Okay, I suddenly got this idea out of nowhere. Came to me when I was watching TV. I think. Whatever. I wrote it 'cause I had writer's block on everything else. Or I didn't feel like writing anything else. Actually, this is kinda crappy towards the end 'cause I didn't feel like writing it. But I wanted to get it out... There'll be more parts, I'm sure.
Anyhow, this chapter takes place in the fall (the rest take place in the winter). It's a future fic, if you can't tell. So Casey is 24, Derek is 25, George and Nora are of indeterminate but still old ages, Lizzie is 18, Edwin is 19, and Marti is 15 (Yikes!). So, basically, nine years have passed since the show (I'm assuming Casey was 15, Derek 16, Marti 6, Edwin 10, and Lizzie 9...). Casey and Derek are living on their own, separate from each other. Casey calls her mom every week, however. Edwin is at college, Lizzie's a senior in high school, and Marti's a sophomore. Everyone goes home for the holidays... Interesting, no?
I don't own anything that has to do with Life With Derek. That means no Derek, no Casey, no Marti, no Edwin, no Lizzie, no Nora, no George, no Abby (George's ex-wife... Dunno why I mentioned her)... Blah, blah, blah, you get the drift. I do own Casey's friends, however...
I couldn't believe I was here of all places... at a party. What on Earth was I doing here? I glanced around the place, surveying the scene. I really didn't belong here. This place had fast lifestyle and bad decisions written all over it. My friend, Jordan, had invited me. I was new to L.A.
She said it would be fun. I'd get to meet new people, maybe even snag a boyfriend. A friend of a friend was throwing the party. All of LA's hottest and youngest would be there. It was, and I quote, "totally trendy". She didn't tell me she ran with such a sophisticated bunch.
They're all party animals. I have seriously never seen a bar that size in my life. Or, for that matter, a house this size. Some guy's mansion, out in the country a bit, by the beach, away from the city. I didn't see Jordan anywhere, but I did see about a million major and minor celebrities. They were a glittering bunch and I felt like a drab wimp next to them.
Not that I wasn't wildly successful myself or anything. I was doing pretty well here. I just didn't tend to socialize much. Tonight, however, I was dressed to kill. My version of dressed to kill was noticeably cheaper than everyone else's in the room. A black leather miniskirt, four-inch black stilettos, a semi-transparent red lace tank-top, and a shiny black leather jacket that I've had since high school. Actually, I think I stole it from Derek when I was packing for college... whatever.
And, taking my friend Jane's advice (she's a fashion journalist), I parted my hair down the middle and curled it at the ends... I even put on the make-up she told me to wear. I look great, just like she said I would. Any man would be lucky to have me.
Well, I suppose I might as well just dive on in. Which happens to require moving. I sighed, still glancing around nervously, and took off my jacket. I placed my purse in it, wrapping my jacket around it, and placing it in the designated room. I took a deep breath, fiddling with my hair nervously, before heading straight to the bar. Right now a drink sounded awfully nice.
I ordered one from the bartender. A martini, complete with a fancy crystal class and a green olive speared by a toothpick. Yeah, classy, I know. It was unbearably loud in here, I thought, grimacing. I took a sip from my drink and pondered just where to go. I'd come to the party all right, but somehow, I only found myself wanting to be alone. Suddenly, there it was. My escape.
It was a door, and, upon closer inspection, it led to the balcony. I slid out of the room and unto the balcony stealthily. Oh, good, there's a bench. I sat on it, sipping my drink and leaning backwards a little. My heart flip-flopped when my hand touched something warm. I turned around immediately to see the back of a guy (I had a sneaking suspicion he was cute). There was something about the way he dressed. He was wearing a leather jacket and jeans, but I could tell they were the fancy, expensive kind. He had young, hot, rich, and famous written all over him.
Then I glanced down at his hand. I flexed my fingers and he placed his hand over mine. He still didn't look at me, so I turned away, feeling shy. However, I didn't remove my hand. I merely sipped my drink and gazed up at the stars. They were so pretty, so distant and yet, so warm. They twinkled brightly against the inky black sky.
"So, take it you couldn't stand the party scene inside either?" He said, surprising me. He spoke to me out of the blue, and I didn't really know what to say. I nodded to myself before answering.
"Yeah. Parties aren't really my thing," I replied honestly, staring at the house. It was so fancy, so royal, so regal. I could never live in something like this. It was simply far too big for my taste. I wanted something simple... A house. A house big enough for my family to visit, for me to raise my own family in... Simple. I have always been a simple, low-maintenance kind of girl.
He laughed. "I just couldn't take it in there anymore. Everyone was acting so pretentious. Acting's just supposed to be their day job. I honestly don't know who they think they're kidding. Saying that they've read classics and watch all the right TV shows and have a degree just so that they can be trendy in yet another way... They're all so vapid and predictable. I just hate it sometimes," He retorted bitterly, obviously drawing some heavy sips from his own cup. I understood what he meant. He was like Holden Caulfield; he couldn't stand phonies. I got it and I got him.
I laughed at his joke, which was probably not the wisest thing to do... but, somehow, his bitter mockery of those people was funny and true. They say it's easier to confess to a stranger than a friend, and it was... easier for him, I guess. I don't know. I took a sip of my drink, feeling it start to take affect on me. It was starting to get to my head, so I turned to look at the guy. I crossed my legs, staring at him for a long, hard second before deciding to go for it. I leaned over and tapped him on the shoulder.
Immediately, with a wide smile on his face, he turned to face me. I was right... He was cute, very cute... But he was also- my stepbrother! My eyes widened in horror, and Derek's face mirrored my expression.
"Derek!"
"Casey?"
We were both a little freaked, but I was the first to muster up my composure. Derek was busy staring at my outfit. Of course, the little pervert! I took a deep breath before speaking, trying to be civil with him, which was so difficult.
You see, Derek and I had never really gotten along. We hadn't even really gotten close. Not that we lived together for that long... It was only two, maybe three years. Both of us moved out to go to college, separate schools of course. He went off to major in film-making at some art school, and I, well, I went after a more studious major. How could I have forgotten that he lived in L.A.? I mean, we didn't correspond or anything, but he was in the news a lot and Mom and George told me about him from time to time.
"So, I saw your latest movie... The one you wrote the screenplay for... Hate and War. It was funny, and in some way, really nice. I liked it. It was really true to life... By the way, thanks for getting a really pretty actress to play me..." I complimented politely. Derek smiled wryly, as if he thought I was lying to him. I really wasn't, though. I did like his movie, and frankly, I was rather flattered he'd made the character so attractive. Lord knows I wasn't that attractive when I was that age.
You see, Derek was a very famous director. He was in high demand. I'd read about him occasionally in the tabloids, and it was impossible not to hear about him in the city. He was always dating someone new. An actress, a singer, a playmate, a model... You get the drill. He was a literally notorious playboy, and he always had been, to tell the truth. But if he was such a flirt, why was I the only woman here with him? And by accident...
Because, you idiot, he didn't want to be found! And he knew this is not where anyone would expect him to be. Much less me.
Derek snorted derisively. "Oh, that? It wasn't anything. I was just sleeping with her at the time, and, well, she wanted a part. Though, seriously, we had some serious trouble keeping Michael and Ashley apart. There was all this sexual tension there... Had to keep reminding them that we weren't doing a remake of Cruel Intentions. Actually, I'm surprised you even bothered to see it..." Derek explained briefly, sans frills.
I frowned at the mention of his sexual... Just the fact that he's so free to admit that he had sex with the actress who played the character based on me. Is it just me, or is that a little creepy? I mean, he was sleeping with the actress who basically played me. Which is like, well, I think you can get the drift, and, freaky, right?
In case you're wondering, the Michael and Ashley in question are the actors who played his character and my character. Derek's huge. He has his own production company now. Derek hadn't invited me to the premiere. I was busy with school and work at the time, plus he thought I didn't want to go. He invited our whole family except me. Yeah, can you say burn?
"You're looking hot, Case," Derek muttered sometime later, during an awkward silence. He was slightly drunk, but so was I (if not more so). It turns out that he had a flask on him... He claimed it was for those days on set when the actors were being total bitches, or, of course, because you never knew when you might need it. I became slightly worried that he was an alcoholic from that point on.
I had long ago moved over to sit next to him, staring out over the balcony at the lake below. It was serene and peaceful. This was sort of nice... Wow, mind-boggling. We alternated sips from the flask, talking about stupid stuff from high school and the family and other stuff like that. His leg brushed my bare one, and then a second later, his hand did the same. I was surprised at how it nearly unnerved me and almost drove me insane. We were both well on our way to getting stinking drunk, but we didn't care in the slightest.
I must be drunker than I thought. Soon we were no longer talking at all. There was just a series of long silences punctuated by random chatter. Then we both realized we were completely wasted (I have a very vague recollection of this). It was after he said I looked hot, I remember.
"So do you..." I murmured, before grabbing him by the lapel and pulling him into a sloppy, rough kiss. Derek responded enthusiastically, and suddenly, I wasn't thinking anymore. At least, not with my brain. I remember being dragged through the party, kissing all the way. No one noticed or seemed to care. I didn't even care. It didn't register that I was kissing Derek, my still-stepbrother. Or that I was moving into something a little too fast.
I was stupid.. Drunk and laughing, and my world was spinning. But Derek kept me somehow grounded. I didn't think. I didn't look before I leap. I just jumped right into it. Before I knew it, we were locked in a crimson room... with a bed.
And then we were on the bed. I was light-headed and breathless. He was making my world spin and I liked it. I loved the feeling of his hands all over me, the sparks I felt, like little lightning sent coursing through my veins. I was full of energy, full of adrenaline, crazed and mad with lust. I couldn't take my hands off of him if I wanted to... and I didn't.
I don't remember much of what ensued after that. We didn't say much. I remember getting naked and him getting naked. Mmm, he looked good, I think... Some touches, more kissing, that sort of thing... Nothing real clear. But one thing stuck with me. That was the best sex of my life (not that I'm majorly experienced, but, hey, I've had a few boyfriends). Yes, the best sex of my life was with Derek, my stepbrother. Ew.
All I can say is... No wonder he was so many girlfriends. That and, how could you possibly be so stupid, Casey? It wasn't even protected! He could've given me an STD or something! Or, worse, gotten me pregnant! Imagine being stuck with a mini-Derek in my stomach! Oh, it's the stuff of nightmares!
I need a Morning After Pill. Ugh, I had a one-night stand with Derek. Derek, my brother, Derek. Is it hard to believe that before this I thought of him as a brother? Like seriously, I did! I didn't want to jump him or anything! And I didn't stare... Or think about him in fuzzy ways... Damn it.
Why does stuff like this always happen to me.
And then next thing I know I'm waking up next to him with one hell of a hangover. Wrapped up in his warm, inviting arms. Then his eyes opened slowly. He was awake. Now what the hell was I supposed to do? I couldn't sneak away... I couldn't pretend it had never happened. But I had to forget. I just... had to. For my own good.
I still had to see him at home for family matters, and Christmas was fast approaching. We needed to sort this out, and badly. Bad, bad Casey. Let this be a lesson to you. Don't ever get drunk. Ever.
Derek yawned, not at all reacting to my presence, only tightening his grip around my waist. A lazy grin spread slowly across his face. He pressed a wet kiss to my cheek. I still felt the sparks reverberating between us.
"Morning, Casey... You were good."
Now, what in the hell was I supposed to say to that?
Loren ;
Casey and Derek have, obviously, changed a lot. And not a lot. This fic is really a lot different than my other one... For instance, the whole thing's gonna be in Casey POV.
Review if you liked it! I love reviews. They are like oxygen! They lift us up where we belong! Okay, so maybe I've watched Moulin Rouge too much... Anyways, you heard the crazy lady! Review!
