Jeez chapter 10 already? This must be a milestone or something! I love you guys! I tried really hard to get this chapter out as soon as I could! I really want to thank:
Tommy4eva ((I thought all my other Jommy moments were in normal places and I was like 'hmmm... what would be weird.' lol!))
Latisha C ((I love the sound of Special Angent Jude, Mission: Cock Block! lol, there's some more Jommy, but not in a bathroom this chapter lol!))
Duddley111 ((thank you! I hope you like this one too!))
VilandraofAntar ((I'm a bum time a thousand, I find nothing special in running for no reason. And I'm about to quote 50 Cent, please forgive me but... I love you like a fat kid loves cake lol. I am so weird))
CJMJM ((Oh my God, you are SO not predicatble, I've gotten through a few chapters of Unexpected and I love it! I'm preparing a nice long review for when I get completely caught up! Say hello to your neighbors for me lol!))
smileon ((No way! I didn't think anyone read it on the IS site and then I forgot my password and I was sad! I'm so glad you found it again and that you still like it!))
Beauty in the Breakdown21 ((for the sake of all fangirls everywhere, find his name and marry him! If there were ever a team I would join it would have to be lalala, I think the others would kick me off anyway. Or I could just work at the coffee both at these sproting events these imginary teams must do... I can't think of anysports lol))
iamthatplace ((I updated especially so no deaths would occur over fanfiction lol! I'm so glad you like the story, your review was so sweet! It made me smile for like an hour and my mom was like 'are you high' and then I laughed at her lol!))
You guys totally kicked my ass into gear with this chapter! I have finals all next week and I will be going into hibernating mode this weeked, but I will try to write, promise! This chapter starts where the last one ended, in the car and stuff and goes to the photo shoot. There's some French dialouge with Tommy and a hair dresser and Super Instant Star points to whoever can translate it. They mean nothing in the real world, but they count here where all things Instant Star is whorshipped lol. Ok, I'm finished, on with the story!
Disclaimer ((I forgot this last time so it counts for both)): I still do not own anything.
Chapter 10: Rock Me Amadeus
I felt Tommy glowering at him from behind me and I felt like smacking Liam so hard that his flesh-eating teeth fly out.
"Shuddup Liam. Go have some more sex with Hooters girls." I said quietly.
Except it wasn't that quiet and we were in a small space. I think he heard me because he nearly flipped me the bird. I saw him lift his hand, poised to raise his middle finger and then Jamie whimpered from near him.
"Mr. Andrews? Something the matter." Liam asked pompously. Yea, he's probably remembering your hairy ass.
"No but… could you not look at me?"
HA! That is entertaining! I snorted obnoxiously, hoping to salt Liam's ego wound when a sharp pang reminded me I never got the chance to pee. I've had to for like… an hour and a half!
"I havta pee."
"Can't you wait?" E.J. asked me while her face was plastered to a cell phone. E.J., you have a problem.
If there were no electricity I can just see E.J. knitting and enjoying peaceful existence… while cats clawed at her face.
"No I can not." I said and squirmed uncomfortably. I felt Tommy laugh against me and I looked over sharply.
"Shut up. Or I'll pee all over you." I warned. He sobered and scooted away from me.
"You wouldn't." He started.
"Maybe not, but I'd punch you." I told him menacingly. Well I thought I was menacing, but Tommy didn't because he just laughed and looked out the window at New York.
Whore… Man whore. I don't understand why people don't take me seriously when I say I'll punch them. I will. Hugh McManus III can attest to that. In grade 8 he got dared to ask me if I was a firecrotch.
(Even though I think Mc-Manly-Manus dared himself to ask me that.)
I was standing outside the doors of school; waiting for my mom to come and pick me up with this red-faced kid from my Science class came up to me. "Hey Jude." He started.
Strike one.
"Ashley and I were playing Truth or Dare." He continued.
Strike two; I hated Ashley since she told me in fourth grade that Cartoon Network is for stupid people.
"And we want to know if you're a… firecrotch."
Strike three, loser.
I stared at him for like twenty seconds before my fist was flying at his stupid, ugly, stupid face. I made his lips bleed and when he started to cry I laughed even harder. I really think there's something the matter with me. But God, I hated that kid. He was a douche bag, and not even a good-looking douche bag, which is worse. Ugly and mean, bad combination. I had legitimate reasons to hate him.
But I always seem to be laughing when someone gets hurt, especially when I do the hurting.
Once when Jamie and I were at the farm, we were like 11, and I shoved him into a patch of poison ivy and he had this enormous allergic reaction. It was crazy; his legs were all red and the got really puffy so it looked like he had gained abnormal patches of fat. And he had scabs up his legs, from when he itched at them like his was on fire.
Or like that lady on House who had the sleep sickness and she hallucinated and thought these bugs were crawling out of her skin and like feasting on her. That was so scary and so gross. I almost cried. But whatever. Didn't it turn out that she was cheating on her husband with his running partner and he told Cameron that he sorta hoped she wouldn't get better because that meant she cheated on him? Then we find out Cameron's dark past. Whatever.
When we got back to school, Jamie was telling everyone that he got in a fight with a homeless man in the woods when we were at the farm. And he told everyone that he had to protect me and slept in my bedroom the whole weekend because I was scared and it made me mad so I kicked him really hard. Except my foot kinda dragged all the way down his leg and I opened the scabs from his itching and he bled all over his bright white socks. He kinda deserved it but that was kinda mean of me. It was even meaner when I started to laugh though.
Which brings me full circle back to my point: There is something wrong with me.
The annoyance intensified and with every bump we hit I felt like I was going to cry. It was starting to be worse than the one time I saw Elizabethtown and I had this huge Icee and I drank the whole thing in twenty minutes (and I had a blue tongue for a week). The whole movie I was getting up and crawling over these people to go to the bathroom but they were getting really pissed off at me.
I guess I was blocking their view of Orlando Bloom the whole time. But really. He was sexy in Pirates of the Caribbean, otherwise I find him…greasy. And it's not like he wasn't going to show up on the screen at least a thousand more times, I wasn't really making them miss much. People are stupid.
We passed over an outstanding pothole and I whimpered in pain and I looked over at Darius seriously, the threat of me peeing all over the floor much more eminent. He stare back at me for a blank moment and then reached across me and rasped on the little divider thing between the driver and us.
Those things always scare me because I'm always worried that one day I'm gonna get kidnapped. And… I pushed down on the smooth button, revealing the back of his uniform, company hat.
"Excuse me, sir? I thought it was the other way."
"Sorry Miss Harrison, you'll be going to a different kind of shoot." He turned to look at me and laugh manically before open fire on the whole back seat with a gun taken right off the set of The Godfather.
Jeez, I'm irrational.
"I got fifty bucks that crying girl pisses all over pretty boy." Pasty announced.
Is she drunk?
Did she snort something that made her forget my name?
"Anyone got a cup?" She asked loudly. Pasty looked around as Jamie sat up from his slouch to look at her seriously.
"What for?"
"Come on Jimmy, don't you like it a little kinky?"
OH MY GOD! STOP THIS CAR! LET ME OUT!
I turned around, crossing my legs furiously and smashing my knuckles white against the black metal. No one can keep me in here. There has to be something unlawful about it. Seriously.
The car came a screeching halt outside a gas station and I flew out of the car without a second thought. I rushed into the building, the normally tinkling bell clanged furiously behind me and I plowed to the register.
"Can I please have your bathroom key?" I asked desperately. I looked around me and saw a particularly scary looking lady staring me down with a growl in her throat and a cigarette in her mouth. Oh Jesus. I bet she wouldn't even think twice if she put that out on my face. "Please!" I pleaded.
"Only if he sings for me." The butch lady from behind the counter told me and pointed behind me.
What? Who is he and why would I have control over he. I whipped my head around desperately and saw Tommy standing there. Oh my God, does he think he's that weird frog thing that helps kids pee?
I can do it too! With Kando!
I think the frog's name is Kando but it still creeps me out into an oblivion. Dateline should totally monitor Kando's Internet activities. Even though he's an animated frog, but whatever.
"Yea sure, he'll sing." I told her urgently and snatched the key away from her and jetted off for the door.
I ran full force towards the back of the building towards the bathroom and I could hear Spied laughing at me from the side of the car. Butt hole.
I jumbled the key into the lock and was met with the strong smell of pee. If I thought the boy's room at the airport was bad, I was sheltered. No one should ever have to smell this. I feel like someone died while they were peeing and the smell of piss and decomposition was mixing viciously. Just for me.
I layered the seat with toilet paper and stooped as I thought of all the things I did that would make me deserve this. I was drawing a blank.
I hadn't killed anyone.
I hadn't stolen anyone's boyfriend.
I hadn't… well that was about as far as I got. After that I would just be lying to myself. I finished as quickly as I could, feeling like those people that walk around their daily lives with masks because of pollution or whatever (One time when I was on my way to G-Major with Jamie we saw these Japanese tourists and they had gas masks on, but they had pig faces on them. And they breathed though the snout. It was really funny.), and ran from the bathroom.
I walked back in the room and found Tommy belting out notes like he was Taylor Hicks.
"It doesn't matter: About the car I drive, or the ice around my neck. All that matters: Is that you recognize it's just about respect."
SOUL PATROL!
I could tell Tommy was really getting into it and I was seeing reminiscent booty shaking from his Boyz Attack! days. But I could appreciate it the most. I had a nice hind view. Quite nice. Next Halloween Tommy is going as a biker and I'm either going to make him wear A) assless chaps or B) tight leather pants.
Wait… are there any other holidays where people dress up? …I don't think so. I guess I do have to wait till fall. That sucks. I watched his shoulders heave as he took a deep breath before his second wind.
"Do you ever wonder why, this music gets you high? It takes you on a ride. Feel it when your body starts to rock. Baby you can't stop. When the music's all you've got." He chanted loudly, with his eyes closed and his head bobbing furiously.
Rock Me Amadeus!
No really, I would let Tommy rock me. Ok that was graphic, but totally true. I feel dirty. I feel like Landon and M.J. should have felt about the groupie drawer last season on The Real World: Philadelphia. At least I think it was Landon and M.J… I know it definitely wasn't Shavonda. So yea… I guess it had to be those two. But I feel like I'm forgetting a cast mate.
Wait no!
Wrong season.
Duh, I knew it wasn't those two. It was Wes and Nehemiah from The Real World: Austin! I liked Nehemiah. He was cool, but Wes was ugly. I hated him. And I hated Rachel, she was mean. And I think I only liked Melissa and Johanna. Except I hated Johanna after she was bitch to that bartender. That was mean. And I actually loved Danny when he flipped out on Melissa about Prince William one night and broke up with her. That was really funny. Almost as funny and Paula routinely telling John that he has a small penis and then John imitating her. "Kiss my ASS!"
I cleared my throat loudly and walked past Tommy and pointedly gave the butch lady the key and thanked her.
"It was all my pleasure girlie." Ok that creeped me out. But I just nodded my head and dragged Tommy with me.
"Dirty Pop?" I asked him with a raised eyebrow. He looked down at me and shrugged sheepishly.
"I thought she might eat you otherwise." We laughed together and I crawled through the door and back in the car.
"Better?" Sadie asked me.
"Much." I told her simply and looked at Pasty who looked faintly disappointed.
"I know Spied has a small bladder. Just fill him up and you and Jamie can get as kinky as you want." I told her.
I was officially in a good mood. I looked at Jamie who scowled and tried to dissuade Pasty from giving Spied a drink from her special flask. I honestly think it's rat poison or Raid or something, but I'm too afraid to ask.
At the Photo Shoot…
"Jude I need you to look straight into the camera lens for me and give me your poutiest lip and darkest eyes."
Double U Tee EFF?
He wants what? "Um, why?"
"Because this is the picture we plaster against the fake billboard during the opening credits and we want it to be a picture that will make people want to stay tuned and watch you."
"Oh… ok…?" I said, trying to hide my Little-Girl-Lost face.
It felt like the time when I was five and my dad took me to the grocery store with him, but it turned out to be this like hypermarket and it was huge and it sold everything under the sun. And he was looking a lighter fluid for the grill, I found this aisle with makeup and when I thought no one was looking, I put this eye shadow on my lips because I thought it was lipstick.
And then I licked my lips because it kinda tingled and I thought I had been eating poison and I started to cry and I ran back to the aisle my dad had been in, only he wasn't there. And then I tried to find someone that worked there. So I tugged on this lady's skirt to get her attention, she was wearing and red shirt and it looked exactly like the store uniform from behind, but I pulled too hard and her skirt kinda fell down.
Then she screamed at me I started to cry harder. I swear I am the biggest crybaby in the world. If I had been in Home Alone but like real life, I would be sobbing for days on end and then like crawl over to my neighbor's house and make them think I had been molested or something. I need to suck it up a lot of the time.
"Jude!" "What?" I snapped, but realized it was Darius that was yelling at me.
"Get it together." He told me with a tone that said this-my-friend-is-the-end-of-this-discussion. What a butt face.
No actually he reminded me of Luke from Gilmore Girls. Once I saw the actor on an episode of Will and Grace and he was staring at Karen's chest and I started to scream at the TV.
"Loreli will know! Luke! You'll regret this!" Kwest came over with a cup of coffee as I sat in Hospitality while Tommy yelled at Jamie from finishing the pot and not refilling it. I saw Kwest watching them with a smug smile that told me Jamie hadn't been near the coffee pot. I watched Jamie squirm under his violent presence and I laughed a little.
"Who's gonna regret what?" Kwest asked me and pointed to the TV. I watched Jamie try to defend himself but it only enraged Tommy even more.
"Jamie is going to be regretting ever walking into G-Major." I told him and pointed to the two just as Tommy took a thick accordion file and threw it at Jamie, who tried to block it with a three-ring hole punch.
I want to hit his butt face. But I won't. Because I'm afraid of his butt face. Well not of his butt face, but I'm afraid of him. All the time.
The photographer gave me a look that said get-over-yourself and I just wanted to thump his arrogant face with a book. He reminded me of the weird friend on The King of Queens who had a cameo in Zoolander and I think his only lines were "You're a monkey Derrick! Clash your little monkey cymbals! Dance, monkey dance!" but I am eternally devoted to him. And that movie. It taught me about the greater things in life. Like how male models are behind every assassination in history. Makes so much sense!
"We'll take a few like this and then get you back to wardrobe."
I looked down at myself, seeing the long crochet top they tried to convince me was a dress. I am not stupid. I can tell a dress from a shirt. But whatever, the shot didn't pan below my neck so it didn't really matter. I scrunched my bare toes a few times against the freezing ground and heard a song play in the background.
No… that is not a song… that's Darius.
No.
No.
No.
No.
He is not singing that. I think my brain will be forever altered. "You put cho hand up on ma hip. When you dip, I dip we dip. I put ma hand up on cho hip, when I dip, you dip, we dip."
Does he realize that I will forever call him Freak Nasty?
And always remember him singing Da Dip?
It felt like he was on an endlessly repetitive loop. I just wanted him to stop but the photographer looked at me again and made a pouty face. He pointed to it and then pointed to me.
I looked at him like he was insane but he thought I didn't know what he was talking about. Again, I am not stupid. He opened his mouth to explain again but I cut him off. "I know."
I told him with a hand raised, to physically prevent any more discussion. He gave a shrug like I was being demanding and diva-ish but I ignored it and waited for his cue.
He held three fingers above his head and counted down and when he tucked his forefinger in to signal the last second, I looked into the camera and I jut my bottom lips out and stared right into the little mirror in shutter box, seeing all the inner reels and workings of the camera. I didn't know how to make my eyes dark. I didn't know how to be convincingly pouty.
But I thought of Tommy.
I thought back to our kisses, I thought of the way his hands ran across my skin.
I thought back to the way I ignited at his touch.
I faintly heard the director calling 'fabulous!' 'wonderful!' 'perfection!' and stupid shit that made him sound like he came right from Zoolander again.
"Ok, we've got some really outstanding takes so, we'll move onto the band stills. Ok?" He asked rhetorically at the end. What if I had said "no" or "not ok" or like… "N-Ok". I wonder what he would have done.
"I want to create an allusion that you all are having a great time together and that you actually want to be here." He said, looking pointedly at Kyle who had faked food allergies when we got here and then ended up screaming, "the fashion industry is full of clowns and bad people who degrade society and morals. And leave us bankrupt in our souls and our music." And then pelted an intern with peanuts. The kid is abnormal. I almost feel bad for him, but he totally takes advantage of the groupie-factor.
The photographer came out with a pair of old-fashioned sixties roller-skates and told me about the wardrobe change. "It's like a funky throwback to Grease fashion. We're gonna poof your hair and then curl it in a bun in the back. And you're wearing a sexy, revived good-girl sixties fashion." He told me.
Thanks for being vague mister.
I was led over to the shoot's stylist and she handed me a bra and huge bell skirt. I stood waiting for the rest of my outfit while she just looked at me like why-are-you-staring-at-me-like-that?-light-a-fire-under-yer-ass-now and I would have, but I needed clothing!
"Do you have a… question?"
"No, I just uh need the rest of my… top." I said motioning to straps while I said the word top and trailed off like I was asking a question.
"It's right there." She said pointing to my hands. I held up the articles she had given me and realized my bra was not my bra it was my top. My mouth formed a small O as I retreated back towards the dressing rooms. This sucks.
I felt like annoying girl from survivor on that E! reality show that was about this former reality stars that were making a horror movie and she didn't want to do a naked scene. But they like filmed her getting undressed at the house and she didn't know it and then they used it in the movie. And the she had a sex tape or something but it turned out she made the tape on purpose to make money.
That weird wrestler lady, China, or something has a sex tape too. I saw clips of it on Best Week Ever and she all dominatrix-y and has a whip. Then it cut to her in the studio and she was sober and somber about it and regretful.
And she was like "I think they called it My One Night in China" and then I almost cried for humanity. And then I actually cried for the people who potentially find that sexually enticing. And then I bought one off E-Bay and gave it to Spied for his birthday. He acted kinda mad but he hasn't returned it or anything…
I looked at the minimal clothes in my hands and trudged the dressing room. I made sure my door was completely locked because of that one time that Wally walked in on my on tour and then Kyle did and now Spied is like a man on mission. Seriously, he's like The Fugitive.
I'm like the Tommy Lee Jones to his Harrison Ford. But instead of: "I didn't kill me wife!" "I don't care."
It would be more like "I just want to see your boobs." "I don't care." Spied makes my life hard.
While I zipped the skirt over my hips, I saw the handle turn forcefully and watched the door rattle against a vigorous bash.
"Oops, sorry." I heard Spied call.
"Can you see anything?" I called back.
I heard him huff "no…" he said ruefully.
"Then don't be." I told him brightly, fastened my top and swung the door open.
But I didn't know that he was still leaning forward on it and I smacked him in the face with the door. From the floor I saw him look up at me with wide eyes. Kwest came over, taking in my outfit.
"It's very pink." I said, fingering the fabric.
I love pink, but even Paris Hilton would be like "that's like a lot of pink. Tinkerbell thinks so too" and shove her dog in my face and then run my over with her car.
"Pink is a color for fall."
"Jason Mraz? Again?"
"What can I say? I'm not well."
He joked lightly while I saw Tommy staring at me from behind Kwest's back.
Jeez, stare much?
I looked back down at myself and past my busting chest I saw the bare skin of my abdomen. I was popping out of my clothes and I was beginning to feel highly uncomfortable.
I really wish that I were dating Harry Potter because I would totally grab his Invisibility Cloak and throw it over myself. And then take his wand and make Darius' penis shrink or something. That would be funny. But alas, I had no Harry for my rescue and began pulling on full on Lizzie McGuire. I wrapped my arms around myself to hide. But it just made it worse and pushed my cleavage closer together and I watched Tommy's face pale. I flung my arms at my sides and leaned against a wall while SME was in wardrobe. The photographer tittered at me and pointed irritably towards hair and makeup. Well up your butt.
But I trudged over there, bracing myself for hair tugging and poking. I plopped in the chair in front of the lighted mirror, that I had sat in before, and waited for the fat lady to do my hair again. I looked down at my hands in my lap and picked at my nails as I felt the chair spin around rapidly. I gripped the counter in fear and support and found myself very close to Tommy Quincy. Normally I need my bubble, but I was ok with it this time.
"I like the look girl."
"No too whorey?"
"Just right." He told me and pulled me up in his arms. He stared at me for a silent moment and then let his eyes travel down my body.
"Just right." He said again and ran his hands softly over my stomach. He traced small circles with his forefingers, making me shiver along my spine.
"Tommy…" I started and gasped a little as his fingers skimmed slightly below the waistband of my skirt.
"Hmmm?" He asked me distractedly. I felt his hand grace across my hip bone and just as I felt them dip even lower a loud cough resounded from behind Tommy. I looked over his shoulder as he whipped his hands out of my skirt and saw the fat lady growing impatient.
"Save it for les camera." She chided with a French accent, dropping the s in cameras.
What the hell? We are so not Teddy and Brit from 8th and Ocean it's not like we go around on professional photo shoots and get pictures for magazines or whatever they actually do besides cry and get breast implants.
"Sorry." I muttered as Tommy threw her an apologetic look.
I thought he was going to leave but he just sat down in the chair next to me. Nothing was particularly entertaining about whatever was going on with me but I saw Tommy leaning in his chair and laughing as he pointed at Spiederman. I whipped my head to my left, meriting me a small slap on the head from the lady, and saw the makeup girl at Spied's face.
So what? He's been getting eyeliner since tour. "Why are you laughing?" I asked him stupidly, realizing this constituted as mocking rights. Well whatever, I was not going to partake in this. I sneakily looked over at Tommy and then at Spied while the lady curled my hair.
I really should learn her name. It's worse than how Emily Gilmore never knows the names of her maids because I call her the fat lady, which is offensive. It's a wonder people don't push me off buildings routinely. I don't really know when the opportunity would naturally arise. But if I knew me I would kidnap me and take me up a building and then throw me off. But that's just me. I'll call her… Ladysmith Black Mambazo, because it's funny.
I watched Tommy hang his tongue out like a weirdo and make exaggerated motions like he was putting on makeup. I watched Spied give him the finger but his makeup artist thought he was flicking her off and got really mad.
"I don't knowz vhy you are doing zis, but iz must ztop!" She shouted in a think Russian accent.
"I wasn't. I didn't mean it to you. I mean unless you would want to… not that I'm insinuation anything. About you or…or… your character. I was just saying that… that, should the opportunity is there. If you would ever… uh, want it to arise. I mean… I'm here. You're here."
"I'm here." Tommy cut in while Spied acted like an asshole.
His makeup artist just stared at him for like twenty minutes, probably debating whether she should drive the stick of eyeliner through his head, and then turned on her heels and stomped out.
"I was just saying that… that, the opportunity is there. If you would ever… uh, want it to arise…" I mocked at him in exaggerated tone with hand gestures.
"I'm here. You're here." Tommy continued.
Spied looked between us and sighed, "Shut up. Go do each other." He huffed and took off. Butt hole. Seriously. I want to hit him really hard. LSBM cleared her throat suggestively from behind my head then presented her work.
"Lovely, non?" She asked.
"Mais oui, elle est très belle." Tommy muttered under his breath as LSBM nodded in agreement. What? Did he just say something mean? Was he just making fun of me? That's just mean.
"Elle t'aime." She told him with a knowing tone and left us alone again.
"What were you saying?"
"Nothing ma belle." He told me and ran two fingers tenderly across the skin under my chin. I could really handle being Tommy's belle but I still wanted to know what they had been saying. I huffed in my seat and slouched with a pout.
The photographer yelled for me on set, and as I passed Liam and Darius I was Liam handing him a wad of cash. Oh my God! Is Darius going to kill me?
This is total conspiracy.
And pre-meditation!
And other things that could get them both a lot of time in jail.
I shook my head and followed SME to the set. I watched David slump in frustrated heap, obviously not happy with something. But I'm guessing he's more like an unhappy Diva, like Star Jones instead of a happy Diva like… Diana Ross? But her hair kinda sucks up all the happy in the world and suffocates it with her teased curls. I'm personally allergic. If I could sneeze on cue I would, but I can't.
"Let's go outside." The Sound of Revenge. I knew I shouldn't have cut him off earlier. And I should not have thought about anything or anyone that references Chameleons and Millionaires, to make the sick hybrid he calls Chamillionaire. What at least I think he means chameleons but I might be wrong. His name could be something like Cha. I could see that.
I stared at him for like a trillion minutes before snapping out of my funk. Outside? In my non-clothing? It's 20 degrees. That band didn't call themselves 98 degrees for nothing. There's a reason 20 degrees is less enjoyable than 98. I wonder if David understands that.
Oh and just by the way, he has no last name. He's pulling a Madonna or a Brandy or a Raven or, my personal favorite, a Shay. But maybe he just shoved his name so far up his ass it can't see the light of day.
"Seriously? Outside?"
"Seriously." He told me and started to pack up his camera. I really mean up your butt to him in every way possible right now.
I looked at Spied and Wally and Kyle and Mason and Pasty and Jamie and Tommy and Kwest and Portia and E.J. and Darius and Liam and Sadie and Craig and Shay and none of them seemed opposed to going outside.
Then I looked at the common factor linking them all: clothing. Not one of them had a non-existent shirt on that was about three leaps and bounds away from a wardrobe malfunction.
(At least Justin Timberlake wasn't here to make the process worse. If he groped me on TV my dad would go into a fit of rage. Kind of like rabies induced psychosis, only more foaming at the mouth.)
None of them were faced with prospect of going out in the winter with more than a third of their body exposed. (And I'm bad at math! It could be more!).
But all of them had coats and scarves and gloves and… SHIRTS! Even Pasty was completely clothed. This is like hell.
I filed out of the building, clinging to Wally's back like a leech, trying to keep in all the warmth I could. Portia came from behind me and secured my coat around my shoulders.
"Until you need to start shooting." She told me with a warm smile. I clattered my teeth into a similar smile to thank her. She fell to the back again and I watched her fall deep into conversation with Craig.
The Hand that Robes the Cradle anyone? Except I wouldn't know since I never saw that movie, I just know it was playing on HBO a few weeks ago and I couldn't forget the title.
We walked a little farther, the wind seemingly blowing colder and with more vengeance in my face with every step. I guess this is my dad's punishment in disguise for all the Tommy stuff that's been happening.
Wow, thanks.
I looked up incredulously, when I felt the soft patter of a snowflake on the top of my head, and I was met with the sight of thousands of small flakes falls to the ground and overwhelming the wintry, peaceful sky. I pushed my tongue out to taste one, hoping one would merely fall. But minutes passed and I was just some crazy person, refusing to put her tongue in her mouth and with her eyes closed. I think I was even making an 'AHH' noise.
I felt like the guy on the House finale when his tongue didn't fit in his mouth and he looked like an ass. And then his eye popped out or something… then one of his nuts exploded. That was sorta funny. Except it wasn't because it was gross and before that Chase was all "Are you aroused?" In his dead sexy accent and I just wanted to jump his bones through the screen, except then the guy's ball was imploding and it ruined the mood. Well at least my mood, I can't speak for some of the weirdos out there.
I huffed with my mouth and eyes open and felt a snowflake dissolving around my lids. I searched for a lone snowflake and waited for the eventual descent and positioned myself under it, backing up the procession of people behind me.
I want my snowflake damn it!
Just as the cool ice hit my tongue I heard the flash of a camera and saw a thunderous flash. I caught it in my mouth and then whipped my head towards David. I saw him staring into his camera before he looked up and met my gaze.
"Perfect." He told me. What?
"What?"
"That was perfect."
Oh…what does that mean? I must have looked perplexed because he sighed and told the rest of the group to turn around and head back to the studio.
"Jude just gave us the perfect shot."
Stop saying perfect it has no meaning. Especially when used in the same sentence as Jude. Unless we're talking about Jude Law, who happens to be the perfect man. But not, because I saw this picture of him on Celebrity Eye Candy and he was wearing this ugly disco-mesh shirt and a tie underneath and I wanted to vomit all over the TV. But I didn't.
I heard shuffling behind me and turned around, finding myself face to face with Tommy again. "We have to stop meeting like this." I told him with a smile. It was actually a stupid thing to say but I wanted to beat him to the punch of saying something corny.
He was taking all the cliché points I had earned that whole week before I left for tour. I was like every romantic comedy/sitcom thingy with some awesome rock and roll wrapped into one neat package. Well my shirt was never tucked in so I guess I wasn't that neat, but whatever. I'm like Josie and the Pussycats, which is the most underrated movie ever. I mean come on, it's Tara Reid at her most sober, and that is shockingly beautiful. But then I saw Taradise and that made me sad for humanity. I would have died for the human race that day.
He smiled down at me, grabbing the lapels of my coat gently and pulling me closer. I felt the warmth radiating off him and I felt myself close any possible distance.
"I'm ok with it." He told me softly, and busying himself with the snowflakes that had fallen in my hair.
I blew a breath of cool air towards my bangs with my mouth, making them sway slightly in Tommy's face. He smiled softly and reached a finger to my cheek. I looked down at his finger, feeling myself go crossed-eyed and saw that he had plucked a perfect snowflake from my skin.
"Wish." He told me.
"You can't wish on a snowflake." I told him with a smile.
"Wish, Jude." He told me again.
I looked up at him and left my eyes flicker to his finger after. I closed my eyes, inhaled and blew the flake from his fingertip. Tommy. That's what I wish for. Who I wish for. He's all that I wanted that I didn't have. All of my little dreams had become reality and my reality was burning with the fire of success. And maybe a way I had some of Tommy. But I wanted all of him.
It's only 11, but I'm feeling old tonight lol. A little sneak at next time:
-The group checks into the hotel
-late night visits
-early wake up calls
I haven't written any yet, but I know exactly what I want to do! And I forgot to mention it before, but I want to thank everyone who is reviewing my one shots and such, you guys are so sweet to me! So review, review, review, tell me what you think! ;o)
