A/N: So I forgot the disclaimer on the firstchapter. Well that's because I own Instant Star. Yuh. I do. That's why I'm sitting here writing a fanfiction. Just running ideas for the show past you guys.So I'm lying. I don't own anything affiliated with Instant Star.
Thanks again to KayKay2007, Giliwascool,EmmyM, amdISobsessedXOfor reading AND reviewing. It's very much appreciated. :)
We're sitting on the beach watching the sun descend into the ocean. I would give up music for the rest of my life if she weren't with Jax, if I could muster up enough courage, and confidence to tell her how I feel about her right now. But that's not going to happening, at least for a while. So I'm just enjoying being next to her, and sharing the view.
"I should have brought my guitar," she thinks aloud.
"Feeling inspired?"
"Yeah, actually I am." She replies, pulling a notebook out her bag.
I sit and watch as she quickly scribbles something down. By the time she's finished it's about a page long. She looks up and grins and me.
"What you're not going to let me read it?"
"Uh no. It's not even lyrics really, just a concept for a song," she explains, putting her notebook back in her bag. I don't push the issue anymore. I'll get to see it eventually anyway.
"You want to get started back before it gets too dark?" I ask her.
She glances over her shoulder at me, and wraps her arms around her knees. "Nah. You scared?"
"Ha. Aren't you cute?" I reply, laying on my back. Jude's saying something to me, but I'm too caught up at looking at the stars that are just appearing.
"Quincy?" she exclaims, waving her hand in front of my face.
"Yeah?"
"What time is it?"
I hold out my watch for her to look at.
"Um…8:05…" she sighs, laying down on her back beside me.
"What you got a date?" I joke.
"Sorta…" she smiles.
"Um that's a yes or no question…" I smirk.
"Jax is calling me when he gets off…" she explains.
"Can't miss that." Some how I manage to say this with a very small amount of sarcasm in my tone.
She turns on her side and looks at me. Oh god. I feel a little heart to heart coming on.
"I just…I don't know he's different… from all the other guys I've ever dated." She stutters. "Believe me, I never thought I'd be falling in love with some preppie, pretty-boy actor."
"Uh huh." I say trying to contribute a little to the conversation.
"And he's so sweet. The flowers in the lobby? Most guys only do that as a I'm-sorry-for-forgetting-Valentine's-Day type gift." She sighs. "He's almost to good to be true. You know what I mean?"
"Yup," I wince. I know exactly what she means. I've sent Post-Valentine's Day's flowers before. "Well you know, if it's too good to be true, then it's probably not true."
This is one of those moments where you wish you had a rewind button, too bad life is not on t-vo. I would love to take those words back.
"Meaning?" she snaps, instantly sitting up.
"I heard it on Oprah one day…"
"Yeah okay…" she laughs. "Since when did you start watching Oprah?"
"It was a one time thing…" I explain, trying to lighten the mood. I'm glad that it's dark so that she is not able to see my face. But since she can't, I can get away with lying.
"Right…" she says, standing up. "I'm hungry. Let's get going now."
"Yeah okay," I reply. But I'm pissed off at myself because I've ruined our little mood we had going on.
As we back towards the woods, she keeps a firm grip on the back of my shirt.
"The freaks don't really come out at night," I tease.
"I know that," she said, easing her grasp. "They're out all the time these days."
"True."
When we see the car again, she tries to make a run for the driver's seat, but I kindly redirect her to the passenger's seat.
"No more of you driving me around for another few years," I assure her.
"You can't handle it Quincy?"
"Nah. No I can't." I say cranking up.
"It's that age catching up to you," she says matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, I'm growing up and figuring out what I want," I say, seriously. Then add, "Which is not to die early by getting in the car with you."
"Ha. Ha. Ha." She mimics me.
"You want me to put the top up?" I ask her, before I pull out.
"Nah leave it down," she replies.
So I do.
"So you have life I figured out now that you are all old…" she teases.
"Nah. Not life in general, just what I want out of it," I tell her. I look at her out the corner of my eye, she's nodding like she understands where I'm coming from.
"And that is?"
I take a deep breath, and let it slowly. I can't decide what I want to tell her, what parts I want to keep to myself. So I decided to be as a vague as possible. "Kids. Definitely."
"Boys or girls?" she probes.
"Both."
"And what would you name him if it was a boy?" she asks.
I begin to think we're playing 21 questions. "Why?"
"I want to know," she says, as if that's explanation enough.
"I've never really thought about it. Thomas IV?"
She scoffs at this answer.
"What?" I ask her, slightly uneasy.
"I would never name my son after his dad," she says matter-of-factly. "I mean, I do all the work, and whoever the baby's dad is expects it to be named after him? I don't think so."
"Well the baby's dad put some work in it to…" I remind her.
"Yeah the fun part," she laughs.
"You have a point," I surrender. There is no way I can fight her when she plays the child birthing card "But it's tradition for me at least. Thomas IV. That's four generations there Quincies."
"I hope you find someone that likes that name then…" she replies, in a sing-song-voice.
"So you don't think the dad should have any say in the matter of naming the baby," I ask her.
"Oh he can help name the baby it's just not going to be called Junior or J.R.," she explains.
"What about for the middle name?"
After a pause, she says, "That's acceptable in cases such as yours…where the baby would be like the 3rd or 4th generation."
I smile to myself. She's such a…what's another word for control freak? Ahh we'll just go with that for now. I decide to change the subject though. "So where you taking me out to dinner at?"
"Pshhh, where are YOU taking me?" she yawns, stretching arms out.
"What? You getting sleepy?" I taunt her.
"No," she denies. "Hungry."
"You feel like eating in, grabbing a fat burger…?"
"How about a pizza? There was a pizza joint near the hotel," she yawns again.
"Sounds good."
We get back to the hotel after a few hours and go our separate ways. I'm lying in bed; staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come on. I give up on this after a few hours of channel surfing. I can never sleep well on the first night somewhere. So I throw on some jeans and slip downstairs to the bar.
I'm sitting at the bar, there's hardly anyone in here though. They close in about 40 minutes.
"Hey," someone says, I glance over my shoulder quickly, thinking it might be Jude.
"Hey, Chelsea." I mutter, the disappointment apparent in my voice. I turn back to the bar, and sip my drink. I'll need a couple more of them before the night is over if she's planning to sit and have a chat. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm about to go up to my room…what's the matter with you?" she says, perching on the stool beside me.
"Uh nothing. Jetlag. Can't sleep." I murmur, which isn't a lie, exactly. In all actuality I'm trying to remember every single thing that happened during dinner with Jude. Everything we said to each other, what kind of pizza we ate, what she wore. The way the light reflected off her eyes...
"What are you smiling for?" she asks me, leaning on the bar. She places her chin on her hand and looks at me intently.
"I'm just happy to see you again," I lie. She's got a look of disbelief on her face. I should know better than to try to charm her.
"Yeah. Right." She smiles. "Like I said…what are you smiling about?"
"Nothing really, it's just been a long day, and I'm suffering from sleep deprivation," I reply, taking another sip of my drink.
"Uh huh. You've been doing good?"
"Yes."
"How's Kwest?"
"Honeymooning in Fiji."
"It was beautiful wedding, wasn't it?"
"Yes, it was,"
"Would you ever honeymoon in Fiji?"
"Sure."
"Would you take her?"
"Probably."
"What's her name?"
"Ju-…" I cannot believe I almost said that.
"Oh…what was that?" she says, looking like she ate the last cookie.
Now how the hell am I supposed to answer that? I decide to shrug and change the subject. "Uh…what are you doing tomorrow?" Ahh…I could have came up with something better than that.
"Parasailing. You want to come? I seen JUDE Harrison, you produce her right? I invited her along too," she says, sweetly. I'm so busted. She knows it. I know it. What a manipulative cow…well she didn't exactly manipulate me…but she's a cow anyway.
"Really? That's good." I say, chomping on the ice cubes in my glass. I attempt to make pleasant small talk. "Have you ever been before?"
"Ummm humm. JUDE hasn't though. She was excited when I invited her along a while ago," she smiles. I don't know why the hell she keeps saying her name like it needs that many syllables.
"Really?" Now I'm trying to say as a little as possible. Perhaps the Sea Breezes are getting to me.
"Yes. Have you ever been before?" she asks.
"Nope can't say I have. I've got a small fear of heights," I say, plastering a smile to my face. So I forget about the impulse to tell her to go to hell. You have to be nice to your boss's sister. Not only is she Darius's sister she's Shay's manager, and she has pull in the business on her own. Maybe more than Darius since she's older than him.
"Ahh, you'll be okay I'm sure." She assures me, patting my hand. I really don't like her. Well she's okay sometimes…but this doesn't happen to be one of those times.
"Yeah, I'll come," I yawn, sliding off my stool and stretching. I change my mind, fun in the sun with Jude, it can't get any better and it's really not like Chels has anything on me. Jude is with Jackson…
"Great," she says, turning her stool around so she can face me. "We'll meet up in the lobby in the morning at 7:00."
"Um…better hit the sack then," I say, already walking toward the door. "See you in the morning."
"Smooches."
I wave to her, and hurry out the door as quickly as possible.
"Smooches," I mimic as I wait for the elevator. So annoying. Why can't she just say "good-bye" like a normal person? I will never know.