Hey! This is my first Lemonade Mouth story, but I've written 9 others for Degrassi! So check those out!
This story will be written from all of their different points of view! Some chapters may only be one or two of them while others will be all five, but I wanted to include all of them in the first chapter to set the sceen and all that stuff.
*I don't own Lemonade Mouth, the book or the movie!
Chapter 1
Mo
It's funny how things change.
Change; That word has haunted me my whole life.
When I was in middle school, everything was fine I guess. I was a normal kid. I wasn't in with the really popular kids, but I wasn't a dork. I had Naomi Fishmeier, my best friend, and many other friends from band class.
In high school, I started dating Scott Pickett, and my popularity escalated quickly. I was living the good life; I had lots of friends, got invited to all of the coolest parties and, best of all, I was dating Scott.
And then, with that fateful detention and an old cello, my life changed once again. I became a member of lemonade Mouth. I became part of something. I was suddenly standing up to the popular kids and doing something I loved. AND I met Stella, Olivia, Wen and Charlie.
Charlie. He haunts me too. But I'll get into that later.
After high school, Lemonade Mouth fell apart. My parents were trying their best to be supportive through my musical career with Lemonade Mouth, but still forced me to go to college. I was accepted into Julliard to play stand-up bass and violin. I studied there, and after I went to college, I met up with Scott again.
I can still remember that night.
Naomi and I were going to a bar in New York City, where I was living at the time. We had just graduated college and she'd gotten a fabulous job as a journalist at the New York Times, so we were celebrating.
I sat down at the bar and Naomi went to the restroom. I ordered us each a martini, of course, and sat down, sipping my drink and waiting for my friend. And that's when it happened.
"Excuse me miss. I couldn't help but notice that you're sitting here alone. Let me buy you a drink." He said, waving the bar tender over. I looked up lazily at him, expecting to find some college kid.
I didn't expect to see Scott.
"Scott? Scott Pickett?" I asked, shock over whelming me. He was no longer the rough, rock n roll teenaged boy that I used to know. He'd replaced his shaggy blond hair for a buz-cut and his weak arms were now muscular and strong. He looked much more buff and older. He'd ditched his red skinny jeans and leather jacket for a U.S. Army uniform. Even with all of the change, I could still see the Scott I knew through his deep, crystal clear blue eyes.
"Mo?" he asked. I nodded, smiling.
"Wow, how are you?" I asked. He sat down next to me and smiled, ordering a beer.
"I'm actually doing really well. I joined the army and just finished training." He told me.
"Oh, wow, that's wonderful!" I said. "I never took you as the army type of guy," I said.
"I didn't think I was either, but I really want to make a difference, like I did with Lemonade Mouth." He said. I nodded.
I hadn't thought of Lemonade Mouth in forever. Well, that's not true. I'd been trying to forget Lemonade Mouth for forever, but it was to no avail.
"That's cool." I said.
"What about you?" he asked me.
"What about me?" I questioned. He smirked.
"You got into Julliard, what are you doing now?" he asked.
"Looking for a teaching job." I replied.
"I've really missed you, Mo." He said. "I think about you all the time." He said.
I thought about him all the time too. You see, I'd broken up with him to go out with Charlie. Charlie and I were together for two years. And then, when Lemonade Mouth crashed down, our relationship kinda crashed down too.
I never thought I would ever see Scott again. That's why it was such a pleasant surprise when I found myself making out in the bathroom with Scott ten minutes later.
Looking back, I don't regret taking him home that night. I don't regret marrying him or moving back to Rode Island with him or having two children with him.
In fact, I think my only resentment (besides Lemonade Mouth and Charlie) is the fact that Scott died in war two years ago.
This morning started as any other. I climbed out of bed early, already feelings of loneliness sweeping over me. The empty pillow next to me is a sudden reminder of Scott. His head used to lay right there, smiling at me every morning. Now I'm alone. I stand up on my own two feet, and make my bed, straitening my sheets and fluffy white comforter.
I look out the window to see that it's raining in Rode Island today.
"Today, I'll be happy. Starting right now, I'm going to stop dwelling on the past and live in the moment. Things will surly get better soon." I say to myself.
Guess what? They don't.
I take a shower and curl my thick, black hair. I look in the mirror and big brown eyes stare back at me. My tanned skin and dark hair give me an exotic look, which frustrates me. I hate how I look so different from everyone else in Rode Island.
"Selina, Gina, wake up girls," I call softly to my children as I wake them up. It's Saturday, one of the busiest days of the week at my music school.
My four year old, Gina, wakes up first.
"Mommy," she says, smiling brightly. She looks like her dad.
"C'mon baby girl, we've got to get going." I say, pulling her out of bed. She goes to get dressed.
"Mommy, go away!" my six year old, Selina says.
"C'mon sweetie, we've got to get going." I say. She mutters something that I don't catch and stands up, walking over to her dresser.
I go into my room to get dressed. I choose a black pencil skirt, a caramel colored blazer and a white dress shirt, along with black heels and a few long necklaces. Walking back out into the kitchen of my small home, I see the girls at the table, dressed and ready to go.
"Toaster stroodle?" I ask, already knowing the answer. Both girls nod and I ready their breakfast, drinking a cup of Mel's Lemonade while I do so.
As they nibble on their breakfast, I sit at the table and examine the American flag mounted over my fireplace in the living room. It's folded into a perfect triangle and is protected in a wooden frame. I received it when Scott died because he'd been a service man.
"Mommy?" Selina asks, tugging on my sleeve.
"Yes Selina?" I ask, looking at my daughter.
"Guess what Julia Krofsky said to me at school yesterday." She said.
"What?"
"She told me that I don't have a real daddy because he died, so he's not real anymore." she told me.
"Oh Selina, sweetie, just because we can't see daddy doesn't mean he's not here. He's inside our hearts and our love." I told my girls. They nodded and were pretty quiet until Selina asked another question.
"Mommy, when will you get us a new daddy?" she asks. I choke on my lemonade when I hear this.
"What?" I ask, honestly shocked.
"Britney Heather said that when her daddy left, her mommy got married again and now she has a new daddy." Selina informs me.
"Oh sweetie," I start, not sure how to address this.
"Mommy, will you get a new daddy someday?" she asks.
"Maybe someday," I agree.
I grab the keys to my Toyota Hylander and the girls collect their things. I grab my bag with my lesson plans and my purse and push the girls out the door, to my car. They climb in the back seat and I start my car, pulling out of the driveway and cruising down the wet, gloomy streets of Rode Island.
I pull up in front of my mom's house and park on the street. The girls and I huddle under my umbrella and I make my way with them down the driveway, up the walk, and onto the front porch. My mom unlocked the front door the moment she heard us coming. The girls ran inside.
"Hey mama," I said.
"Bubba, how are you?" she asks, calling me by my special nickname. I shrug.
"Fine I guess," I reply. "Where's Baba?"
"He's at the office today, he has a big meeting." She tells me. I nod.
"Alright, well I've got to be going." I say, trying to leave before she can bring up today.
"Wait bubba," she says, taking my hand. "Isn't today Lemonade Mouth's anniversary?" she asks. I mentally groan and nod at my mom.
"Yes, today is the day of the detention incident." I reply, anxious to be done with this conversation.
"Well, I hope you're doing well with that." She tells me. It's code for I hope you're not torn up inside and freaked out and depressed.
"I am. Don't worry mama, I'll be alright." I lie.
"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" she asks. "Have a good day!" she says a moment later. I hug her and say my goodbye, then run back to my car.
Now would be a good time to tell you about Charlie.
Charlie and I started dating in our junior year of high school. The band was doing really well and we were becoming kinda famous. We were touring and playing places like Madison Square Garden. CDs were selling at crazy rates! People were in love with Lemonade Mouth.
When Charlie and I started dating, we started doing a lot of other stuff too. Even though I gave my virginity to Scott, Charlie felt like my real first. Charlie took care of me and my needs before his own. He was always putting me and my happiness first. He would do whatever it takes to make me smile. Charlie loved me. He honestly loved me. And I honestly loved him.
So why the heartbreak you ask? Well, Charlie and I might have been in love, but that didn't change the fact that Charlie was a guy. My parents didn't necessarily like that aspect of our relationship. They wanted me to marry a clean-cut Hindu man who was preferably a doctor or a lawyer. They didn't want me to be with someone like Charlie. By "someone like Charlie" I mean someone who didn't have a set career or the best academic marks.
But my parents weren't the real reason Charlie and I didn't work out.
Remember how I said that Lemonade Mouth fell apart? Well, I wasn't kidding. It was the end of our senior year. We only had one week left of school. And Lemonade Mouth spent it fighting about our futures.
Stella wanted to continue with the band. Our agent, Mark Hudgens, wanted us to go on an international summer tour, then come back and produce a second album. My parents would have none of this. All throughout high school, they'd been trying as hard as they could to support my music career and let me make my own decisions. However, no matter how good my band did, they still wanted me to go to college. Not going to school wasn't an option. Charlie was offered a spot on the national soccer team as well as a scholarship to Boston University. His mother forced him to take the spot on the soccer team, and they'd be training all summer, so touring was out of the question for both of us.
Wen and Olivia saw things differently.
Olivia wanted to go to an art school. She'd always been quite the talent and wanted to paint. So it was no wonder that she was immediately accepted into Rode Island School of Design. She chose to go to college and create a stable future for herself, like Charlie and I were forced to do.
Wen had always loved art as well, but not the same way as Olivia. He loved architecture. He wanted to build and create. He went to Rode Island School of Design to become an architect.
Stella had a different idea.
She wanted to go out on the road and play music and inspire people.
"We can change the world!" she's fought us. "We can go out there and do something that people will remember in a hundred years!"
She's lost that battle. Instead, she'd somehow gotten involved with TV broadcasting and now has her own local TV talk show.
So when Lemonade Mouth broke down, Charlie and I were at a loss.
Wen and Olivia moved in together in an apartment outside of their campus. Stella got her own place to live. Charlie and I were stuck. We wanted to be together, but there was no possible way. Not if we wanted to make our parents happy. So I went to New York and he went to Boston. But, before we left, we had that one night.
Sitting in traffic on the highway in the rain, my mind drifts back to that night.
"Mo," he'd whispered as a rock clinked against my open window. My parents weren't home, they were gone on a beach vacation, and I was home alone. I got out of bed and went over to the window, looking outside into the summer night.
"Charlie?" I asked, peering down to find him standing on my front lawn with a boquet of roses.
"Mo, let me inside." He called. I rushed downstairs and opened the front door. My nerves were all live wires, I was bursting with excitement at the thought of him spending the night.
"Charlie," I said, letting him inside, then locking the door up again.
"I wanted to see you before we leave tomorrow." He said. I sighed, sadness washing over me.
"I'm really gonna miss you," I murmured, not wanting to start crying.
"Let's go upstairs," he offered. I nodded and he followed me up to my bedroom. Closing the door, he sat on my bed.
"These are for you," he said. I took the roses and smiled, placing them on my desk.
"Thank you, they're lovely." I told him. I then climbed into my bed and snuggled up with him.
"Did you pick out an apartment yet?" he asked quietly. I nodded.
"Yeah. It's small but really nice...what about you?" I asked.
"Yeah I got one. It's tiny. I barely have room for my drum set." He told me.
"What a shame," I joked. He smiled and kissed me.
"I can't believe that I have to let you go." He murmured. I tightened my grip on him.
"No, I don't want to." I told him.
"I'm not exactly thrilled about the idea either." He told me. "But I can't break my mom's heart."
"I know what you mean. I have to do this for my parents." I said.
"Do you believe in fate, Mo?" he asked.
"I do. Ever since the Lemonade Mouth incident, I always have." I answer. He nodded in approval.
"Someday," he started. "We'll be together. If we are meant to be, if you're my soul mate, we'll be together. We'll meet again someday." He told me.
"If were ever meet again, I'm not letting you go." I said.
"Good. Because I plan on holding onto you forever." He replied. With those few sentences, we had a deal. If we ever found each other, we'd be together. I loved him.
After that, we slipped into a night of lust. We just needed one last time, one last night. It was slow and beautiful. Maybe the most wonderful thing I've ever experienced, this coming from a girl who played Madison Square Garden. It was perfect. And now, it was gone.
Every time I think of that night I feel like crying. I don't want to live without Charlie. I miss him. I loved Scott, but he was never my soul mate. Fate hadn't brought him to me, I'd found him. And that night after college in the bar? That, my friend, wasn't fate. That was a sad coincidence. I don't regret my life with Scott, I loved him. But, he was no Charlie. My love for Scott was great, but my love for Charlie was much greater and it always will be.
I pull into the parking lot of the music school and walk inside, clocking in. It's a privet school, not an alternate to public school, but a small place to get privet lessons. I taught piano, bass, cello, violin and viola.
I went into my small class room and sat down, turning on the TV. I had about an hour before any students would show up and had to get some paper work done. Curiosity taking the best of me, I couldn't help but turn on Stella's TV show on the small TV in my classroom. I heard her voice and saw her face, and for a moment, I was at peace. I miss Stella. I miss Stella and her crazy hair and her determination. I miss her crazy t-shirts and protests and defiance. I miss Olivia and her sweet nature and her beautiful songs. I miss Wen and his piano and his smile and his stupid sarcastic jokes. I miss Charlie. I miss Charlie's hair and big beautiful brown eyes and his sweet smile and his soft lips. I miss his loving voice and his unique style. I miss his drums. I miss the way he looks at me. I miss Charlie. A sudden realization hits me and I almost fall off my chair.
I miss Lemonade Mouth.
Stella
There comes a time when the past comes back to bite you.
In my case, my past is coming back to save me.
You see, dear readers, my past is a little rough. Not in the way you're thinking with gangs and drugs and that kind of roughness. No, I meant emotional roughness.
When I was a sophomore in high school, my family moved from Arizona to Rode Island. They tore me away from everything I've ever known and threw me into the classic high school. Cleché as it sounds, I was the new kid. I was different. Nobody had any interest in being with me, the freak with the crazy hair. However, I wasn't exactly keen on just standing around and waiting for High School to be over. That hardly seemed like any fun. No, I wanted to make a difference! I wanted things to change! You know the story of Lemonade Mouth, I presume. You know all about how the band changed that little cleché high school. You know all about how we had a chance to become famous and go down in history with Gohndi and Martin Luther King Jr.? Well, my band mates threw that away. They wanted a stable future.
Well, I was determined to make a difference. I was going to revolutionize the world if it was the last thing I did. I started a radio show.
Yes, I know what's passing through your simple little mind, "Nobody listens to the radio anymore, you nut!"
But, dear reader, you are wrong. In fact, so many people listened to my morning talk show that a local broadcasting company gave me my own television show! That's right. Sista Stella was now on the big screen, talking her way into people's hearts and making a difference. She attacked matters such as recycling and solar energy, but also smoothed over local conflicts such as a scandal with the mayor last October.
She was changing the way people looked at things.
And today, September 18th, she'd do that yet again. Only this time, she'd change four individual people's hearts. She's bring back Lemonade Mouth.
I was sitting at my desk in the studio, sipping a cold Mel's Lemonade and going over my script for the day's show. Then, as I did every morning, I tossed it into the garbage. I didn't need a script. I was Stella! I had a tendency to wing-it. Winging-it worked for me.
I got up and fixed my hair in the mirror. I was ready.
"Stella to set!" they called. I walked out onto the stage and sat down in my comfy green chair. Someone brought me lemonade and I smiled, mentally prepping for the show.
"Live in ten!" they called. In just ten, short minutes, I'd be on the air. Hopefully, Charlie, Mo, Olivia and Wen would be watching. And if they weren't, they'd surly hear about my little stunt before lunch.
Ten minutes until Lemonade Mouth was back. And I could hardly wait.
Charlie
It was early when I awoke to hear pounding on the drums.
"What the hell?" I asked myself as I climbed out of my bed and looked around, rubbing my eyes.
My bed sat in a small room with dark blue walls. There was a dresser on the left wall and a closet on the right. It was simple and cheep, just the way I liked it.
I shuffled out of my room and into the hallway walking as if I was a zombie. I noticed that Milly's door was open and she was missing from her bed. I groaned and walked down the hallway, toward the small kitchen.
There were boxes everywhere, piled high. I'd just moved here from Boston with my daughter Milly. She's ten years old. "Here" is a tiny apartment in Rode Island, the town where I grew up.
I started a pot of coffee (even though I'd probably just have lemonade) and walked out of the outdated kitchen and into the living room. I had to squeeze past a rather large pile of boxes to get into the living room. When I did, I heard and saw something that made me smile.
Milly was playing my old Lemonade Mouth drums. And guess what she was playing? She was playing the progression from an old Lemonade Mouth song, Somebody.
Before my brain could stop it, I started clapping.
"Mill, that was great!" I said. She looked up and started smiling, and stopped playing, dropping her sticks. She ran up to me and hugged me, throwing her arms around me.
"Thank you! I worked hard on it!" she said.
"I could tell," I replied. "It was better than me!"
"No one's better than you," she replied.
"Oh, I'm sure there are tons of people better than me, you included." I replied. She was quiet for a moment before she asked another question.
"Did mommy like your drumming?" she asked. I hesitated before answering.
"Yes, mommy thought the music was cool," I replied. "But she didn't want me to do that for a living."
"Oh," she replied. "Can we watch Aunt Stella?" she asked.
"Sure," I replied. We walked into the kitchen and sat down at the kitchen table. I got us each a Mel's Lemonade and sat down with her, turning on the old TV.
As we watched a toothbrush commercial and waited for Stella to appear on the small screen, I examined my daughter.
She had long, brown hair that she braded into pigtails. She'd carefully placed a knit cap on her head. She had deep brown eyes like me. Her outfit was a little rebellious with a graphic t-shirt, grey jeans, vans and a grey vest. She reminded me of Stella in the way she spoke out for what she believed in and didn't let others get her down because of her style.
"I love you, Daddy." She said suddenly.
"I love you too, Milly." I said. She smiled.
She looked like me, she acted like Stella…I wondered if any of her mother's traits had been passed down to her. Her mother, a rich prep-school girl named Helen, had been my college girlfriend. We'd dated for two years, but got pregnant in the last semester. Helen had the baby (Milly) but didn't want her and was ready to give her up for adoption. So, I took care of Milly and Helen ran away to California.
I had my spot on the national soccer team and was in the Olympics twice (winning both times), and raised Milly in Boston. But, after I quit the team last year, I moved back to Rode Island in hope of going through the police academy and becoming a cop.
Now, I'm getting ready to graduate the academy and Milly is starting fifth grade. Our little family is happy enough, I guess.
But there's always been one thing missing from my life. That one thing was Mo.
Olivia
It started off as any other day. I awoke to find sun streaming through my windows and Wen lying next to me in our big, soft bed. I rolled over and smiled at him. My fiancé laid next to me in a perfect home in my perfect life. Well, almost perfect. Lemonade Mouth would have made if perfect.
Wen was reading a paperback novel, his reading glasses perched on his nose. I closed his book, leaving his bookmark in his spot, and put it on his night stand. I reached up and gave him a kiss. He smiled against my lips and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me and keeping me safe.
"Morning sunshine," he said to me. "I already took care of Misty." He said, meaning our husky. Misty was a present from Wen's dad and step-mom, Sydney.
"Oh?" I asked. He smiled.
"Happy anniversary," he told me. I smiled. Today was the day we'd first met.
"Today is really 12 years? It's hard to believe that we're already 28 years old." I said.
"I know," he replied. "And we'll be 29 in May when we get married."
"Married," I repeat. I smiled at the way the word sounds in my mouth. It seems to fit perfectly.
"I'll get us some Lemonade," he said, getting up. I got up with him.
"I'll turn on the TV." I said. We both walked out of our bedroom and into our small house. It was two bedrooms and had a rather funky sense of design. Wen had designed the house to be unique and charming. I'd decorated the inside to be colorful and bright with many different funky patterns, colors and pieces of mix-matched furniture.
I sit on the couch and turn on the old TV, changing the channel to Stella's local talk show. Wen and I often watched her show, just to keep some kind of connection to her. We honestly missed her. We missed Mo and Charlie too and hadn't heard from them since the summer after high school.
"Lemonade for you, darling." Wen said, handing me a cold can of the liquid that started it all. I smiled and he sat next to me on the teal couch.
"Do you think she's gonna say anything about Lemonade Mouth?" I asked. Wen shrugged.
"Probably not. She has better judgment than that," he said.
"this is Stella we're talking about," I reminded him. He raised an eyebrow.
"Oh god," he muttered.
"And we're back with The Stella Show!" The TV announcer said. And, once again, Stella's familiar face lit up the screen.
"Good morning Rode Island!" She sang, smiling. She looked good. "Well, let's not waste time. I'm gonna jump right into this, never looking back! I'm taking the plunge!" she said, throwing her arms around as she did so. "Who remembers Lemonade Mouth?" she asked. And then the music video lit up the screen. And then my 17 year old face lit up the screen. And then Wen looked at me. And then I knew we were thinking the same thing: We have to kill Stella.
Wen
All I could do was stare. There I was, sitting in my living room, feeling out of place. It was the strangest feeling. Staring at the TV screen, I watched Olivia sing in the music video for More Than A Band. We made that when we were 17! 17! 11 years ago! I watched myself jump up and down with my key board and Charlie attack his drum set and Mo play her heart out and Stella jump around and flip her hair. I watched Lemonade Mouth. I never expected to see this video on TV. Maybe on a Where Are They Now reality show special, but never on Stella's talk show! It was crazy!
"I'm gonna kill her!" Olivia said. I knew she didn't mean it literally. Olivia couldn't kill a fly much less a person. But she was saying what I was feeling. I'd spent the past 10 years trying to forget about Lemonade Mouth, and now, with one video, Stella had erased all of my hard work.
"I know what you mean," I muttered. But as I watched our faces and the smiles spread across them, I couldn't help but wonder about what our lives would be like if we'd stuck with the band. We're all be happy like that all the time. I missed writing songs and playing music. Sure, being an architect was one of my passions, but my number one passion had always been music.
"Maybe it's good," I said without thinking.
"What?" Olivia asked.
"Liv, maybe she wants us to reunite. Not as a band, but maybe as friends?" I asked. She nodded slowly.
"I agree, I miss her too." She said. "I miss everyone."
"Well then," I said. "This is a good thing." I decided.
But, at the time, I didn't know how this would change my life forever. None of us did.
A/N: 17 pages and 5,000 something words! Wow, it took me a week to write the first chapter! Thoughts? Please review and tell me!