Affair
"Stop, cut!" Bunny interrupted again with his hands waving up and down. Damn, here we go again.
After nearly four hours of practicing and rehearsing all songs, Bunny sent us to our rooms for the night. Oh, might I add that we start physical training tomorrow? Early in the morning, too. It's like freaking boot-camp. I lumbered to my room with the other guys behind me. We were all quiet which was no surprise; Bunny really drilled us hard with the musical practice. The four of us entered our huge bedroom (yes, we all sleep in one room, but with separate bunks, of course).
I crashed atop my bed and pulled the covers over me, not bothering to freshen up for the sake of exhaustion. Even with the bright lights above and the combined voices of Flynn, Hiccup, and Kristoff, I drifted off into a dreamless sleep with no trouble at all.
If anyone is wondering, here are the original bands who own the songs in the playlist:
Shameless, Break Your Little Heart, Backseat Serenade - All Time Low
Voodoo Doll, Rejects, End Up Here, English Love Affair, Try Hard - 5 Seconds Of Summer
American Idiot - Green Day
The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy
Somebody Told Me - The Killers
Riot - Three Days Grace