A/N: So I saw You've Got Fanmail. And it made me squeal. Now when something makes me squeal, fanfiction must be written for it. But before watching it, I was waiting for an idea for a Channy fic to hit me. You've Got Fanmail gave me a perfect idea.

Once again, I questioned if there really is such a thing as originality. After I finished this fanfic, the thought suddenly struck me that someone might have already done a story like this. So I searched through the fics of SWAC (which is only 3 pages, thank goodness.) And I was right. I found two other fics that were based on You've Got Fanmail. They were both really good stories, I have to say. I honestly didn't know about them until after I wrote this. But I don't want to leave this fic lost in my documents along with my essays and collection of funny quotes. So I'm posting this anyway. All three fics are different. Each fic is an interpretation of how we each viewed the scene from You've Got Fanmail. Plus, I started the fic a little earlier, and I didn't put the aftermath of the "Introducing ... Eric!" scene. Mine has a LOT of Chad rambling as well.

Basically, this is about what's going through Chad's head during the scene. I know, why not just watch the scene? But you can't watch the scene and know what Chad's thinking, huh? Plus it's amusing. And I practiced writing. And I'm posting something. So ha.

If you're wondering about the title... well in this fic, I used a lot more parentheses than usual. And inside of the parentheses were some points that Chad makes. At first they kind of remind everyone that he's still Mr. Conceited, but later on, they lessen and if parentheses are used, it's to point out a change in himself.

Gosh, I really didn't want to ramble, but I guess I ended up doing so anyway. So, before I begin to talk about something else you won't really care about, here's my very first Sonny With A Chance fic!

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Parenthetical Points
by Pwnguin

Chad's POV

My days on the set of So Random! practicing for my big time movie deal were probably the most interesting days of my life. I met that kid, Jeff... something-or-other, got to wear an awesome blondish beard on my face, and realized that there's a part of me that actually - dare I say it - cares about Sonny. (May the cast of The Falls insert their surprised gasps here.)

I don't know what came over me. One second, I was telling Sonny about how I never suffered from Actor's Insecurity (since, you know, I'm Chad Dylan Cooper. Guys like me are never insecure about themselves), the next, I'm putting on a beard (which smelled exactly like Sonny, which is nice, like lilacs and roses at the same time. ... What am I saying?!) and saving Sonny from being embarrassed on the face of public television.

Any human can clearly see that I need medical attention.

Ever since Sonny became a part of So Random!, I feel like... like... like a part of me has come out to actually care about someone other than myself.

... Or not.

Anyway. So the cast of So Random! had just finished their sketch on something that had to do with dancing and portable toilets, and they were going to do that thing they do after the show where the creator / producer person comes on stage with all the "actors" (They're not actors. But I'm using it for lack of a better word. Bear with me.) and say goodbye to the people who actually care about the show. (Take note, that would be less people than the number of people who care about Mackenzie Falls. We are obviously better.) I found a sparkly curtain, decided to walk through it, and found Sonny in her blonde wig and sparkly teal dress digging through a box of items that were strangely familiar. Then it hit me. That weird dude with the funky beard. That was Sonny. Wow.

"I knew I recognized you," I said, smiling knowingly at her. "You're weird beard." Her head went down with a sigh of defeat. "Why are you weird beard?"

"Why do you care?" she asked. Not in a rude way, actually. It was more like a "oops-caught-me tone". She was smiling too.

For a second my mind told me to give a sweet, caring answer. But my mouth beat me to it, "I don't know, let's give it a shot."

"Well," she began, "I send myself a fan letter, pretended to be my own fan, and now I get to go on stage and meet the fan I'm pretending to be!" She said it as if it were a joke. But I saw no humor in it at all.

"Why would you write yourself a fan letter?" Why would she need to? I mean, she's funny (Yeah. I said it. Sonny Munroe is funny.) And why would actors (Lack of a better word, remember) need to write themselves fan letters? Don't they have fans to do it for them?

She sighed, "Because I lost faith in myself."

I laughed, "Ah. Classic case of Actor Insecurity. Start doubting your abilities, wondering whether you're good enough and whether if you deserve to be on TV."

"So you've been through this?" She asked. There was a sign of hope in her eyes. Again, something told me to give a respectful answer. But once again...

"No!" I said with a laugh."No, but I made you think I had which is why I'll never go through it." I looked up and sighed. It's good to be me.

"You are unbelievable!" She scowled. "I knew it. You don't care. I thought we were having a real moment here."

And I thought we were too! But something wouldn't let me be nice to her. Why? Why was I doing this?

Because I'm Chad Dylan Cooper. I have the right to act this way. Yeah. That's it.

But I made her feel bad!

What is WRONG with me?!

I started to open my mouth to say something, but the announcer's voice came from over head, "Now please welcome back to the stage, the cast of So Random!" It followed with the audience's cheers.

"Well," she said, "That's my cue." And there was a laugh in her voice. She was about to embarrass herself in front of millions of people.

"So what are you gonna do?" I asked. Maybe she wouldn't. Maybe she was smart enough to save herself from the embarrassment.

"You don't care, remember?" She said. And this time it was rude and sarcastic.

And it actually... hurt.

"But I do," she said firmly. "Now excuse me while I go out there and embarrass myself." And she said it with slight confidence.

She was confidently going to make a fool out of herself.

She walked toward the stage. It sort of... pained me to watch her go out there like that. I wanted to stop her and save her from the humility she was going to face. But what could I do? I'm Chad Dylan Cooper for Pete's sake!

... Hey. I'm Chad Dylan Cooper for Pete's sake...

There wasn't much time. I dug through the box and found the weird beard. Before I could stop myself, I continued to put on the rest of the outfit.

"That's our show everybody," that Marshall guy said. "But before we say goodnight, we want to introduce you to a very special guest, the guy who wrote Sonny's very first fan letter! Let's give it up for Eric - "

There was a pause. I slipped my arms into the fake casts. What was Sonny thinking? Two broken arms? I listened for the cue. Why'd he stop? I almost ripped off the funny beard, but then Marshall continued, "Let's give it up for Eric!"

The audience erupted into cheers. I figured that Eric was me. I pulled the mahogany... maroon... red... whatever hood over my head and took a breath. A part of me wanted to turn back and let Sonny humiliate herself. Actually, that part was extremely dominant over the other part, which was to go on stage in this stupid outfit and save Sonny from embarrassment.

"Eric! Come out come out wherever you're not!" Tawni called. Apparently I was thinking too much. I've been doing that a lot lately... especially since Sonny showed up here. What has that girl done to me?!

There was another pause. Then I heard Sonny's voice, loud and clear, "Eric ... is ... "

I pulled the curtain back and stepped through, "Your biggest fan!"

The audience began to applaud and clap. I waved. It was definitely too late too turn back now. Tawni looked at me with a big look of disbelievement on her face.

"That's impossible!" Tawni exclaimed, "Eric is not real!"

"Uh, but I'm standing right here." I said. I grabbed the mic from Sonny's hands (the part that would've stopped me was suddenly gone) and yelled into it, "Let's give it up for Sonny!"

The audience gave their approval with more whoops, cheers, and claps.

Her voice was drowned out from everyone else, but I could hear Sonny loud and clear, "Why are you helping me?"

Yeah... why am I helping her?, "I'm.. not helping you. I just ... wanted to try on the beard." (Hey, it's kinda true. It smells like her anyway. See, not a total lie.)

"Sounds like somebody cares," she said. And she had it all ... right. But I would never admit to that. Ever.

"Somebody," My voice cracked a little, "Wanted to try on a weird... beard..."

She coughed, "Cares."

"Beards."

"Cares."

"Beards."

"Cares."

"Beards."

"Beards."

"Cares." ... Darn. She got me.

"Gotcha!" She giggled. And... it felt good. I sighed in defeat and clapped my fake-casts-wrapped arms as the audience applauded.

I don't know what Sonny Munroe has done to me. I'm actually caring about someone other than myself. I'm standing on a stage along with the cast of So Random! (And I'm standing next to Sonny while doing so. And I kind of like it.) Either she's putting something in my water that causes people to become mentally insane, or the fact that I like the smell of this weird beard means something much more than my handsome head will ever understand.

... Either way, I'm mentally insane.

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A/N: I love writing from a conceited person's point of view. It's fun. And I love conceited characters. Which is probably why I love Jake from Hannah Montana so much.

Well anyway, what'd you think?