Lemonade Mouth
Sore winner
A one-shot I came up with DramaQueen…her plot got me thinking and then inspiration hit and then ta da!
Props to her for the story, hers should be out as well so do me a solid and check it out.
I don't own Lemonade Mouth or its characters
(^^)
Rising Star was over.
And Mudslide Crush came out on top.
Ray Beech felt a smirk permanently etch itself onto his face. Did he really expect anything less?
Well actually…
Off to the side a small group congregated consisting of five teenagers, a ridiculous orange haired guy with a huge black ring hanging around his eye, a timid blonde girl who was trying not to talk too much but was flushed pink for god knows what reason, a curly haired brunet that was excitedly drumming everything even though one hand was bandaged and an Indian girl who was trying not to cough while she spoke. In the middle of it all was her.
He could barely see her from over her band-mates' heads but he knew she was there.
There was a crowd just around their little circle, but none of the people got into his view as he glimpsed the leader of the band giving a speech, her voice being the only thing he could distinguish due to her height against that of her friends.
"You were amazing Ray!"
"Awesome stuff Ray, you guys rock!"
The congratulations of his fans were received with nods of acknowledgements and the same cocky smirk everyone knew so well; no one noticed how the blond front-man's eyes were constantly flying from his fans to his rival band's circle.
"…Do you know how amazing you are?"
"…You looked so hot on stage Ray!"
"Yeah, tell me something I don't know," he commented, though he was really trying to get them to shut up for a second as he saw her hand stick up from the circle she stood in, the tail end of her speech making its way to his hearing: "…We may not have won but we're strong, we're proud and we were heard! Proud to be a Lemonade Mouth!"
"Bottoms up!" The orange haired one added as almost everyone around them raised their cans of Mel's Lemonade.
There was a laugh. "Lemonade Mouth!"
Another cheer with whistles and applause to boot, they looked like they were having fun, Ray thought off-handedly.
He'd hoped they'd be miserable. Especially her.
She walked out of the large crowd, pushing her streaked hair out of her face and laughing as people congratulated her as well. She didn't even stop to blink when her brown eyes met his; she just turned her head and grinned at her friends who walked out with her.
No. What was she doing?
He won. Him. Not her.
Why was she acting like he was the fan-boy and she was the rockstar? What the hell was going on?
"Hey man," Ray's head snapped at the voice only to have Scott quirk a brow at him questionably. "Hey Ray what's up man?"
"What's up? You helped those Lemon Heads, I told you Pickett, you get on that stage and you don't go near Mudslide Crush."
Scott rolled his eyes. "Ray come on dude, Mo means something to me and if it means hanging with her band then," he shrugged.
"Then why are you here and not with your little honey then huh? You don't backstab the band and still expect to get the rewards, what do you take me for?"
"Alright, alright," he held his hands up in defense, "I'm going, I'm going, you don't need to be a sore winner about it."
Thankfully Pickett moved fast, Ray thought with a scowl. He would not need a brawl to totally oust his winning glory. He would enjoy it and rub it in anyone's face who dared to try and down it. This was his moment and he had all the fans to prove it.
Half an hour of hearing how great he was, the blond front-man was in a much better mood, in fact all the compliments and cheers put him in such a good disposition that when Scott returned with his Lemon Head honey, Ray just barely kept his invectives in check. It wasn't a great feat but Mo was nonetheless impressed that he didn't outright insult her.
His good mood reached Wen, who, being the nice guy that he was, wanted to congratulate the winning band.
"Hey Ray."
At the nod in acknowledgement, Wen continued, "Just wanted to say good job on winning Rising Star." Beside him, he could feel Olivia tense up, but saw the offered smile in agreement.
The usually jerk-ish blond was indeed in a good mood thanks to the win and nodded again, commenting, "Too bad about the eye there Ginger."
Wen self-consciously touched the black ring marring his pale face and waited for the slur on his appearance to come, when it didn't, he laughed nervously. "Yeah well, congrats again on the win." Olivia offered a nod and pretty much dragged Wen away in fear that Ray's vindictiveness would resurface and he'd take a cheap shot at the orange haired boy's injury.
Charlie was right behind the "sweetheart couple," as Ray had often heard them being called, and raised a brow at the Delgado kid with his bandaged hand and determined expression.
"Did you want something Delgado?"
"Yeah, yeah I do," he claimed, his tone getting the attention of the rest of Mudslide Crush who immediately flanked their front-man. Charlie visibly flinched.
"Whoa guys back it up, freshman isn't doing anything yet." The emphasis was an unspoken warning and Charlie agreed with a nod. "I just wanted to congratulate you and the band for winning Rising Star."
"Good, was that so hard Curly?"
He opened his mouth to reply but Dean, the biggest of Mudslide Crush sent a warning growl and Charlie quickly got the message and joined the moving crowd.
Most of the congratulations were over with, but still someone was missing.
Everyone in attendance had come to pay their dues to the winning band but of course she was nowhere in sight and Ray was starting to get impatient.
Eventually after subtly searching the crowd with his eyes, he spotted her sitting on a bench, carefully putting away her guitar. He counted to five and still she was busy with her instrument, taking her sweet time making sure it was safely in place. When she finally shut the case, she slid on the strap, stood up and walked out.
Wait.
What?
"Yo Yamada, get back here," he found himself shouting.
The half-Asian guitarist, the leading revolutionary of Lemonade Mouth and all out spitfire, Stella Yamada paused in the doorway of the exit, her brow arched in question. "Was there something you wanted Beech?"
With no one else backstage but a few people putting away instruments, Ray met her in the doorway and opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the girly scream of the Delgado kid.
Both teenagers turned at the sound to find Charlie being mugged by enthusiastic fan-girls. "HELP ME!"
"Damn it Charlie," Mo groaned, fighting her way through the crowd with Scott towing behind her.
Stella shook her head with a snicker. "Do the armadillo Charlie! Drop and duck!"
As soon as the order escaped her lips, the brunet did what he was told and immediately plopped onto the tarmac of the parking lot. His drop action was copied by his fans as they tried to snuggle up to him on the floor.
"HELP ME!" He pleaded loudly from underneath the impromptu dog-pile of female limbs.
Everyone that wasn't included in Charlie's fangirl predicament laughed.
"Grow a pair Delgado, they can smell fear," Ray informed with a snicker as the brunet tried to claw his way out of the mess of human body parts.
"Who's 'they' Beech?" Stella asked leaning against the doorframe and crossing her ankles as she settled to watch Charlie's futile attempts at escape. "Do you miss the obvious or are you trying to ignore all the girls trying to suffocate Curly over there?"
"His name is Charlie, Beech, get it right," she ordered turning to face him and jab a finger into his chest.
The blonde raised a brow
"Why so defensive Yamada? It isn't like I'm insulting the guy."
"Yeah well," she trailed giving him a look which Ray returned, his brow arching. "Calm down Yamada, I'm in too good a mood to start causing trouble until tomorrow," he claimed, removing her offending finger from his chest.
Stella rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the fact that her cheeks suddenly flushed with Ray's hand momentarily wrapped around hers. "So what do you want?"
"What do you mean?"
"You called me didn't you? So what do you want?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "You forgot something."
"Oh?" Her brow formed an arch, her hip cocked as she crossed her arms. "And what exactly would that be?" Her brown eyes met his, a near playful smile on her lips. Stella gazed at his saucily, her chin notched. The combined actions worried Ray. Since when did he find her attractive?
"I believe you owe me."
She snorted. "For what?"
"You don't remember do you?"
Her blank gaze met his and Ray gave a sigh of exasperation.
"You betted that you guys would win Rising Star, I betted otherwise. And who won exactly?"
Her brow twitched. "That bet was made a long time ago, hell; our band didn't even have a name yet!" But the realization dawned in her eyes and Ray knew she was grasping at straws for a way out of their wager.
Feigning ignorance for the bet would be stupid.
The two shook hands and gave their word. She remembered the bet all too well.
It was a few days after Lemonade Mouth's first meeting in detention. It was raining and she was sitting under the shelter of the bus stop. She hadn't known who he was yet, Stella was too busy being harassed by popular girls and nasally voiced teachers to notice his presence at school, but she had a general idea of who he was. Ray Beech was one of those popular guys who didn't have time for anyone but themselves, and looked down on anyone that wasn't in his social ranking.
He proved her wrong when he entered the bus stop shelter, drenched from head to toe.
He noticed her gaze and glared. "What are you looking at?"
She stared back defiantly. "A drenched cat."
Somehow that didn't lead to an argument but rather a huff as he shook his head to get rid of the water clinging to his gold locks. "Stupid Brenigan."
"Did you get detention or something?"
"No, but I would've preferred it," he claimed dropping himself on the bench beside her. "He was giving me the usual Mesa pride speech, what a load of bull."
Stella sniggered.
Conversation carried on lightly between them, all those rumors she heard about him being an asshole washed away in the rain, even when they got onto the topic of bands.
"My band's entering Rising Star this year, first time, and we're going to take it all," he claimed with a determined look in his ice blue eyes. Stella raised a brow and crossed her arms. "Huh, well my band's entering too, and we aren't going down without a fight."
"Oh?"
She nodded and at the look of disbelief on his face, she informed, "My band's amazing."
"And what are they called?"
"Uh…"
He shook his head at her, a smirk on his lips. "My band's been preparing for Rising Star since we formed in freshmen year. You can't just start a band and expect to win, it isn't practical."
Her face flushed and she retorted angrily, "Who cares about practical, I know we're good! God, I've had enough of people telling me what I can't and can do, I know my limits for Pete's sake, and I don't need to hear it from anyone else!"
Surprisingly he listened to her rant for another five minutes before she lapsed in silence to speak, "It's a goal at least, and you get props for aiming that high."
She grunted and looked away in annoyance.
"I'm not saying your band isn't any good," he began, "but what I'm saying is that my band isn't a pushover either."
At the obvious challenge in his voice, Stella turned to look at him. His blonde hair was sticking up again, it was all those times he ran his hand through his mane to get rid of the water. His eyes were a clear ocean of liquid sapphire. And he didn't wear a smirk, but an encouraging smile. He was trying. Something not many people did for her.
She felt herself return the gesture. "Good because I don't plan on winning a contest with a bunch of newbies, but I'll bet you that my band will win Rising Star."
"And I bet mine will," he claimed, his smirk back in place. "But what are the stakes?"
"You do anything I want when I win."
His smirk just got wider. "And when I win, the same goes to you."
Stella remembered that day well, if she were ever to cling to the hope that everyone had some good in them, this was one of those times. But because both teenagers were rather competitive, they kept their little agreement to themselves and worked their butts off to get to where they were. Unfortunately Mudslide Crush had experience on their side.
She heaved a sigh, glanced out the door where everyone was still laughing at Charlie's man-made dog-pile and looked back at Ray.
"Alright fine, what do you want Beech?"
Ray placed a mask of thoughtfulness on which made Stella roll her eyes.
"I want you to stand on a table at Dante's and shout how awesome I am."
"…you're kidding right?"
"Nope."
Stella heaved a sigh, more of relief than annoyance. She knew perfectly well how much of a bully the front-man could be and was rather thankful that his dare wasn't as cruel as she expected. "Alright deal."
(^^)
The crowd inside Dante's was large.
Practically overflowing and ripping from the seams.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Olivia asked as Lemonade Mouth pushed their way through the door and clung to her band-mates as the crowd pushed back defiantly.
"I gave my word Liv and I don't go back on my word."
"What if he wanted you to do something worse than this? I mean, he is Ray," Mo tried to dissuade. Stella rolled her eyes. "Mo if he wanted to do something worse he would've, I should be thankful it isn't embarrassing."
"Fangirl-ling him in public isn't embarrassing?" Charlie asked in disbelief.
"Oh yeah, like being under a fangirl dog-pile was any better," she retorted with a roll of her eyes.
"Does he have to be here when you say it?"
"Of course Wen, how'd he know I'd do it otherwise?"
"This is the twenty first century Stell," Olivia reminded, "this is going on FaceBook and you know it."
Stella groaned while Wen patted her on the shoulder in sympathy. "You know what they say Stell, humiliation lasts a moment but the internet is forever."
The half-Asian rolled her eyes.
"Go play in traffic Gifford."
He grinned. "Yes ma'am."
They managed to push further into their favorite hangout spot where the middle was somewhat clear of people, mainly because the Mudslide Crush crew reserved it and everyone else was gathering around it like a bunch of bugs to light.
Ray was in the middle of drinking a can of soda when he spotted the guitarist of the rival band.
"Look who we got here," his announcement was barely above a shout, but everyone quieted at it and turned to stare at the band.
"What is up with this place, did you guys hijack Dante's for your little fanclub meeting?" Stella couldn't help but ask as some of the girls glared at her.
"Maybe," the blonde answered with a casual shrug and smirk. "You wanted to say something didn't you?"
She sighed, but kept her eyes level with his. "Yeah."
"Alright then," Ray offered her a hand so she could climb up the table he sat at. He kept at her side, an almost shit-eating smirk on his face. "Let's hear it Yamada."
Her band was thankfully still only a few feet away. They refused to be pushed back by Ray's horde of admirers and stood supportively before her. Stella dared to take a look around Dante's Pizzeria to find the entire restaurant staring at her. She felt like she was going to be dissected.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Stella tried to find a way to calm her breathing so her voice wouldn't shake.
Ray noticed this.
He would probably deny it later, but he didn't like this nervous Stella. Stella Yamada was a rockstar, fearless and kickass. She did not do fidgeting and voice cracking. It wasn't her. That wasn't his Stella.
The blonde almost face palmed. Shit.
He couldn't make her embarrass herself. The dejected look she wore when her band was in the process of being booed off the stage at Rising Star made him want to beat the crap out of everyone who dared to make his girl upset. If it wasn't for Scott's intervention Ray was sure he would've.
The thought that no one would likely come to her rescue this time made him sick and before he knew it, he was standing beside her atop the table.
"Stella?"
"What?" she whispered back; feeling nervous at how close his breath was to her ear and how her insides were suddenly quivering in anticipation. "You're off the hook."
"What?" she demanded in alarm. "No, I lost, I have to do it."
Ray was torn between rolling his eyes and smirking at her stubbornness even when he was trying to help her. "I just wanted an ego boast Yamada."
"And winning Rising Star wasn't enough?" Stella demanded still in a whisper. He rolled his eyes. "Not if you don't acknowledge it. Seriously, you win a freaking record contract and you still ignore me. Come on."
She fought the blush off well.
He was trying to get her to pay attention to him?
"What would you do that for?"
His blue eyes rolled in annoyance. "I'd love to say this better, but without all that flowery bullshit the bottom line is: I like you. Now you don't have to like me because I've never given you a reason to, but I won't make you embarrass yourself."
Stella huffed, her mind buzzing five million light years per hour despite it.
"I'm keeping my word," she informed him, loud enough for everyone to hear, turning to the silent audience of teenagers before them. Ray shook his head, muttering, "Why is she so stubborn?"
"So here's the deal," Stella began, her nervousness gone and her usual spunk and confidence shining through with her cheerful smile, "I get that all of you think that I hate Ray and he hates me right?"
There was a murmur of agreement.
Of course there would be.
Whenever they ran into each other they'd start a fight.
Both somehow had a mutual agreement that they'd take their frustration and stress out on each other. They just did it. Stella guessed it was because it was the aftereffect of their competitiveness. Ray knew it was because it was the only way he could talk to her especially when everyone just assumed they hated each other.
"Well guess what, we don't."
Both teenagers could practically see the flying question marks around the room as murmurings started again.
"In fact," throwing her thumb in Ray's direction somewhat behind her, she continued, "I actually like this loser."
The crowd got louder. What-the-hells flew left, right and center. And Ray could say nothing to stop it. He was still processing the last part.
"Well too bad Yamada," Patty shouted, "Ray doesn't like you!"
"Yeah, you're delusional Yamada," another one of the front-man's admirers claimed. Everyone now turned to look at the blond soccer player standing beside her on top of the table.
"Hey who are you calling loser? I won remember?" Ray finally said when his brain finally caught up.
Stella rolled her eyes. "Oh don't remind me, it was only because my band got sick. You know, I'm actually thinking of calling this bout of bad luck the Beech Plague."
"Now who's the sore loser Yamada?" He challenged with a smirk, inwardly proud of himself for involuntarily causing something as convenient as a combined wave of bad luck on the rival band. "Well if I complimented you your head would've got bigger," she informed him.
"I'm sorry but don't you owe me? I mean, I did win our bet."
She gave a loud, dramatic sigh. "Fine, you want an ego boast? I'll give you an ego boast."
Before anyone could even begin to rant the absurdness of the biggest tyrant of Mesa and the biggest revolutionary from Long Island actually 'liking' each other, Stella turned to face the blue-eyed front-man grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pressed her lips against his.
The explosion of the crowd was louder than when the winners of Rising Star were named.
"Oh man," Scott complained, slapping a hand over his eyes with a groan. "If his head wasn't big enough already, Ray's just got the size of Jupiter."
"Better than Uranus," Charlie muttered.
"Did you say something Delgado?"
"Heh, no…nothing."
FINIS
So there it is! Special thanks to DramaQueen for inspiring me to write this!
This story was for The Resistance of Cygnus, who wanted a request story for Rayella. You weren't specific with what you wanted in the story so I figured that anything would be good right? (I hope?)
Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed my very recent stories, one of which was a rant for Rayella VS Starlie. I dare all Starlie fans to read it…no seriously, I want to know what the Starlies think about my first ever rant fic: A matter of opinion.
Thanks for reading this really long one-shot of mine!
Please leave me a line if you can!
Ella Lavender