I mention Logan Lerman as a favour for my friend, but he's not a big part of the story. I think I made the part with him a little longer than what I had intended, though. I just couldn't think of any other guy, and I think he's pretty cute anyway. I didn't want to make up some new character, I'm not very good with coming up with names, and it is a bit overdone. I thought, if I'm going to have someone have a crush on our favourite #1 fan, might as well put someone famous in there, right? It's freaking JONAS we're talking about here. If they had Emma Roberts on for the real show as herself, we can dream about LL, right? And I didn't want to put Bieber on (another personality another friend suggested). His voice is higher than Macy's (no offense to his fans).
Enjoy.
I repeat. Percy Jackson is just in there for additional info, to make it a little interesting. And because he's cute. But Nick FTW.
I officially suck at relationships. Or friendships, for that matter.
I wasn't that convinced that I could actually get back on good terms with her anyway, but no, Kevin had to give me the world's most epic pep talk, and tempt me with lemon chiffon and a five year old kid who loves Justin Timberlake.
I don't think even God can cheer me up now. I think.
I am left shell-shocked on the spot a good five minutes or so after Stella and Macy leave to meet this guy who supposedly is better looking, and according to Joe, more jovial (since when was I not jovial ?) than me, and I find myself just staring at the spot she had just vacated.
"Nick, my man," Frankie randomly comes up to me, hanging his arm over my shoulder as he hands me a bottle of what I think is Budweiser or Heineken, I'm too lazy to distinguish the brand, "why didn't you get your groove on with her? She was practically begging for it."
"No she wasn't, Frank, and I really hope you're not drinking any of this," I say to him, giving the bottle to a waiter passing by.
"But that was for you," he mumbles as he watches the waiter give it to one of Stella's uncles, "do you know how hard it was for me to get that? Kevin wouldn't even let me near the buffet table without a chaperone-"
"It's your fault for stealing so much of your nephew's candy," I mutter; I'm honestly not in the best of moods. "Look, I'm gonna go get some cake, okay, Tank-"
"Why didn't you get Macy to dance with you?," he asks again, as if I had said nothing, "I mean, she looked like she wanted you more than ever then-"
"And why would you know that?," I ask him.
"Because I'm two points shy from becoming a genius, and I'm not as dense as you are," he says indignantly, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out another Pixy Stix, ripping it open with his teeth and emptying its contents into his mouth.
Of course he would be pinning that one on me. And I'm not dense.
"Well? Will you be reacting to that masterpiece of a statement, or what?," he says smugly.
"I can't believe we're brothers," I murmur quietly.
"What? Among the four of us, we're the most alike!," he says. He must think I'm not taking him seriously. "Well, yeah, sure, there's the fact that I am sort of smarter than you, and I'm not as stupid, but we're both ladies men, am I right? Well, no, not really, I've already kind of beat your record, but-"
"Why don't you go grab a drink with your girlfriend," I say to him distantly, before turning away to go back to the tables; who really cares if he's not of age yet? He sure as hell as likes he is.
"For the last time, she is not my girlfrie- oh, hey there, Natalia," he says once he sees his date walk up to him, "why don't we get some mocktails, maybe even a Cosmos, if we're lucky?"
I don't bother to hear the rest of their conversation, and I leave them to go back to my seat among the mass of others. Our little chat didn't even last a full half-hour, at least by my calculations, which are usually always correct, and I'm already contemplating the possibility of having a whole new album written on this ordeal alone, which will then go on to send millions of copies, and might end up winning another award, which is all sort of depressing, though I wouldn't really mind the last part.
It's not very comforting knowing that people think my best material comes from my worst experiences. It actually kind of sucks.
Some things aren't just meant to be manufactured and become part of the public domain, but I have a problem telling my-
"NICK! What the hell?," Kevin says to me as I finally reach their table and plopping down on a chair, completely ignoring the fact that Adam was sitting right next to him, squishing his chocolate cake to a pulp with his hands, "you're just gonna let her chitchat with that Lerman dude-"
"Is that his last name?," Joe suddenly chimes in, his arm linked with Stella's as they both walk in together, "huh. You didn't tell me you went out with the Percy Jackson dude."
"He was in that?," Stella asks, a look of surprise clear on her face, her eyes slightly wider, her mouth slightly open.
"Are you kidding?," he says, chuckling a little, "that was about the only thing he was in."
"Umm, actually, Joe, I think that was about the only thing you've seen him in," Stella replies, giving him a small smile, "you don't watch his stuff because you found out I dated him-"
"He's not that good an actor," he mutters, looking away from her.
"Oh, speak for yourself, honey," she says with a cruel tone, but a sweet grin on her face.
"Don't drag the poor guy into this," Kevin cuts in while he wipes the crumbs and icing off of his kid's face. "Anyways, Stella, aren't you supposed to be with them? You know, to like, facilitate?"
"Oh, you know what, turns out, they actually know each other," she says excitedly, and after seeing our stunned faces, she elaborates, "well, he was in Vancouver a few years back to shoot some movie, and at the time, that was where Macy was training. She accidentally shot a hockey puck at him; she brought him to the hospital, they started talking, and they've kept in touch since. But not recently, though, they've both been busy-"
"Okay, not that important," I barge in; they seem to forget that I'm still here, "I don't really care as long as they didn't date."
"Well, I actually think they would look pretty cute together- not that they would ever date," her tone turns from giddy to urgent once she sees the disheartened look on my face. "I mean, you know, I told him to not try anything on her, because she was waiting out for someone-"
"You shouldn't have done that," I reply tiredly.
"Okay, Nick, I'm kinda confused now, do you want her back or not, because I can tell him to-"
"I do, God, I do, but there's no point even if I tried anyway. She has a boyfriend, so that Logan can pretty much just forget about it," I say, and before Stella can retort with a lecture on how Macy should have told her, I go on, "and even if she wasn't dating anyone, we still wouldn't have a chance. We can't get past that last time we saw each other five years ago."
"And how would you know that?," she asks sceptically.
"She called me Nicholas, and she shook my hand," I answer, reliving the moment in my head.
"Is that it?," Joe says, "we do that a lot," he continues, gesturing to Stella and himself.
"It's a bigger deal for us," I respond, fingering my hair impatiently, "think of it like that time when you guys fought, and all Joe would do was Tweet out sad and angry smiley faces, and all the clothes Stella would design for him were either black or that nauseating neon, except it's a lot more depressing."
"Why didn't you tell us it was so serious?," Joe finally reacts, a flabbergasted look on his face.
"Don't make me feel worse than I already am," I reply quietly, embarrassed at his attempt to be concerned.
"What did you even say to her?," Stella asks me, ignoring my brother.
"Not anything significant, I answer, but she sort of touched my cheek and all, like before-"
"Aww," she swooned, resting a hand over her heart, "she'd always tell me how smooth your face was-"
"I guess she remembered what I said to her then, and that there's some guy waiting for her to come back after this," I say, disregarding Stella's outburst of giddiness, "so she's just avoiding me now."
"You're just over-thinking this now, Prez," Kevin says to me, all while tending to his son's chocolate icing covered shirt, "that was five years ago. Don't you think it's about time to stop thinking about that?"
"But I said some pretty crappy things to her," I reply, "and I haven't exactly said anything nice to her since then-"
"Well, Nick, you're going to have to be the mature one here," he says simply, wiping Adam's face with the table cloth, "why don't you go over to her, and ask her to dance? I know how much you both like Aqualung."
"My dancing is pretty much limited to flips and cartwheels," I answer, "and she's talking to someone, isn't that just being rude?"
"Technically, Nick, you were talking to her first, Stella just dragged her away. Then again, you let her, but still," my oldest brother says, and he appears to be thinking deeply. "And since when was Macy such a great dancer, anyway? You two can dance badly together."
"But didn't she win that dance contest-"
"Not now, Joe, I'm in the middle of making a point," he says, chuckling and waving his hand, "don't be so dim about this, President, she wants to work out the differences as much as you do, so why don't you give her the chance to-"
"Papa! He took my candy again!," Adam abruptly cries out, pointing to the thief. We all look towards that direction, and to no one's disbelief, we see Frankie already devouring the addictingly sweet powder.
"Okay, okay, I promise I'll make him buy you some more, okay? I'm talking to your uncle right now," Kevin tells him, ruffling his short, curly brown hair.
"But papa-"
"Okay, now back to you Nick," he says, turning his attention back to me, but I don't think that'll last for long.
"Kev, I think you should just take care of Adam, Nick will be fine," Stella says uneasily, seeing the boy's eyes getting a little teary.
"Yeah, K2," I say anxiously as well, once I get a glimpse of my nephew, "don't worry, your daddy will force your Uncle Frankie to buy ten more packs, okay?," I reassure him, reaching over to tap his head lightly.
"But Nick-"
"I'll be fine, nothing a little alone time with a guitar can't fix," I say to encourage him, and being honest, I don't like seeing little kids cry anyway. It doesn't really lift my spirits up, especially now, for obvious reasons.
He glared at me doubtfully, and after a minute, finally said to me, "fine, but it's your loss. I had something totally epic in mind." He gets up from his seat, leans down, lifts up his son from his seat and into his arms, and says, "Joe, you give him the pep talk-"
"What?," my other brother whined, pulling Stella even closer to him, "why do I have to-"
"I'm kinda busy," he replies, coaxing Adam to wrap his arms around his neck so that he would not fall, "and who else am I gonna ask?"
"What about me?," Stella asks with a sugary tone, "I mean, she is my best friend, and I know all about the girl mind."
Kevin, Joe and I all ogle at her for a second as she tightens her grip on her groom, and he sighs out of frustration and says grudgingly, "fine, but I have no guarantees that what I'll say will even matter to him."
"Good man," Kevin says to him, thumping his shoulder lightly, and then walking off to look for Frankie with a weepy Adam in his arms.
I look over to Joe, and I am not all that surprised to see him already fidgeting restlessly, squirming around as if he wanted to go to the bathroom, which he probably does, and muttering endlessly to his bride, and she just gently hushes him.
Okay. Time to get moving. I mean, it's not like I'll be convinced, right?
But before I can even fully get up from my seat, she pushes me back down, and says, "Joe has something totally mind-blowing in his head-"
"Usually, when I have something mind-blowing in my head, it has something to do with the Governor," he tells her, referring to his love for anything with the Schwarzenegger.
"Do you want me to be the one to talk to him-"
"Why don't you get a Virgin Cuba Libre, honey?"
"Isn't that just Coke?," she asks, a confused look on her face.
"We all know that when you get any alcohol, it's Kevin times fifty," he replies, taking his arm away from hers. "I'll just talk to him. It won't take more than five minutes."
"You think you'll convince me in five minutes?," I ask him, not believing him for a minute.
"Nope, five minutes before I quit on you, li'l bro," he answers, taking the seat next to me, "go on, Stells, it's not like either of us can do this."
She watches him, appearing to be quite uncomfortable, and leaves hesitantly after around a minute. He shifts in his seat a little, then turns his attention back to me, and says, "I honestly have no idea in hell on how I'm going to do this."
"Okay, well, congrats on getting married, bro," I say, standing up, "hope you have a great life together-"
"Nick, sit your ass down," he says, grabbing my arm and pushing me back down to the chair. "I get it that you're kinda mad at me-"
"I am not mad-"
"You can't kid with me," he cuts me off, shaking his head, "I mean, I know that you're happy for me and all, which reminds me, I really liked your speech, it made me feel important," he says, laughing and tapping the table lightly.
Do I really have to trust this guy?
"But," he says, snapping out of little reverie and glancing at me seriously, "you're gonna have to cut the crap, Nick. We all know how much you wanted this for yourself, and you were so determined to do it before Stella and I did-"
"I sort of meant it as a joke-"
"Didn't mean that you wouldn't take it seriously," he says, "you think you're all about work and your music, but you're not fooling me, President, you want to get married too, whether it be with Macy or not-"
"Which I don't-"
"Sure, sure, keep telling yourself that," he tells me, waving his hand, "you want your happy ending as much as any other sap and chick flick geek out there. Nothing wrong with that."
"I know there isn't," I say to him, and I'm really just giving him the benefit of the doubt now, "but I can't exactly just walk over to her and ask her to dance-"
"Why not?"
"Because she's sort of talking to someone, if you didn't notice," I say, pointing out to the two, who are now apparently attached at the hip.
"So? That never stopped me, now look at where we are," he said, gesturing to the ballroom. He grins smugly, and now all I want to do is punch him in the face.
"I can't, not after all the flack I gave her then-"
"Geez, Nick, can you just stop being a baby and talking about something that happened five freakin' years ago-"
"Not when that something you're talking about ended with her leaving on an airplane, without even bothering to contact me for the next five years, and me bawling in my car and thinking what could've happened if I didn't try to stop her and just shut my pie hole-"
"Are you like this with Kevin?," he asks, and I can see now that he's really pissed now.
"I dunno," I begin to say, trying to not meet his eyes, "it's not like I've ever thought of what I say before I actually say it."
He stares at me for a minute, then he wails out of the blue and lays his head unto the table. "Being an older brother is hard."
If K2 can do it, then why the hell can't you do it?
"Look, Nick," he mumbles as he leans his elbow on the surface, and resting his face against his hand in an attempt to keep upright, "you know you've wanted Macy for God knows how long, eight years-"
"Nine in September," I say, reminiscing my high school days.
He stares at me again, and says, "didn't really need to know that, but okay..."
I didn't really need to know when you and Stella first kissed, when you first argued, or when you first discovered you both loved Daniel Craig like no one's business, but I listened anyway.
"President," he snaps his fingers, noticing that I'm not really paying attention to him anymore. After giving him a quick glimpse, he goes on to say, "you've loved the same girl for almost a decade- decade's the word, right? Yeah, well, you're gonna throw all that time away, all that time spent not dating other people, just because of a fight that barely lasted ten minutes?"
"Well, what I said in those ten minutes were the last things I've said to her until now," I tell him, tapping my fingers on the table, "and that's a long time to mull over something. And that something happens to be just a huge load of crap on her-"
"Come on, it couldn't have been that bad-"
"I made fun of her dad, Joe," I say to him, and I'm pretty sure that it was a little louder than what I had intended, because the tables next to us give me a collective stare.
"You did that? But-"
"Can you not give me any crap for what I did, because I am fully aware of how wrong it was," I retort, before he even said anything, "I know how hurt she must have been, and I think I would have an idea of just how much she loved him, because it was on my shoulder she cried on during the funeral."
"But I wasn't gonna give you any sort of crap, Nick," he tells me, knocking on my head lightly, "out of all the people, you should know that I'm the one who would relate to you the most."
"Why-"
"Stella and I have been through a lot more than you think," he says with a slight nod. "You were put in a difficult situation, you can't exactly just blame yourself."
"But I imagine she can't exactly just forget about my little outburst, unintentional though it may be," I say, and I feel even more horrible now than what I had initially felt, "I was a complete asshole to her-"
"You were a complete asshole."
"Way to make me feel better, Danger-"
"Not what I meant, President," he says, halting me with a hand to my face, "I mean, you were one, but that was then. It doesn't mean that you're one now."
"It's not like a person can change in five years-"
"Really? Take a look at Kevin," he says, pointing towards the oldest Lucas brother, who was telling off the youngest of our family, and his son sleeping peacefully in his hold. "He hasn't talked about ducks or otters in the longest time."
"Well, that's sort of different-"
"Nick, I'm pretty sure that you've changed since then" he tells me, "plenty can happen in a year times five. We know that you've been through a lot, excluding the Grammy," he says, reading the brainwaves that he thinks are coming from me, "and I'd like to think that she's changed quite a bit too."
"But she has a different life now, not to mention a different boyfriend-"
"Wasn't that the point I made just a while ago?," he says, a little disappointed that the message didn't really come through as clear cut as he wanted it to, "you're telling me that she has a new life, but how are you even so sure? I don't think you even have half of of the story. Why don't you let Macy just explain herself? Maybe ask her dance?"
"But what if I don't like what I hear? You know I don't take things lightly."
"Well, if you think you really love her enough, don't you think you owe it to yourself and to her to give it another shot? I know that she wants to try."
"I thought loving someone was knowing when to let go," I say, remembering the fortune from the cookie I had gotten a few days back.
"Well, you tried that, and look where it's gotten you," he says, chuckling, but he turns serious again once he sees that look on my face. "You should know that there are never any guarantees, and there never will be, but nothing's going to happen if you don't try, right?"
I give him a little knowing glance, and then I sigh and chuckle, somehow at the same time; getting married seems to be the best thing that ever happens to a Lucas.
"How many minutes has it been, Prez?," he asks me after around a minute, eyeing my watch.
"Around four and a half," I answer, looking down at my left wrist.
"Mission accomplished," he says, slapping the table as he gets up from his seat.
"How do you know it's accomplished?," I call out after him as he walks away.
"You're not asking anymore questions, are you?," he asks, turning to look at me. He's got his swagger thing going. I hate that.
"Well, no-"
"Mission accomplished," he repeats, this time even louder, as he makes his way to the bar where Stella is arguing with the bartender, "now, I think I'm gonna get me some Virgin Cuba Libres-"
"You said that was just Coke," I say to him.
"It has lime too," he answers back, matter-of-factly, before breaking up, or at least, attempting to calm down, the little word war the drinks mixer and his wife.
I tap the surface of the table, chuckling to myself as I contemplate his words.
Two successful pep talks from my two brothers. Maybe God is loving me right now after all.
I get up from my seat as well, and because most of the crowd had gone out to the dancefloor, it was considerably much easier and took much less time to get to the other side of the room. I see Macy (and this Logan person), chatting away just around a few feet away from the empty head table, and I can't help but notice that she's swaying to the beat a little, but very subtly. Her hips were moving from side to side, and her waves are gently bouncing from her shoulders.
I bet Logan wouldn't be able to see that on the first try.
I walk up right behind them, but because the music's volume was a little louder than what I had expected, I yell out while holding out my hand, "Hi, Logan, that's your name, right? I'm Nick."
"Oh, hey," he replies, bellowing as well, taking my offered hand and shaking it briefly, "you're from that band, JONAS, right?"
"Well, yeah, but I have my own solo career now-"
"Yeah, that's good to know," he says, turning away from me. How courtious. "Now, Mace, why not Friday night?"
"Sorry, but I'm sort of seeing someone right now," she replies with a sweet smile to him, then she gives me a confused look. I just shrug in reply.
"Huh," he says, sounding a little defeated, "how come every time I want to date you, you're already going out with somebody?"
"I'm sorry," she says sincerely, before he pulls her into a hug (that guy better watch it), to which she responds with a quick peck to the cheek (what?). "Maybe when I'm available."
"It was nice seeing you again," he says, grinning at her once they separate, "keep in touch."
"I will," she tells him, before he smiles and goes off into the floor to look for a dance partner.
"Huh. He didn't say bye to me," I observe as he grabs some random girl's arm and dances with them.
"What are you even doing here?," she asks loudly, turning to face me, "I told you that this isn't goinng to work-"
"No, you didn't, at least not directly," I tell her, stroking my finger against her chin lightly, "and I was sort of wondering if you would like to dance-"
"You? Dancing? Are you sure?," she says apprehensively, stepping away from me as I attempt to touch her face again. Dammit. "And I don't think that it isn't really going to solve anything, Nick, and I-"
"You heard that?"
"What the hell-"
"You called me Nick again," I say, taking a step forward. She tries to step back, but instead comes in contact with the table, so I take the opportunity to lean forward even more, trapping her with me.
"That's not anything big-"
"But it's a start," I tell her, leaning in even more. She blushes profusely again when the tip of my nose brushes, accidentally, mind you, against hers for a second, and I find myself trying hard not to laugh.
I like it when she blushes.
"Hi. I'm Nick Lucas," I say, backing off a little and offering my hand for her to shake.
She looks at me, as if I were crazy, and says, "I already know who you are-"
"You knew who I was," I correct her, "now, I'd like to introduce you to the new Nick Lucas. One, hopefully, that you'd like."
"I don't really get you," she says to me, looking a little dazed.
"Five years may not be a very long time, but it's enough for a person to realize their mistakes and change," I tell her, staring her straight in the eye, "I know I've seen mine, and I know I'm not that same person from the airport. I'd like for you to know me again."
"But Nick-"
"I'm pretty sure that a lot has happened to you too," I say, "even if you train in an ice rink six days a week, I don't expect you to just stay cooped up there. I'm sure you've done plenty of stuff, and you're not exactly the same number one fan anymore. I'd like to get to know the person I've been missing all these years."
"But you haven't been missing anything," she tells me, smiling sadly, "I swear."
"Really? Now that I'm really looking at you, I feel like I'm with someone I don't recognize. You keep on giving me pity smiles. The Macy I know has smiles that are brighter than sunshine," I say, suddenly missing the way she'd bite her bottom lip after every grin she'd give me. I shake it off, and I offer her my hand again, "hi, I'm Nick Lucas. Can I have a dance?"
She must think I'm crazy now, doesn't she?
But to my surprise, and this was a hell of a surprise, she takes my hand and weaves her fingers through mine and says, "I'm Macy Misa, and I would like dance, that is, if you think you can keep up."
"Oh, I think I can," I reply with a little smirk, to which she answers with a little bite of her lip as she drags me out unto the dance floor.
Oh damn.
This was loooooooonnnngggg.
Favourite part of that chapter? Kevin and Adam. :)) I always imagine him to be an awesome daddy.
Fun Fact: this was actually supposed to be just a really long one shot, but writing in Nick's perspective is way too much fun, so I made it a little longer. Though, I only plan two more chapters or so, I don't plan on making this a full-fledged story. Hope you stick with it anyway.
Review. Come on. Review.