Part II: Would You Rather…?
a/n: Okay, seeing as you guys decided to grace this LAME, BARELY-TALENTED, JONAS-CRAZY writer with 29 reviews (the most I've ever gotten for a single-chapter story), I suppose I can give you another chapter. But only because you begged. Literally. So, this is entirely Macy's point of view, kind of going back a little. Don't worry, you'll recognize when it connects to the last chapter. :)
Dedication: Sweetgalsab, ink-stained-frenzy, and secretfunnelcake. These three wonderful ladies all mentioned Joe and Macy's crazy car trip, so they won the secret contest and each get to be the love interest of the boy of their choice in some new fics.
Ink-stained-frenzy, if you could e-mail me or send me a PM with your e-mail information, I can talk to you about your prize.
Additionally, I'm challenging each of these girls to write about Macy answering the Would-You-Rather questions at the end of this chapter. :D
So, here's the deal: I hate flying. HATE it. HATE it with an ungodly passion. Put me in a car, on a train, in a boat, on horseback. ANYTHING but a plane. But, of course, if I wanted to get to the West Coast in time to join the JONAS tour, I was going to have to climb on a flying metal deathtrap.
If this goes down in a flaming inferno, I thought bitterly as I sunk into my seat, perfectly aware that I was being redundant, I am going to MURDER Stella Malone.
Because that was who I blamed. If it had been my choice, I would have paid JONAS-heads across the world to record the shows for me. But when Stella found out that it was going to be the first summer tour to go global in two years, she pitched a fit.
"I can't leave Macy all alone in the States! I need another girl around to keep me sane! And besides, she's always followed the tour on her own and that's just too expensive now! Remember how much fun we had last year? She's got to come!"
So that was that.
Now, if it hadn't been for my idiot, cheating grandfather, I would have been able to see all five starter shows in the US. Instead, I missed three because my mom had to drive down to Illinois to save her parents' marriage for the twentieth time since I was twelve, leaving me to manage the store until I could find a replacement. Fred, life-saver that he is, agreed to do the job and even worked Thursday and Friday for me so that I could have time to pack and relax. Of course, I couldn't relax at all because I was too worried about having to get on a FREAKING PLANE. So I ended up making updates to the site and answering the Would-You-Rather game that Fred had cajoled me into looking at.
I'll admit that I revealed way too much about my relationship with the guys, because I had two hundred e-mails from JONAS-heads when I checked my e-mail in Tokyo. Half of them were asking for details about last year's tour—the other hundred were asking about my relationship with Nick.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Stella worked with the boys' dad to get me a plane ticket that would take me to their final show in the US for the first leg of the trip, all the way in California. I was already pissed that she'd whined and pleaded to bring useless me on another trip, but I was livid when I found out that she'd booked a first class seat. I tried to exchange for a less expensive ticket, but all of the coach seats were filled and the next flight wouldn't get me to Sacramento in time. So I was stuck owing the Lucas's yet another unnecessary expense. What's worse is that I couldn't even get a cell signal until my anger had died down from exhaustion.
I fell asleep with my phone clutched in my hand.
-
"Ooh; this is an S.O.S.—don't wanna second guess, this is the bottom line," my phone sang, waking me from my nap. "It's true; I gave my all for you—"
"Joe, I'm going to kill you," I mumbled sleepily into the phone. "Right after I kill Stella. Or maybe I'll just tell her you spilled grape juice on your clothes for tonight."
"Hey," said a voice that wasn't Joe.
"You're not Joe," I told him, trying to rub the sleep from my eyes.
"No, it's not Joe," said the person that clearly wasn't Joe. I could hear a smile on the voice and that's why it took me so long to recognize it.
"Nick?" I asked incredulously. I could practically hear his smile growing. "Why…?"
"I tricked him out of his phone," Nick said. I fought a giggle at that.
"So you tricked Joe out of his phone to call me at…" I glanced at my watch. It said six, but I hadn't reset it yet. "Three in the morning?"
"Yeah."
For some reason, this sounded familiar. But why…?
"Is there a reason you woke me up at three in the morning?" I asked as I patted down my hair.
"Yeah," Nick said with a chuckle. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Are you still in the air?"
"I'd better hope so," I said, sitting up straighter in my seat. "Are you waiting in Sacramento?"
"Yeah, Big Man told us your flight was getting in at four." As I was about to reply, I heard a small commotion on the other end. "Kevin, could you restrain Joe?" I heard Nick say, slightly muffled. "I tricked him fair and square and now he's just being a dwonk."
I giggled and then yawned, squeaking a little. Once again, I heard that unfamiliar smile on his voice.
"Sorry, Mace," he apologized. "I won't keep you for long. I just wanted to tell you that I went to your website."
I couldn't help a squeal of delight. "So you saw the article? What'd you think? I know it wasn't that great, but—"
"It was an amazing article, Mace," Nick said. "I can't wait to see what you come up with once you're on tour." I beamed with pride, but the expression slowly faded from my face with his next words. "After I was done reading the article, I surfed around a bit. There are some, ah, interesting things in the forums…"
I swallowed. "The forums?"
"Yeah, I found out quite a bit about our fans."
"Okay, Nick, the thing that you have to understand is that most of there girls are just fans saying things. Kidnapping plots are just depraved jokes and I can't do much to contain certain perverted members—"
"Kidnapping plots? There have been kidnapping plots?"
Oh. So he hadn't found the 'Let's Kidnap Nick Lucas' thread?
"I swear it was a joke and I've already reprimanded the people who started it. Next time, they get their accounts frozen," I told him. Nick chuckled and I frowned. He wasn't upset about the kidnapping plot? Because the Nick I knew would be freaking out. He'd want to call the police. He'd be using the word 'fracking' excessively (Stargate SG-1 poisoned his mind, I swear). All of a sudden, I got a very bad sinking feeling in my chest. I smiled nervously and said in the sweetest voice I could muster, "Um, Nick…?"
"Yes, Macy?" he replied, just as sweetly.
Oh, dear. That wasn't good.
I swallowed. "Why do I feel like I'm in trouble for something?"
"I don't know, Macy. Would you rather explain what makes me 'poor Nick' or how you supposedly 'don't have a reason to be here' first?" he said, all sweetness gone from his voice. "Or would you rather tell me why you would have Joe and Kevin fight for your attention?"
I winced. "The Would-You-Rather Game. Great."
"Start explaining, please."
"Are you sure you don't want to wait until we're face-to—"
"Macy." I could feel his glare through the phone. I shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold plane and my paper-thin airline blanket.
"Okay, okay!" I conceded. "I just… I feel useless. Stella runs around making you guys look good and your dad worries and manages the business end of things and your mom and Frankie are there for support and Big Man is your protection… but what am I there for? If there's a real reason for me to be there, besides the fact that I'm a fan and a friend and it's a 'dream come true' for me, I haven't found it yet."
Nick was silent for several moments and I was beginning to worry our call had been dropped in the middle of my mini-monologue when he finally answered.
"You really don't know?" he asked. His voice was gentle and quiet and a little hurt, but I had no earthly idea why. When I didn't answer, he sighed. "Maybe you're right." My heart jumped up into my throat. "Maybe this should wait until we're face-to-face."
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Nick, I—"
"I'll talk to you in an hour or so, okay?"
With a click, he was gone. I stared at the phone, at Joe's name flashing briefly in front of my eyes before it went back to my home screen—a JONAS wallpaper. Kevin was front and center, so it was a rare thing. A simple cover-up (because in my mind, it was the snapshot that I used for the background on my big grey monster at home, a nearly-impossible-to-find picture of Nick, smiling wide).
My brow furrowed. What exactly had I said to upset him so much? I just told the truth—same as when I answered those stupid questions online. Frowning, I pulled my laptop out of my bag and connected to the airline's internet. After a few moments of searching, I found my post with my answers for the Would-You-Rather Game. The further I scrolled, the clearer the memories became. My cheeks burned when I realized just how far I'd gone while answering the questions.
Any casual reader could tell I had a crush on Nick just by skimming my answers. It was embarrassingly obvious and was made all the worse by the fact that any JONAS-head could see it. And when I saw my last response—good God, I just about died.
"Or would you rather tell me why you would have Joe and Kevin fight for your attention?"
Oh, so Nick had read that one, too. Wonderful.
"Excuse me, Ms. Misa?" said a quiet voice over my shoulder. I turned to see a flight attendant smiling down at me. "We're about to land, so you should probably put your computer away."
"Oh, sorry," I said, responding on reflex. Then I blinked and laughed. "I mean, thank you. I'll pack it up right away."
The woman nodded and moved off to inform other passengers as I closed up my things. I turned to look out the window for what was probably the first time since take-off and immediately sank back into my seat. Apparently, 'about to land' didn't mean we were any closer to the ground, at least visibly. Fighting the sick that was climbing up my throat, I tried to focus on what awaited me when I stepped off the plane.
It didn't make me feel any better.
-
Getting off the plane was relief like I had never known. We'd hit a patch of bad turbulence coming in—I seriously thought I was going to die. The only thing running through my mind was that if I survived, I was going to give Stella Malone a well-deserved punch in the face. And if I didn't, I would haunt her for the rest of her natural life, and THEN spend the rest of eternity making her feel guilty for causing my death.
Because I still blamed her.
It was such a relief to get off the plane and I was so intent on murdering Stella that my conversation with Nick had been blown completely out of my mind. My body remembered, however, because it locked up the second I saw that curly head of hair. While I dropped my bags and my mouth yelled "Nick!" my stomach did flip-flops and loop-de-loops and tied itself in knots and other things that stomachs shouldn't actually be able to do. Although I was grinning, my legs were locked in place and I couldn't actually move. While I wondered why I felt sick to my stomach, the boy turned around. His eyes met mine and—bam!
I remembered. He smiled wide and crossed the terminal at a fast pace. I still couldn't move. My grin was frozen in place. He was less than ten feet away and I could feel my heart pumping. What was going to happen? What was he going to say? Why was he smiling like that, if I was still in trouble?
His arms reached out and I was pulled against him in a tight hug, much to my confusion. I stammered, "N-Nick—?"
But he didn't answer me. He just gave me a squeeze and slowly pulled away. He was starting to scare me a little, because this was definitely not what I was expecting. One of his hands brushed hair out of my face and the other took mine and guided it up to his head. My fingers brushed his hair and my breath caught in my throat.
I was still thoroughly confused, but that didn't seem to matter anymore. I was touching Nick's hair—what was more, he had invited me to, actually pulling my hand up to let me touch it. My fingers curled tentatively around the strands and I watched in awe as his eyes closed and he leaned into my hand. If the idea weren't crazy, I would almost think—
All thoughts were scattered when his hand suddenly abandoned mine in his hair and found my waist, while the other that had managed to curl around my ear shifted to the back of my head. Before I could muster the words to ask him what he was doing, his lips came crashing down on mine.
I squeaked with surprise and my first instinct was to pull away. I managed to break the kiss, but only for a moment, because his mouth immediately sought mine again after we'd parted. He was urgent and desperate and although I couldn't say that I didn't feel the same, he was really scaring me.
"Nick," I tried to say past his lips. "What—?"
He pulled away for the barest moment. "Sorry," he murmured, kissing me again after. "I thought that I—" Another kiss. "—could handle—" Now he was kissing my cheek and face, tracing my jaw with his lips before returning to my mouth. "—myself. But I—" He growled, presumably at himself and his inability to speak, and dragged his face away from mine. My hand fell from his curls and rested on his shoulder. "As soon as I felt your fingers in my hair, I just…"
"Nick," I said shakily. "What are you talking about? I don't—before now… There weren't any signs, no clues—"
"No clues?" He extracted his hand from my hair and used it to stroke and then cradle my cheek. "I called you at three in the morning to tell you I read your article; I let you read and listen to my unfinished songs; your pouty face doesn't even work on Kevin anymore and yet I can't say no when you put on the puppy-dog eyes."
"Oh," I said. I blinked. "That—that makes sense." Nick smiled down at me and leaned in again, but I stopped him with a hand on his chest. "You still haven't explained why I'm here. Why I'm on tour with you."
He sighed. "Do you remember the first show we did last year, the one in Jersey?" I nodded. "It was your first time backstage, so you wouldn't know the difference, but my dad was so… relaxed that night. Your breathing exercises calmed him down so much that I was starting to get scared. I'd never seen him like that, especially not before a show. Stella wasn't fussing over the tiniest little wrinkles—she even laughed when Joe spilled water on his shirt between songs. Normally, she would have shrieked and demanded he change into one of her back-up outfits."
"So… I calm everyone down?" I wrinkled my nose.
"You make it possible for everyone to enjoy themselves. You took care of the excitement backstage and we were all so busy watching you that we forgot to feel nervous," Nick said. He kissed my forehead and I blushed. "And you broke the boredom between shows. The DDR competitions and the McDonald's adventures and the thumb wars and the Live Journal Theatres… I don't know how we made it through the tours before last summer."
My face was a flaming red and I had to shake my head. "You make me sound so important, but you don't really need me there. Your tours were always great before and you didn't have me then."
"You are important, Mace," he told me. "At least to me, you are." Before I could stop him, he swooped down and kissed me on the lips. "In case you haven't guessed yet, I love you."
And with those three words, I melted. A simple, "Oh," passed from my lips and my eyes filled with tears. My hand slid up from his chest to find the back of his neck so I could pull him down to kiss me again. He responded eagerly, smiling against my mouth. When we had to break apart, he was still grinning like a maniac.
"Would you rather continue this on the bus or make them all sweat over how late we are?" Nick asked. I laughed and picked up my bags, hooking my arm through his.
-
Subject: RE: The Would-You-Rather Game!
Author: mayseemgraceLESS
Hello from Tokyo, everybody! :)
So, remember how I said that if any of the boys saw my answers, I'd blame you guys? :P Guess what.
In honor of all the positive response I got with my answers (from both you and the boys), I decided to gift you with some more questions to mull over. Think carefully before you answer—you never know who might be looking at your responses! :D
Would you rather…
1. Force Joe or Nick to hold your purse in a store?
2. Listen to Paranoid or Got Me Going Crazy until your ears bleed?
3. Lose a competition against the insufferable Joe or win against the sensitive Kevin?
4. Have JONAS read your diary or your posts on the justenoughjonas forums?
5. Have Nick or Kevin comfort you while you cried?
6. Find out that Frankie let you win at speed chess or have him DEMOLISH you in front of all of your friends?
7. Plan the JONAS schedule with Mr. Lucas or help Mrs. Lucas clean for three days?
8. Go to a movie premier with Joe or on a walk in the park with Kevin?
9. Go to the beach with JONAS and associated parties and be the only one burned—or the only one not?
10. Get guitar lessons from Kevin or piano lessons from Nick?
END
a/n: Sooo… what do you think? :D I spent a lot of time trying to make this work. I hope that the ending isn't too similar to my other story, Halloween; I just thought that this would be a good way to include my questions.
And YES, I made all of the new questions up myself. If you'd like to answer them or put them up on your profile, go ahead. Actually, I'd love to see some responses to these in fanfiction form. Feel free to write it whatever way you please—Macy having to go through the actions, or writing a response on her own forums, or even her just daydreaming in her room. Whatever you're inspired to write.
I've got some new ideas and I'm working on some old ones, but for now I promise nothing. Get ready for some slower times, folks. I'm trying, but I can't guarantee that I'll have anything for you soon. And besides, it's unfair to Hayley to put her through all this work when she's got her own things to do. :)
Much, much, much, MUCH love!
Babs
