Hi, lovers!
Been wanting to work on a Bella/Jasper fic for a while and this seemed like the one. I usually don't even do twilight stuff but I think this could work.
About the rating changes- there might be lemons, I'm not sure. I've never written a lemon before, but I feel like this story could deflower my typing hands, if you're picking up what I'm putting down. Let me know what you think about that, and if anyone wants to help with that just be sure to send me a PM.
I own absolutely no shit. Any characters in this fic who may be publicly recognizable was not intentionally placed there. who am I kidding, Zaid Ameer left Other Way- that was totally intentional. But you'll forgive me, right?
Fuck.
That had always been Jasper's favourite word. It could mean so much or so little. It was raw. It was unadulterated passion, pure power and complete rage. It meant enjoyment or frustration. It had been his first word, and he'd said it at least twice a day since then, at least when his mom wasn't looking, and when he hit late elementary, he said it in almost every sentence.
Now, sitting there in the CEO of Terra Studios' office, with his 'friends' looking at their feet and his boss looking solemn- that's what fuck felt like when someone was about to hand you a fuck sandwich with your blood on it.
Aro Volturi was one of the most highly decorated music producers in the business. He had boy bands like Other Way and even Katherine Berry. They were all run of the mill teeny bopper type music and the rock band they'd been cultivating didn't exactly fit into that little ideal, but they were desperate and Aro's attention was exciting.
After Jasper and his band, the Roamers, had signed with him a few months ago, it wasn't hard to get that first album out. People loved them, but they had begun changing. Their music had lost it's soul and were closer to pop music than rock music. The boys, Demitri, Laurent and Felix, had quickly fit into that routine.
Jasper, on the other hand, was faithful to his culture. He walked barefoot in the studio and lit his smokes in the alley behind the building. His jeans were ripped due to actual distress rather than a stylist's idea to make them appear 'edgy'.
Now, the thing about Aro is, while he was incredibly good at his job, he was a dick-tator. His goal had been maximum talent with minimal retaliation. You couldn't lift a finger, a fucking pinkie, without his permission. Whatever they said in public was premeditated and whatever they wore was an endorsement deal. The questionnaires that you'd find in magazines about which band member was your soul mate- yeah, those were answered for them.
That's why Jasper would have usually been fucking relieved when Aro fired him. He had had just about e-fucking-nough of that place. But, unfortunately, it was slightly more heartbreaking than that.
See, Aro, wanted to keep the band. He liked the Roamers. On the other hand, Jasper's general refusal to listen to instruction pissed him off, so the Roamers would simply be picking up a different bass player-one who combed his hair.
There wasn't much Jasper could do about it. If you're out, you're out, and there's not a fucking thing you can do about it. So he yelled at his 'friends' about loyalty and his granddad's garage on a Friday afternoon. He reminded them about sleeping in the van when they couldn't afford to get a hotel room. He reminded them that he had started the band, and he labelled them sell-outs. Aro had dealt with this kind of thing before, and found it was easier to let him vent and then storm out than to bother security and cause a scene.
Eventually, it happened. Jasper walked out, seething, while spitting swearwords left and right.
He stood on the sidewalk and assessed the damage. He had some money-his personal savings, the money he'd been bought out with, and there was some inheritance that he was due from his grandfather that he'd always feel bad looking into. He'd get a small royalty every month, one that was too small to get anything real done, but would help him scrape by. Things weren't so bad.
Except that he was a washed-out homeless ex-rock star with no pride and no college education.
Fuck.
Drop me a review and let me know what you thought. Love or hate, as long as it's there it makes my heart smile. This was just a preface, so next chapter will pick up three years later.
Love you, lovers.
-Nuz