This is my first fanfic/story/whatever the hell you wanna call it. So, please, go easy on me! :D
Disclaimer: I do not own Jackson Rathbone, 100 Monkeys, or anyone else in this story
"Hurry up, Carly," I muttered under my breath. I'd been waiting in the pouring rain outside of the Mint for what seemed like an eternity. Standing under a small cardboard box sized amount of shelter, I kept my hand close to the wall, trying as much as possible to keep my cigarette dry. I took another drag and reluctantly shivered, feeling defeated by the chill. "It's been 20 minutes, what the hell is she doing?" I mumbled in frustration. I didn't even want to go to this stupid concert. There was another squeak in the hinges of the door. My heart sank with disappointment and my frustration rose when I saw another gaggle of tweens filter through, gushing about "how hot Jackson Rathbone's hair looked". There was a cluster of "ohmigods" and "like totally" before the tweens and their squeals of excitement faded around the corner and disappeared into the night. I was alone again. It was nearly silent other than the rain pounding on the concrete. My once flawless make-up was now melting and bleeding into what I could only describe as something resembling the Joker.
Finally, I forfeited my battle to keep dry under the complete lack of shelter. I quickly stubbed my cigarette into the overly littered ashtray to my left and turned to make my way back inside. I turned to the right heading for the bathroom to find Carly. Once I got there, however, I realized that all of the stalls were empty. Oh, great! I thought. Now, where'd she go? I stumbled over to the mirror, finally remembering how much I had to drink earlier. I turned on the cold water and attempted to wash some of the running make-up from my face.
When I was finally satisfied with my appearance, I left the bathroom to continue my quest for Carly. I stood outside the bathroom, collecting my thoughts. If I were an obsessed fan, where would I be? I thought. I finally decided that she must be trying to get backstage. Realizing the few possible places she could be, I stumbled over to the double doors leading to the main concert area. I reach for the handle and….THUMP! I the door smacked me dead in the face, knocking me on my ass.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" I shouted. "Watch where the hell you're going!"
"Shit!" said a male voice. "I'm so sorry, lemme help you up."
"It's fine, I got it," I mumbled rubbing my sore head. Despite my protest, I felt arms wrap around my waist and my feet clumsily dangle as I was hoisted up from the dirty floor. I dusted myself off and gave my head a final rub. "Yep," I said. "That's gonna leave a mark." I let go of my head and finally faced my swinging door assailant. It was him. THE Jackson Rathbone. The one every girl here was making such a fuss about.
"I really am sorry," he repeated.
"It's ok," I said hesitantly. "I'd have run into the door without your help anyway."
"You sure?" he asked. "At least, let me get you some ice for the swelling."
"Sure," I replied. "I guess." He led me through the double doors, careful not to be a repeat offender. As we walked, I just stared, sizing him up. So this is the famous Jackson Rathbone…. I don't get it, I thought. I guess he's kinda cute in that dirty hippie kinda way but still…
"Are you feeling dizzy at all?" he asked with the utmost concern.
"Please," I said, brushing off his concern. "My own clumsiness has made me immune to most pain." I heard a chuckle escape from his lips as he shook his head. As he led me to the backstage area in silence, he decided to finally pipe up and say something.
"So," he began. "I don't think I ever introduced myself. I'm—"
"Jackson?" I interrupted. "Come on, dude. I am at your band's show after all"
"Huh… I guess you're right," was all he could manage."
"I'm Monica"
"Nice to meet you," he said smiling. Some more time passed in silence as we made our way through yet another door. Jackson was, yet again, especially careful not to hit my head again. "So did you enjoy the show, then?" he asked finally.
"It was okay," I said gruffly. I didn't have the heart to tell him I was really only tagging along with Carly.
"Just okay?" he seemed surprised and a little hurt. "Wow! I guess we should practice more!"
"No, it's not you," I defended. "I actually came here with a friend. She's the one who is obsessed with your band."
"Well," he sighed. "We can't please 'em all, I guess."
"I'm sorry," I frowned. "I can be such an ass sometimes. It was actually a good show. Not what I was expecting from Jasper Cullen, but good."
"Hey! I'm not on 'Twilight' duty!" he playfully argued. "Don't pull out the vampire card!"
"Sorry," I giggled. "I couldn't resist." I shrugged my shoulders. He chuckled again. I was growing fonder of his laugh by the minute. The more we talked, the more I could see why girls went ga-ga over him. The smile, the hair, those bright, playful green eyes, and not to mention the fact that he was so damn charming is no wonder why he made them all swoon. I, however, was still determined to stand my ground and not succumb to the Jackson Rathbone plague.
"So what about you?" he asked.
"What about me?"
"What do you do?"
"I teach"
"Oh, really? What do you teach?"
"I teach for a Special Needs Class"
"Wow, really? That must take a lot of patience"
"Yeah, at first, but those kids are incredible once you get to know them. It's ironic, but they end up teaching me a lot more than I think I could ever teach them"
"Somehow I doubt that. You seem like you got a lot to say"
"I do, but that's not always a good thing," I chuckled. "I got a mouth on me, and it usually gets me into a heap of trouble."
"Yeah, I figured that after your little episode. You swear like a friggin' sailor!" he chuckled.
"Well if you hadn't come barreling through the door like a damn Neanderthal we wouldn't be in this predicament, would we?"
"Ok, ok, you got me there," he laughed again. We finally stopped in an area with a mini fridge where he found an ice pack. He motioned to place it on my now swollen head, but stopped suddenly. "Shit, you're bleeding a little," he said. "I'll be right back." He left the room and quickly returned with a rag and a box of bandages. I sat very still as he cleaned my battle wound and made small talk. Not a moment too soon, I was cleaned up and good as new.
"Well," I hesitated, "I best be on my way. Carly's probably freaking out by now." I slowly made my way to the door when he called out.
"Hey, hold on a minute. Why don't you and your friend hang out for a bit?"
"I don't think you wanna do that."
"Why not?"
"Well, while I am not a crazed, obsessed fan, Carly is. I wouldn't wanna put you through that. She screams at an octave that only bats and small dogs can tolerate!"
"Well, lemme get your phone number, unless that would upset your boyfriend," he said sheepishly.
"Smooth, Jackson, real smooth, but sadly…. No boyfriend."
"Really? Why not?"
"Umm, because I don't want one? Why do you seem so shocked?"
"I don't know. I just thought someone would've snagged a girl like you a long time ago."
"Again, very smooth…" I giggled before turning to walk away. Jackson grabbed me by the arm and stopped me.
"Hey, wait," he said. "You never gave me your phone number."
"I never said I would…"
"Oh, well…uhhh, I…"
"Jackson, I'm kidding" I couldn't help but giggle. "Got a pen?" He reached into the pocket of his leather coat, pulling out a pen and handing it to me. I scribbled my phone number down on his hand and returned the pen. "It was nice meeting you Jackson," I said before turning to leave.
"Nice to meet you, too," he replied. I could almost feel his eyes on me as I walked out of the room. Just to make sure, I turned my head slightly as I opened the door leading to the concert area. When the door closed behind me, I pulled out my phone to try and call Carly. She can't still be MIA I thought. I looked down at my phone to see that I had 12 missed calls and eight new text messages. At least, I knew she was ready to go. I finally found my way back to the double doors and a very impatient Carly waiting beside them.
"Where the hell have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you!" Oh, was she pissed!
"Me? I waited outside for you to stop being a stalker for almost an hour! I finally tried to come looking for you when some jackass smacked a door in my face."
"Holy shit! Are you okay?"
"Yeah I'm good. Minor bloodshed, but all is well."
"So did you ever get to meet your 'Rockstar Gods'?"
"No," she frowned. "You ready to go?"
"Yeah, let's get the hell outta here and finish that bottle of Captain at home." We walked through the double doors as I contemplated whether or not to tell her about meeting Jackson.
So? yeah, I know it starts out kinda corny, I guess...
I promise it will get better!