Author's note: I know I have two other stories but Without You I plan to end in two chapters and Summer Camp I know exactly where I'm going with it. Plus I just graduated college and I have a summer to relax before real life sets in so I'm trying to have a creative outlet. Enjoy.

Background: Tom Quincy is a successful solo artist at the age of 24. He was never in Boyz Attack and never a producer. Jude Harrison is 18 and just graduated high-school. She has no recording contract and plans on touring as a roadie with her best friends SME. Well didn't you know? SME is Tom Quincy's opening act. Chapters go back and forth between Tommy and Jude's POV.

Chapter One: Pretentious Prince Charming

I'm starting to wonder why I have made such a decision to tour with the three biggest children I know. If I didn't know any better these boys just graduated from Middle School and Kyle is still late on his Bar Mitzvah. It doesn't help that the ever so arrogant Tom Quincy, whom they were unfortunate to tour with, has his own very nice and very air conditioned tour bus while we are stuck in a camper circa 1985. Although rock music was in its prime during that era, the masters behind comfort and luxury hadn't set into mobile homes quite yet. Actually the only reason this opportunity is so unfortunate is because Tom is the most pretentious egotistical drunk I have ever-

"Oh hey Tom." Fuck, I think he might have caught me staring at him. Great; if his ego isn't already through the roof.

"Jude, right?" You know my name.

"You know my name Tom," I scowl. He spent the first night of tour staring at my ass and drunk slurring to Wally how he would 'fuck the shit out of me' if I didn't dress like a 90s male; so yes he knows my name.

Who is Tom Quincy? He's an amazing solo artist; I will admit defeat. His music speaks miles to me and when this opportunity first came about I imagined late nights on the bus questioning his love for music. Boy was I wrong.

"Right. Who could forget the girl who thinks she's Kurt Cobain's reincarnate." The things I would do to wipe that smug look from his face. Ripped jeans, converse, and grunge T shirts really aren't all that bad of an attire. Especially when you aren't made of money like the prick in front of me.

"Very funny," I reply with sarcasm digging in each syllable. I thought his music about mystery, love, and the open road would reflect on him and he would be some wise free spirit that I could learn from; grow from. I hoped for musical advice and jam sessions, but all I've seen was how fast he can down Jack Daniels and get a woman out of her pants. "The shows over, don't you have groupies to attend to?"

"What? You're not one of them?" He is actually everything I hate in a person; I wish I didn't respect his music so god damn much or I would've given him a swift kick to the dick a long time ago.

"What's your deal?" I questioned while resting against the brick of the theater's out back smoking area; of course he had a cigarette in his mouth. He's giving me a confused look, he has no clue what I'm talking about; typical. "I've been on tour with you guys for a few weeks now. You definitely know who I am and you treat me like shit. The first night you were somewhat nice to me and that's just because you wanted to fuck me, but now I'm like a piece of trash."

"I did fuck you." I guess I should have mentioned that. I gave in the first night due to the fact that my idea of what he could be like behind his music was still glued into my head. We were all drunk and I thought his awful comments about my taste in clothing were a way of flirting; much like in the school days where being mean was a way of admiration and showing affection.

"I'm trying to forget," which I really am. I dug myself into a hole by allowing him to deflower me. Right, should have mentioned that too. Yes, the famous Tom Quincy, took my virginity, but does he know that? No. I'm very good at dealing with pain and putting on a brave face.

"And that's exactly why I act the way I do," he remarked throwing his cigarette butt to the ground. What's that supposed to mean? "You were so chill the first night. I made a lot of jokes at your expense, but you took it so well. You were tough and witty and oddly attractive. I never had a woman like you before so I went for it. But after you changed, and not in anyway I expected."

"Don't act like I became a lost puppy who followed you around and doted on you constantly!" I shouted back.

Tom shook his head as he clenched his fist, "Oh I know. You did the exact opposite. We woke up in the morning and you hated me and yourself even more."

"That's because I could finally comprehend what a douche bag you were after I sobered and it set in how quickly I just gave myself to you." When I woke up that morning a bunch of images and flash videos of how he got me into bed played across my head and I felt so entirely stupid. I shut him out immediately and it didn't help that when I went to explain myself later that night he was already inside of another nameless girl.

"I much rather a lost puppy than a girl who hates my guts because I fucked her good." He has no idea what a fucking dick head he is.

"I'm not your groupie Tom, and I wasn't the night we had sex either. I hate your guts because you just assumed I was one of those dumb bimbos you plow through every night. I hate your guts because I gave my virginity to you when you made it so clear that night that I would be nothing to you." It's true, with the help of a sobering state and Spiederman effectively filling me in I knew exactly how he treated me. I was an idiot for sleeping with him; blame it on the booze and how starstruck I was that he said he would sleep with me. Now he's just staring at me wide eyed in shock, what did I say?

Oh my god.

I said the word virginity.

I guess before this situation furthers though, you need to understand the night I slept with Tom Quincy; as told you to by Spiederman.

"You were completely shit faced Harrison. Like even more black out than the night you tried eating grass screaming that you were craving a salad. You were trying to vibe with Tom all night about his music, which was a riot by the way, but all he wanted to vibe with you about was your tits in that gray V-Neck. He eventually gave in to your drunk demands to play a song with you and by this time he was belligerent and blew some coke so I'd say his prime game was that very moment. He sang you some random love song made up on the spot about you, well apparently, and then yous fucked. Now I should mention though the song was the only nice thing he did all night. He kept calling you a boy and emo or a groupie. And right before you guys went to do the sex he looked at you and said something about how he knew you were a groupie and he couldn't wait to see his cock in your mouth. Wally almost choked on his hotdog at the dirty talk Quincy was spitting and Kyle tried to tell you it was a bad idea, but you were blinded by the expensive booze and pretty voice too much to realize what he was really saying. It was a totally fucked situation dude, but now you have a cool story and that's exactly what this whole tour is about in the first place, right!"

See my first time was not romantic at all, and when I woke up the next morning there was a ringing in my head of Tom's voice calling me a groupie. Speaking of Quincy, he's still just standing there. "This is about the virginity thing right? Uh, just forget I even mentioned it." I went to turn to away as fast as possible but I felt his touch wrap around my wrist. I was yanked back so quickly there was no running away from what I just said.

"I was your first?" All I can offer is a silly little nod, I really didn't plan on telling him. "I mean I knew it was tight, it felt, oh it fucking felt amazing." Is it wrong that I cringe and smile all at once watching his face reflect on our sex and how his eyes slightly roll back? "But you really let me take that from you? Just like that? I was just being such a dick because I thought chicks were into that, especially the dark ones, I figured they loved the degrading shit."

Am I supposed to take that as an explanation for all the hurtful things he said that night? Am I supposed to feel better after that, because I don't. "Just because I dress like this doesn't mean I'm some twisted bitch. Uh, but that's besides the point. Yes, you were my first and I feel completely fucking stupid because I just gave myself away to the biggest pretentious egotistical drunk in the world all the while he was putting me down. How could I be so fucking stupid?" Please don't say the burn behind my eyes is tears, "I was so infatuated with who I thought you were that I couldn't see the monster in front of me until it was too late and I was sober and naked in your bed."

"Hold up, who you thought I was?" Way to only pick up on a few of my words; prick.

"I thought that your music meant something. I thought you were going to be this musical god filled with wisdom. I don't know, I thought you'd be deeper than the whole sex, drugs, and rock and roll lifestyle." Sadly his beauty appears to be just skin deep.

"I am fucking deeper than that. You just didn't take the time to dig, you were too busy throwing your panties off followed by a shit ton of assumptions." He was basically yelling in my face while trying to remain somewhat quiet so that the loaders of the tour bus wouldn't pay too much attention. I even see SME trying to peak their heads around the corner.

"Oh sorry for just throwing my panties," I bite back. I tell him he was my first and he basically tells me I'm easy? Fuck him, "Fuck you Tom Quincy. Fuck you. I don't want to 'dig' and I don't want to know any more about you. All I needed to see was you fucking another girl 12 hours later to know when I woke up my thoughts on you were exactly right."

I went to walk away again, but this time he grabbed my hand tightly and drug me further into the alley so the crowd couldn't hear us or see us. "If I would've known more about you Jude, I wouldn't of acted the way I did. But I thought you understood my life, I didn't know what I was taking from you. The way you wouldn't look or talk to me the next day didn't give me much of a hint that you were interested in anything more than a night. So I did what I always do, find a groupie. I'm a man with needs a lot of women want to fulfill, sorry for that and sorry you walked in on it but I didn't sign up to be your musical prince charming."

"I didn't sign up to lose my virginity to you. I didn't come on tour to make you fall in love with me or something Tommy. I came for the experience and like I said meeting you used to be a plus in my mind." I guess I'm kind of understanding where he is coming from. I didn't put my situation out there and how could I have expected him to change his after performance routine over a one night stand that I wasn't even proud of? I'm really justifying him right now, but fuck it makes so much sense. "Look can we just let it go; move on from that night and be civil?"

His hand brushed across my elbow and he loosely held it with this breathtaking smile. Why'd he have to be so handsome? Why'd his touch have to be so electric? "Well I was hoping for a round two, but if that's what you want."

I bit my lip nervously, he wanted me again? I shouldn't even be considering it, I know he has a way with words.

He's a musician, a lyricist, they were born to make women swoon.

"Stop," Too bad I said that more playfully than being stern.

"I'm sorry for the way I've been treating you. Like I said I kinda figured you were in for the banter and meanness, especially considering the one hell of a cold shoulder you're always giving me." We both shared a laugh, it's crazy how all my hatred for him kind of dissipated. "I'm still gonna pick on you, you're on tour with a bunch guys." There I go biting my lip again as his hand rustles through my hair, "But I'll tell you this now so you don't forget and think I'm this hateful dick all the time; you are actually really cute Harrison and I would never take back fucking you. It completely makes sense now why you far surpassed all the groupies when it comes to the bedroom chemistry."

Bedroom chemistry? Is he saying there's a spark there? Knock those thoughts Harrison, this isn't time for letting a crush develop. "I guess, thanks," was all I could really manage to say and it was so shy. I think by the way he's smiling at me he knows how nervous he just made me.

"How didn't I see it that night? Your eyes tell it all. I guess I was too drunk, if I would've stared into those blue orbs that night like I am now it would've been a whole different ball game." I swear I hear sincerity, but I am reminded he wants to fuck me again; he could be pulling out all sorts of tricks to make that happen.

"We already had sex Quincy, save your charm for the fan girls." I laugh off his comment so it doesn't sink further into me. We begin to walk towards the buses away from the alley. We can hear everyone hollering it's time to head for the hotels and as we arrive directly in front of his bus and the trailer he looks at me with this weird shimmer in his eyes that I can't place.

"No groupies or fan girls tonight." That's all he said before walking off into his lavish tour bus and I'm stuck staring dumbfounded.

Abruptly pulled from my thoughts I hear Spiederman beside me, "What was that all about?"

"No clue."