Title: This Isn't Hollywood
Summary: Three weeks vacation in Hawaii, two famous teenagers and one twist of fate. The stupid rivalry is out of sight and out of mind, emotions are becoming harder to deny and this isn't Hollywood...
Authors Note: So, while I have two (very) unfinished stories in the Camp Rock archives, I wanted to get this one out there. I reckon I'll be writing a lot during the 80 days I now have off (YAY FOR EXAMS FINISHING!) and so, hopefully, I'll be able to work on all three and only slack slightly! Anyway, let me know what you think/whether you like it/what you think might happen, because honestly, I have no real clue apart from knowing what song I'm taking little bits from (This Isn't Hollywood by Go:Audio). So yes, I'll post this up and then get to work on building an actual plot... which might be the wrong way around. Huh. Oh well. Feedback is much appreciated!
Disclaimer: Don't own Sonny With A Chance, the song This Isn't Hollywood or any of the songs I use at the beginning of each chapter. If I owned any of these things, I'd be rich and, alas, I'm not. Sob.
These friends, they don't love you
They just love the hotel suites, now
I don't care what you think as long as it's about me
The best of us can find happiness in misery
I Don't Care - Fall Out Boy
This is so not fair. Under no circumstances will this ever be fair. If I didn't know my mother so well, I'd be convinced that Ashton Kutcher was just around the corner and ready to announce that, for his special one-off episode of Punk'd, he'd managed to scam Chad Dylan Cooper into thinking that he had to endure a holiday with his family for three whole weeks.
Unfortunately, because I know my mother so well (though it's when she pulls stunts like this that I wish I didn't know her at all), I know that it's no practical joke that I'm on the plane journey from hell (seriously, has my mom never heard of first class? Or, even better, a private jet?), on my way to Hawaii, embarking on what my mother calls "the first family vacation we've had in five years".
Yeah, there's a reason we haven't had any family vacations in that long, Mom. It's called the 'everyone-thinks-family-vacations-are-STUPID' reason.
Family vacations should be vacations away from your family. And, despite what my mother says, the fact that I live alone and rarely see my family anyway is beside the point. This is a cruel and unusual punishment for doing nothing wrong whatsoever.
The little alien child that is sitting behind me (no, alien is not 'too strong', the child is green and wailing in a language that nobody on Earth would ever understand because it is gibberish. Therefore: alien child.) kicks the back of my seat for the fifth time and I grind my teeth together, fighting the urge to turn around and giving the child invader of our planet - and, more importantly, of Chad Dylan Cooper's personal space - a piece of my mind.
She'd basically just shown up at the studio (my mother, not the alien child because that would be weird), having caught wind of my three week break from filming thanks to the amazing (note the sarcasm) people at HotTunes who were having a slow news day and so decided to report on what yours truly was up to (not that I can really blame them for picking me, but regardless, I'll blame them for the fact that they gave my mom the information she needed to be able to show up and drag me to Hawaii), and announced that we were going away. Callie was in the car, ready to go, and she wasn't taking no for an answer.
She really wasn't. I said 'no' at least fifty times.
Yes. But now I'm here. Present tense and Chad Dylan Cooper is sitting, 30,000 feet in the air over a freakin' ocean (don't ask me which one it is; it's irrelevant and I'm not 100% sure anyway), with his mom and sister on either side of him, the alien child from planet WEIRD behind him, mixing with NORMAL people and, oddly enough, insanely conscious of the fact that he is currently thinking about himself in third person.
Why do I do that?
Shrugging to myself, I watch the tiny screen installed in the seat in front of me and groan as the 'time remaining' glares back at me, the digits telling me that I still have an hour of this to endure. An entire hour. 60 minutes.
If I could be bothered, I'd work out how many seconds, but I can't. I don't do Math. I'm an actor; I don't need to do sums. Or know the names of the oceans. These bits of knowledge are just unimportant in life.
"Chad, isn't this exciting?" My mom grins at me, obviously expecting a similar reaction from me in return.
I'm nodding within seconds of contorting my expression into a face that says otherwise. "Sure."
"Callie, isn't this exciting?" She turns her gaze to my sister and gives her the same grin.
"Totally," Callie says, her fingers moving deftly along the trackpad of her Nintendo DS. She sounds about as enamored as I do. At least my sister is on my side too. Even if that is a rare thing.
Then again, you never really know what Callie is thinking. She's a weird thirteen year old. I mean, she doesn't even watch Mackenzie Falls. And her own brother is in it. Come on, how many teenagers don't watch Mackenzie Falls?
Exactly.
Closing my eyes, I sigh and try and think positively about this entire trip (even though Sonny had the audacity to tell me the other day that I was incapable of thinking positively about anything - it's a long story, but basically I was complaining that the episode of the Falls that we were shooting was going to be a complete trainwreck because Portlyn had taken it upon herself to improvise during a key scene and made me look bad when I wasn't sure how to reply to her ridiculous accusation of Mackenzie being full of himself and so I was attempting to convince Sonny of the fact that my entire career would be in jeopardy if we didn't re-shoot the entire scene and, yeah, she'd told me to stop being melodramatic and think positively).
But yes. Positively. Optimism. What… what could be good about this trip? Uh...
I mean, I guess it could be a chance to see Hawaiian fans of mine. If, you know, they get Mackenzie Falls in Hawaii. Huh. Do they get Mackenzie Falls in Hawaii? I know they get it in England (all the fanmail I get from hot British chicks who put 'u' in color and say 'mum' instead of 'mom' tells me that) and in Australia (I totally went there for promotion and they loved me too) but I have no idea about… well, anywhere else. I guess I'll find that out, right?
And hey, it's practically one big beach. And one big beach means a whole hoard of girls in bikinis, which is always a mega plus. Girls in bikinis for three weeks may make this trip worthwhile.
See, I can be positive. Take that, Sonny Munroe, with your perkiness and optimism and your accusations that I can't look on the good side of things. I always look on the good side of things. Duh. I refuse to stand on Portlyn's bad side just in case it puts my good side (which, let's face it, is either side, really) in the shadows. I'm so positive. Sonny just doesn't realize this.
Huh. I wonder what Sonny is doing in her three weeks off. Probably organizing a peace picnic to help children with dreams or something equally as charitable. That just has Sonny written all over it, really.
I bet she isn't being forced to go on holiday with her mom and sister. Nope, I bet it's just me that has to endure that kind of torture.
Though… Sonny would probably go willingly if her mom came up with an idea like this. She'd think it was awesome and be perky and cute in general about it.
Except… not cute. Because Chad Dylan Cooper does not think that Sonny Munroe has any cute qualities whatsoever. I don't. Whatsoever.
I open my eyes, glancing at the screen again in order to check how long I have left on the flight from hell (honestly, is a private jet too much to ask?) and hope that it's gone down considerably since I last looked. It was 60 minutes then… it is now…
54 minutes.
What. The. Hell. I'm sure I spent more than 6 minutes thinking. I had to have spent more then 6 minutes thinking. Ugh. 56 more minutes? How did I get myself into this? What did I do to deserve this? What could I have possibly done to anger the gods and make them want to inflict this sort of… punishment on me?
I bet the gods are just all jealous.
This is so not fair.
---
"Rachel Cooper. I booked yesterday."
My mom gives her name to the cute brunette at the reception desk and then proceeds to send yet another grin in my direction. Like, the fifth one this hour. Seriously, if I keep having to return these happy expressions then, by the end of the three weeks, my face may be in a permanent smile. Which would not be good for my acting career. A Mackenzie who always smiles would not be good drama, at all.
"Certainly, Ms. Cooper," the girl says, glancing up at my mom and then her eyes slide over to where I'm standing. Recognition jumps into them immediately (I guess Mackenzie Falls does air over here. Sweet. That'll save me the trouble of introducing myself to everyone; they'll know automatically) and I brace myself for the all-familiar scream that usually comes seconds after someone realizes who they're standing opposite. Instead, she just laughs, as though she knows something I don't.
Wait. What? That is not the reaction that Chad Dylan Cooper usually gets.
Handing my mom two key cards, she shoots another smile at both of us (Callie is sitting in one of the armchairs that they have in the lobby for some obscure reason; why have an armchair in a lobby?) and gestures to the elevator beside the desk. "Have a nice stay."
"Okay, honey, I got you your own room… well, I'm sure you know why. But Callie and I are on the fifth floor. You're on the sixth. And don't even think that because we have separate rooms, it's an excuse not to see us at all. We'll come and hunt you down," Mom says, her smile hinting that she may be joking but her reputation telling me otherwise. She really will hunt me down if I avoid her, make no mistake about that.
I nod, picking up the case that I'd been forced to pack against my will, and snatching the card key with the big number six scrawled on it. "You know where I sleep, Mom, I get it. Talk to you later!"
"Don't think I'm joking, Chad!" She calls after my retreating back as I press the button for the elevator. Does this hotel not have bell boys? You know, people who will carry my case for me? It really should invest in some.
Stepping into the enclosed area, I watch as the door closes with a ping and press the button for the sixth floor. Three weeks in this place. Huh. It might not be that bad. I mean, besides the fact that I'll be forced to spend more time with my mom and sister than I would ever voluntarily choose to, it could have been worse. The sun was shining, the receptionist was kinda cute… though what was with the laughing? I've never had that reaction before. Ever. Nobody just laughs at me. What reason did she have to just laugh at me?
The doors open on the sixth floor and I walk out, looking down at the key card in my hand. 616. Looking at the numbers on the doors, I follow the ascending order; 612, 614… 616. As I put down the case, I hear a girl come out of one of the rooms closer to the elevator and skip (yes, skip, I can tell by the pattern of the footsteps) to it. When I glance up to see whether this girl was of an acceptable age to be skipping, I catch a glimpse of brown hair before the doors slid shut. Huh. That hair looks familiar.
I shake my head, pushing the card in the slot and opening the door.
Ugh. My first thought is exactly that: ugh. It's no five star hotel, that's for sure. It's not my big apartment in the Hollywood Hills. It's some hotel where… y'know, normal people stay. I'm not even sure I trust that the maids have cleaned it properly, to be honest.
Dumping my case on the bed (single. It's a single bed. Not that I was planning on sharing it with anyone, but still, I need space!) I open it up and pull a new shirt from it, taking about a minute to change from the t-shirt I wore on the flight. Then, wanting to get out of the room as fast as I can - already planning to spend as little time as possible within the potentially dirty four walls during my stay - I make my way back out of the room, closing the door behind me and navigating my way back down to the lobby, hoping that my mom and sister are safely out of the vicinity and in their own, probably dirtier, room.
"As soon as I get off work, cousin, I'll show you what there is to do on this island!" The receptionist is engrossed in conversation with someone who has their back to me. And, as odd as it may sound, it's a very familiar back. How can a back be familiar? Well, whatever. It's familiar. Like the hair I saw in the elevator.
Hey. It totally looks like the same hair.
I stop and shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans, trying not to look as though I'm listening in and more like I'm waiting for someone. Play it cool. Or… something.
"I'm totally excited!" The familiar-backed, familiar-haired person replies, speaking in an equally familiar voice, making it official that this person is definitely someone I know. But who? My mind has gone blank and, honestly, I can't recall a name.
"Oh! And you'll never guess who I just checked in! Seriously, it's like… fate, or something. You'd literally just finished talking to me about him and voila, he's standing right there with his mom."
Wow. The familiar-backed, familiar-haired, familiar-sounding girl knows me too. Though… everyone knows me. I don't know everyone.
It takes a few seconds for the other girl to reply and, as soon as she does, her identity dawns on me. "Oh my God, Becca, please be kidding…"
"Unfortunately for you, I'm not," the reception girl replies as she catches a glimpse of me. And yeah, I'll confess, I stopped being subtle when I realized who it was and am now kinda just staring at the familiar-backed, familiar-haired, familiar-sounding, familiar-everything girl who is standing at the desk and wondering how the hell she can be here. "And, even more unfortunately for you, he's standing right behind you, looking like he's seen a ghost."
She spins around almost immediately and her eyebrows shoot up in utter shock when she realizes that her cousin, the receptionist, is, in fact, right. "Oh my God."
Wow. It really was her. If it were an episode of Mackenzie Falls, I'd probably ask someone to pinch me right about now, but it's not. And that might ruin my skin. It… she was really here. Why was she here? How was she here? Did my mom know she was going to be here; is that why she was so hell bent on coming here? Oh my God, is my mom trying to set me up with her? First Selena Gomez, now my own mother? What the hell had I done in a past life to deserve this? Seriously, if I wanted to like her, then I would! I thought we'd established this already!
She's the first one to speak (well, isn't she always? Talk, talk, talk). "Chad?"
I raise my eyebrows, trying not to look as though I'm too taken aback that she's there (though that damn receptionist, as cute as she is, totally made me sound uncool with her 'seen a ghost' metaphor… or simile or… whatever) and copy her tone. "Sonny?"
Well. This should be interesting.