Disclaimer: (since I forgot to put one in the other chapters) – I don't own any part of SWAC, or anything else in this fic. That includes Google, Dogpile, MSN, Yahoo!, Webster's Dictionary, UrbanDictionary, Nair, and the Jonas Brothers. If I did own all of these things, I don't think I'd be writing this :D
Author's Drabble: I was just thinking (and it's never good when that happens…) that I would like to dedicate this chapter to a few awesome people on this site. Scifichick07 (because she totally helped me with song suggestions, and is fun to talk to), All We Are (she leaves the sweetest PMs; reviewed all of my SWAC stories, though she didn't have to; and if you haven't already, go check out her fic 'B L O G'), and Ride2night ('cause she's awesome)!
Stupid Cute
"Webster is a Genius"
Ser-e-nade (ser-uh-neyd)
-noun
1. Music A complimentary performance given to honor or express love for someone.
---
Well, I guess that is something that I can do. I didn't take those voice lessons from good old Zac Efron for nothing.
Yes, I took voice lessons from Zac Efron. Welcome to the reason why he is no longer allowed in my studio.
But singing? To a girl? In front of a girl?
My Sonny.
Yes, I will do it. I'll find the right song, and I'll do it. I will follow Webster's Dictionary definition, and perform a serenade. (I looked up the term 'serenader', and the good old Urban Dictionary definition was 'A silver tongued devil. A professional Jigilo, a cad, a scoundrel. He is one that can make a woman do whatever he says. His conquests are as long as his, uh reputation'.)
Don't get me wrong, I dig the "can make a woman do whatever he says" part, but this is my Sonny that we're talking about. Not a Swift, Gomez, or Montana. A Monroe.
A girl with a presidential last name.
Or is it Taft?
Sonny Taft.
Sonny Roosevelt.
Sonny Monroe.
Sonny Cooper.
(With all due respect to his heirs, forget Monroe, Cooper's more presidential than that). And therefore, any girl would love to have my last name. Right?
But friends.
According to her, we're "friends".
Double up the quotation marks; give me a hand-licking kiss and a scoff. I got a "friends" out of her.
Friends.
A friend is what she is with Blondie, Rainy, Cloudy, and Ursula. Little Mermaid, folks. ) The little octopus put Nair in my shampoo once, and therefore set herself as my permanent worst enemy. One wig for two months was long enough.)
And no one knows it but the two of us. I'd like to keep it that way.
Friends.
Kill me now.
It's just unacceptable.
And now I have to serenade her.
Find the right song, Chad. Find the right song.
Ooo000ooO
"Chad, what are you doing here?"
She was in a knee-length white dress this time, with her hair falling perfectly around her dimpled face, looking stupidly cute. Somehow, I had gotten a hot tip from Blondie that Sonny was in their dressing room alone. Everyone that I passed on the way there looked at me like I was crazy, probably because I was carrying a guitar and a sheet of song lyrics, but whatever.
So when I finally reached her room, and my stupid-cute future wife inquired about my presence, all I could think to do was stand there, open-mouthed, and speechless. (NOT to quote the Jonas Brothers. And yes, I slummed down and glanced briefly at their lyrics, and I realize that 'speechless, over my head, just breathless' is in one of their precious little pop!boy songs. Kill me.) Even though that's how I feel when I'm around Sonny.
I can relate to a Jonas Brothers song.
Kill me.
Kill me.
Kill me.
But at least I'm man enough to admit it.
"Chad?" Sonny stood up and walked over to me, poking me in the chest. I swallowed hard, put forth a tighter grip on my guitar, and wondered if I should take this as my incentive to kiss her.
Sonny was biting her lip, after all.
"Chad!" Sonny clapped her hands in front of my face, which made me jump, drop the song lyrics, and nearly drop my guitar.
Ugh.
"Are you okay?" She inquired in her own little beautiful way after I scooped the lyric page back up.
"Um-" Think Chad Dylan Cooper. Freaking say a word.
…
Any damn word will do, Chad.
…
Any word.
…
Seriously, Cooper, close your damn mouth up, swallow, and say a word.
"Yahoo!"
Sonny took a step back, letting her beautiful eyes widen – and I mentally swore to kill myself. Seriously. Yahoo!
And I sang the freaking word too.
It came out sounding like: "YAH-Whoo-IE-OOOOOOOooooooO!"
No wonder my mom tells me that I'm adopted.
"I mean," I coughed, and gripped my guitar a little tighter. "I have a song for you-IE-ooooOOOOooooO."
Might as well get her used to my voice, damn it.
And you know what my beautiful little random girl did? She laughed, causing my heart to melt.
"You have a song for me?" Sonny finally stopped her musical little laugh, and my forehead and butt (yes, my butt) broke out in a sweat.
"Yeah. Sit down."
There ya go, Chad. Be the control freak that you normally are. Good for you.
I watched, hating myself, as Sonny skipped (yep, skipped) over to her little couch and plopped down. I walked over, and sat down on the floor in front of her, slinging the guitar strap over my shoulders and putting it in position.
Luckily, I stole a tuner from some Honor Society pretty boy a few months ago. Never know when you're going to need one (the tuner, I mean. Alex Noyes can go be with a Jonas Brother, for all I care)….
"Sonny," I briefly held down a D chord, and then quickly transferred to a G. "You know how when you have trouble saying things out-right, it's better to do them in a disguised way?"
"Yeah!" Sonny smiled her beautiful smile. "Kind of like humor. Get the seriousness out through it."
I grinned, my nervousness fading a little bit. "Yeah. Exactly." I strummed a B minor, and Sonny raised one of her eyebrows. "And I need to tell you something. I'm gonna do it through a song, okay?"
Way to be a man, Cooper. Ask for the ladies permission.
My Sonny nodded, causing shivers of anticipation run up and down my spine.
Here goes nothing.
"The strands in your eyes that color them wonderful stop me and steal my breath," My voice was raw, and I glanced up at Sonny nervously. She gave me a smile, and I continued, but skipped down a few lines. "I'll be captivated, I'll hang from your lips, Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above." Deep breath, Cooper. "And I'll be your crying shoulder, I'll be love's suicide, I'll be better when I'm older, I'll be the greatest fan of your life." I stopped when I finished the round of the first chorus, and bit down on my lip.
Sonny was also biting her perfectly-shaped lip, and I swear her eyes were a little watery.
I laughed bitterly, feeling embarrassed.
"I was going to do Fall for You by Secondhand Serenade, but I thought that might be too cliché." Nervousness spread like a virus through every part of my body, and my fingers were bleeding from pushing down on the guitar strings too hard.
"So, you're saying," Sonny swallowed hard, and a little tear fell down her cheek. "That if I don't return your feelings – whatever they may be, you'll still be there for me? You'll still be a fan and a friend, even if I deny you…this."
She kneeled down on the floor right in front of me, our faces only inches apart. One tear escaped my left eye, and as I nodded slowly.
Yahoo! on my manliness, she had turned me into a weakling, and I was okay with that.
"I love you, Sonny." It came out in a whisper, and Sonny's mouth fell open in a perfect "o". I just wanted to kiss her lips, but I was scared.
For the first time in my life, I was actually scared.
"I think," Sonny bit down on her lip, and gave me a shy look. And then, my heart exploded with a weird feeling when she grinned her brightest grin yet. "I could learn to live with that."
I carefully unstrapped the guitar, and placed it down gently on the floor. Then, I scooted even closer to Sonny, and she leaned it.
That feeling? Butterflies. Even though I'm a man, I still have them. After all, today was the first day of the rest of my life, to quote the Rascal Flatts.
"I love you, too, Cooper." She whispered, right before I pressed my lips down on hers, and tangled my hands in her hair, bringing her closer to me.
This wasn't a hand-licking kiss based on some bitter revenge ploy. It wasn't a kiss because I just wanted to flirt with her and challenge her. This kiss was a perfect kiss.
It was my first kiss with Sonny Monroe.
A stupid cute kiss that would turn into a billion more kisses based on the definition of love.
A/N: My goodness, you guys completely amaze me! I grinned from ear to ear with every review. It pleases me so much that you all like my version of Chad!
I've been thinking about just going ahead and writing another story with this kind of Chad, but I'm kind of lacking a plot. And plots are definitely needed, aren't they? :D So…I'm expanding this a little. Wouldn't ya'll just love to see what my inept Chad does on a first date? No? Maybe he'll call K2 and ask for his guidance..
Also, please don't take offense at Chad's comments about the Jonas Brothers, Honor Society, Zac Efron, or anyone else mentioned in the fic. That's just Chad's dumb reasoning. I, on the other hand, love them all (ask the MasterCard people, they'll confirm that I've splurged on concert tickets…) The song is "I'll Be" by Edwin McCain.
Thoughts?