A/N hello everyone! Jennifable here, with my second ever story! Whoo! *awkward silence, complete with crickets and tumbleweed*
Anyway, it has been almost two years since I last posted a story on FanFiction, for Sonny With a Chance too. I'm not always logged in, but I've been hooked on the SWAC FF site for years now, and although its understandable that people are going to grow out of Disney, I've noticed a pretty rapid decline in stories *sob* so I thought I'd stop being lazy and write some myself;)

Thank you to everyone who is still writing though, at least there's still a few of you out there keeping it all alive! I promise I'll review more...if you review mine;)

This is in Sonny's POV, really hope you enjoy!

"Skinny chocolate mocha latte, hold the whipped cream for me!"

"Ooh, and I'll have a caramel maccchiato! But can you ask them not to put caramel in it? I don't like caramel."

"Why don't you just get a normal macchiato then, moron?"

"It's just not the same, Z! It's not the same! Besides, don't tell me about getting normal things, you little freak!"

"Hey, just because I get decaf espressos doesn't make me a freak, Nico-"

"Does anyone know if they still do the praline mochas they brought out for the holiday season? I know its July, but hey, seven month rule-"

"Grady! We've been over this, they're called seasonal for a reason! Now if you were to get a skinny chocolate mocha latte with no whipped cream like me every now and again, Tawni Hart's extreme skinny jeans might actually fit you!"

"...but I d-"

"Without using a butt horn! Well Sonny? Are you going to go on the Starbucks run or not? We're all super thirsty, delaying us all is just plain rude. Some of us have lives to get back to, you know!"

Wednesday meant one thing. Well, two things really: one, it's Hump day: halfway through the week, and only two days away from the weekend. Two, it's Starbucks Day. Which meant one of us had to walk two blocks to get some overly priced steamed coffee bean juice. Which usually meant a weekly walk for me.

As I walked away from my fellow Randoms - who had (thankfully) moved off the topic of butt horns - and down the corridor, I couldn't help but take notice of the McKenzie Falls poster outside Stage Two. No honestly, I couldn't; I'm not just saying that because it was a picture of Chad, I swear! McKenzie's flawless visage was now decorated with a Harry Potter theme, complete with glasses, a scar and very untidy hair. I'd only seen such skilful vandalism once before - on mine and Chad's second first date, when the other Randoms decided to "redecorate" Chad's billboard. I'd have to congratulate them or something when I got back, this was just too good. Subconsciously smiling at the memory –

"Oh yes, Munroe. It's absolutely hilarious."

The sarcastic tone. The last name basis. The sheer bluntness. Of course it was –

"Chad," I spat, "What are you doing here?"

"About to do this really interesting thing called working? I'm not too sure if you'll have heard about it over at Chuckle City, because it's what most decent actors do. Which, evidently, you are not. By the way, I should be asking what you're doing here, seeing as you're stood outside my set."

Normally I'd conjure up a witty side remark, but frankly, I wasn't in the mood. Even though bickering with Chad used to be part of my daily routine, heck, it was the highlight of my day, bickering just wasn't the same after we broke up. Mainly because it made me realise that I actually really miss the arrogant toerag. And I hated that.

"Err, I have to go-"

"Oh? And Where are exactly are you off to, Munroe?" This inquisitive tone was new; normally he couldn't care less.

"Starbucks. You know, it's Wednesday."

"Oh right, of course. And how exactly are you planning on getting there?"

"This really interesting thing called walking? I'm not too sure if you'll have heard about it over at your little soap opera -"

"Award winning tween drama, Sonny -"

"Because it's what most people do to go five blocks. Which evidently you don't, seeing as you live five blocks away and still decide to drive to work every day."

"Really original comeback there. Really, you've outdone yourself. Anyway, enjoy the walk, although you might want to rethink that outfit of yours," he frowned, pointing at my vest top and shorts.

Was I missing something? Had I spilled food on it? I looked down quickly; of course there was nothing there, I hadn't eaten in hours! He was just doing this to be a jerk. I wasn't going to let him annoy me.

"You know what? I don't care that you don't like my outfit. In fact, I just don't care anymore what your opinion is! Just because you don't like what I wear doesn't mean I shouldn't wear them."

"Hang on just a sec-

"No, let me finish! It would be nice for you to, I don't know, not insult me in some shape or form on a daily basis! All you ever do is set out to hurt my feelings, and I'm just not bothered anymore. Now, if you'll excuse -"

"Honestly, you think I'm saying this because I just don't like what you're wearing?" Chad sighed.

"Well, why else would you say that?"

"Because – you know what, fine, suit yourself. Have a fun walk Munroe."

"Fine, I will!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Good!"

"Good!"

It's funny – sorry, no, 'interesting' might be a more appropriate word – how someone can make you so aggravated in such a short period of time. I stormed down the corridor, out of the nearest exit and into the parking lot. I was still fuming halfway through my walk when I eventually realised why I was feeling so cold (It's meant to be California, what was going on?). Of course it had been raining for the last 10 minutes. Of course I had ignored the fact my vest top and shorts ensemble was completely soaked through. And of course it would be pointless to walk all the way back to the studio to change my outfit when I'd walked this far already.

Damn that Cooper. He'd just been outside when I saw him and he didn't even feel like tell me there was a freaking rainstorm going on.

So instead of turning back and losing all dignity I had left (which wasn't very much anyway), I continued my walk in the rain. Even though I'm pretty sure Alaskans in winter couldn't feel half as cold as I was right then.

Walking almost a kilometer and trying to balance six drinks on a carry tray for four, in torrential rain, whilst on the verge of hypothermia is no picnic. Walking almost a kilometer and trying to balance six drinks on a carry tray for four, in torrential rain, whilst on the verge of hypothermia and simultaneously wanting to kill your ex (metaphorically speaking) is far worse by a long shot. Trust me, I can tell you that from experience.

So it's completely understandable that I cheered out loud when I saw I'd made it back to the studio's parking lot in one piece. Carrying some now lukewarm coffees, I was sure this is what Moses must have felt like when he finally reached the Promised Land. Or something of that nature anyway.

I could just imagine the Randoms sprawled across various places in the Prop House waiting for me; Zora, of course would be in her sarcophagus or lurking in the vents, and Tawni would be franticly filing her nails, along with the occasional "How LONG does it take?". As for Nico and Grady, they would be in one of two places: On the couch, playing the latest video game, or lying on the floor at opposite ends of the Prop House, "bored" of each other again –

"BEEP!"

The long, piercing drone of a car horn woke me up from my daydream. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. I was in the middle of the lane and a car was hurtling towards me. It looked like it had changed direction last minute though to avoid hitting me. Despite this, I was falling down to the ground anyway; in shock, in numbness, from the nearness of the car, I don't know.

The car was still moving – it was a sports car, I realised. A very familiar sports car. The horn's drone had been replaced by a high pitched screech of frantic brakes, but even that didn't seem to stop the car from hitting one of the parked cars nearby with an almighty bang.

Then, everything was quiet.

I really wanted to move. Preferably into the building, where it was warm and there was a smaller chance of being killed by fast-moving sports cars.

Why couldn't I move? I didn't get hit, I was blatantly alive!

"Just get up!" I told myself. Luckily, my body obeyed.

The empty drinks cups were rolling around on the floor a few feet away, and there was a bizarre scent of coffee and diesel in the air. The sports car itself wasn't as wrecked as I thought it would be: just the occasional dent and scratch. It was a different story for the parked car that had been hit though; the bumper looked like it was hanging on by a piece of string and the trunk was a mangled piece of metal. I didn't know whether it was terrifying or a relief to know that could have been me.

I think there was movement behind me, but I wasn't sure. I wasn't very sure about anything anymore. My legs felt like they would give way any second, so I thought it would be wise to sit down again. I didn't have a chance though, because a very aggressive hand had whipped me around.

"What were you thinking, Munroe? What the hell were you thinking? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

I didn't even need to look at his face to know who I was talking to. Chad's normally perfectly chiselled features had been twisted into a severe frown but his hair, of course was still perfect; it must have been the first thing he checked and fixed after the crash.

Chad's sudden appearance... the crash... almost being hit...

It all clicked. It was him in the car! That's why it looked was so familiar. He was still talking, but I had zoned out ages ago. I glanced at the car again, and the evidence was there on the personalized plate: CDC1. Boy was I slow today.

"You're such an idiot Munroe. What kind of fool would walk in the middle of the road anyway? You might as well have a sign on your back saying 'Hey, run me over!' Really, it's a good thing I was here. Actually, it's always a good thing if I'm near, but –"

No. He could get away with saying everything else, but he could not take credit for not killing me.

"Oh, shut up Chad!" I suddenly exploded. I felt like I was on fire, but the rain was doing nothing to cool me down. "If you weren't here, none of this would have happened! I'd have carried on walking - with my drinks still intact! Now look at them!" The empty cups rolled around at our feet, almost making a point in agreement. "I'd be in the studio and at stage three by now! Without ever having to stop and talk to you!"

"Oh right, because this is my fault," Chad spat. "It never has anything to do with America's perfect little good girl, does it?"

"Hey, you were the one driving at a hundred miles an hour in a parking lot!" that might be a slight exaggeration, but there was no way I was letting Chad win this one. "I'm sure that makes you at fault here, Cooper."

He didn't respond. He just stood there, in the pouring rain, his eyes twinkling with a resentment I hadn't properly seen since my first few weeks in Hollywood. Then he was shaking his head and a short, sarcastic laugh escaped him.

I took this as my cue to walk away while I was winning.

The doors to the studio were only meters away when Chad replied, shouting across the parking lot.

"You know, you're a real bitch sometimes Munroe. I've just saved your freaking life, and you've not even thanked me yet."

Something had just changed. It wasn't just a pathetic little dispute anymore. From anyone else, it would be a hurtful comment that I'd brush off. From Chad, it was like a million needles had just stabbed me right in the heart. And the worst part is, what he was saying was absolutely true.

But he could never know that.

"Why are you so desperate for me to thank you anyway? You didn't do much," I shouted back into the parking lot.

"Call me unreasonable but I just thought it was courteous to say thank you. I might be wrong though. I just thought, because I genuinely care whether you live or not, you mught be greatful. It wouldn't be too great if you weren't around anymore."

"You're lying to me," I snapped, walking towards him again. "You couldn't care less what happens to me. No, what's the real reason you're so keen?" it didn't me take long to think of the most likely reason. "It's all for the good publicity, isn't it? I can see it now: 'Bad Boy Chad Dylan Cooper Turns Hero'. Well, props to you, it would make a very good story."

Silence. I shouted louder.

"Don't tell me you care, Chad, because you don't. All you ever do to me is insult me and make me feel like crap! I mean, you couldn't even tell me it was raining when you saw me before! And now, look at me! I'm a wet, cold mess because you didn't care enough to tell me what the freaking weather was like!" Tears were leaking out from the corners of my eyes, and I could feel myself struggling to shout with a lump in my throat. "If you can't do that, how you say that you care about me? How can you?"

My voice had gotten so weak, I wasn't sure if he could still hear me or not.

Then, finally, "This is ridiculous. You don't know what you're saying." With a sigh, Chad had turned on his heel and started walking away again.

"You know, I bet you wouldn't even care if I dropped dead right here, right now, because you don't give a damn about me, Chad! You never have!"

Even though his outline was blurred in the rain, I could tell he'd stopped walking. His hands were balled up in fists and he seemed to be silently deliberating whether to carry on walking away or confront me again. When he finally turned to face me, a mixture of disbelief, bitterness and fire were burning in his already darkened eyes; and if eyes really are the window to the soul, it was now pretty clear that Chad was far beyond pissed off. Before I knew it, we were face to face.

"Don't," he started, "Don't you dare tell me that I don't give a damn about you."

He was speaking in such a low voice I could barely hear him.

"Let me refresh your memory. I helped you up when you supposedly twisted your ankle on the first day we met, and I didn't even know you then. I dressed up as Eric. I got you that audition, danced with you at that stupid prom, countless fake dates, all for you Sonny! And I wouldn't ever do that for anyone else!

"If I never cared, why would I go to such lengths to try and get our first date so perfect? Why would I have got a stunt double in the first place? Why did I even consider ordering that freaking recount? I wanted to make you happy, because I loved you. And it doesn't take a genius to know that I still do! So don't you even try to tell me that I don't care, because you mean more to me than anyone else!"

I was shaking now; it could have been the cold or because I was crying, maybe both, but Chad being so close and saying all these things made me feel dizzy. Of course I was still completely in love with him, I'd always known that. Knowing he loved me too just made me feel faint.

I couldn't risk getting lost in those eyes of his; he saw that I couldn't look at him anymore, so he lifted my chin up to look at me properly. With makeup smears, wet hair and a red nose, there was no point denying I looked horrific, but he didn't flinch. His arms were pulling me into an embrace I couldn't refuse.

"You were the one who ended it between us, not me." his voice was gentle again, his eyes softer. "That didn't mean that I'd stop looking out for you. Hence, why I decided against killing you half an hour ago," he said, with a teasing glint in his one sparkly eye.

Unsurprisingly, it was true; he was always there in some shape or form for me. Plus, it would explain the whole weather saga earlier today.

Hang on, no it didn't!

"Not entirely," I croaked, pulling away slightly, "you didn't exactly give me a heads up about the weather this morning!"

"What, you thought I was insulting your outfit for the fun of it? I didn't tell you to rethink what you were wearing for no reason. Please, Sonny, if I did want to make fun of what you were wearing, I'd use far more sarcasm and wit than I did. You know sarcasm is my speciality, why wouldn't I use my talent?" he winked, with a grin I'd missed seeing. "Besides, I don't think I'll ever need to insult you on what you look like. You'd look beautiful in a garbage bag."

Damn that Chad Dylan Cooper. I swear he was the only person on Earth who I hated so much and loved immensely at the same time. I couldn't help it: one minute I was gazing at him, and in the next minute I had pulled his tie down and crashed my lips to his. Chad responded immediately, his hands snaking around my waist and pulling me closer, until I was fully pressed up against him. My hands went to his hair, damp from the rain. Tawni had no idea what she was talking about when she said we had no spark – there was enough electricity to light New York's skyline at night. Neither of us seemed too eager to break the kiss – not that that was necessarily a bad thing.

It wasn't until we heard a collection of impatient coughs coming from the studio doors somewhere behind us that we broke apart. In the doorway, all four remaining Randoms were stood watching us, open mouthed, with unimpressed looks of disgust on their faces. In the wind, a couple of the empty coffee cups rolled past their feet.

"So," Tawni began, "I'm guessing we're not having Starbucks this week?"

A/N Fin! I don't know what you made of it, but whatever you thought, please review review review! It would honestly mean the world to me. Even if you stumble across this in the year 2042 and think "It's pointless to review, she's not going to look back anyway," I will do, so don't be shy! Thanks again for reading!:)

By the way, are there any Potterheads out there? I threw in a teeny little reference, don't know if you saw it or not... if you did, tell me in a review!;)