Wow, this was a long update. I swear I don't normally take this long.... unless I'm grounded. Which I was.
I was seriously blown away with the reviews. I mean, this is the most reviews I've gotten for a fanfic on the first chapter ever. I loved them sooo much that I'm dedicating this chapter to everyone who reviewed. Here's to:
BrittBrat500, Gilaureloth, h, purplenpeace4evaaa, May Lily, bcookie, nameuscool, readergirl12345, TrinityFlower of Memories, ride2night, my beta: ThisIsMyDisguise, Haley Rose, sonnycentral (who basically inspired me to write this story, check out her profile and read her fics) and Nikki. You guys are awesome :D
Besides that, I had written four more chapters for this story, but then looking back at them I realized that I wrote garbage, so I rewrote at least one chapter, which I'm giving to you now. Enjoy :)
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"Oh my gosh, you're Chad Dylan Cooper! Possibly the best actor of our generation—are you kidding me!?"
--Demi Lovato as Sonny Munroe auditioning for the part of Sonny Munroe in the Chad Dylan Cooper Story. (Just thought I'd clear the quote up. ;D)
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CPOV
I walked into the plane, and sauntered slowly down the aisle. I had no bags, so the only things that were weighing me down were two cells in my jacket and a blue wallet in my front pocket. And the blue folder tucked under my arm, which was the reason I was here on-board today.
I had been cast as the lead in Black Bullet; Condor's hottest big-screen action film. The press greatly anticipated the beginning of filming, because it was thought to be the biggest blockbuster of the New Year. With a budget of 210 million, the movie was getting a whole bunch of buzz. Especially now, since Megan Fox got thrown off as the female lead five days ago. At first I was personally disappointed because I wanted to make out with her, but then she went ahead and called me an "amateur", and I decided she wasn't good enough to be kissed by me anyways. Who did she think she was, making fun of the best actor of the generation, namely me? Good riddance.
So everyone was trying to find out who landed the big-time role, but the director, Harris Gregory, refused to say a word to anyone until filming began. Hell, even I didn't know who I was supposed to be working with for the next three and a half months.
Jake Andrews was your typical gun-twirling Bugatti-driving badass with a mission: making out with the hot girl while blowing up half of New York. One of the reasons I took the role in the first place was 'cause the guy was the sickest character I'd ever portrayed. He was such a different character than Mackenzie. Lately, the writers had been making him seem more like a fag than usual, with the whole romantic, perfect pretty-boy act. As if deep down he wasn't the spoiled rotten son of the economical leader of the water business. It was exciting to play the tough guy for a change-- Jake was a beast.
I looked at my ticket in an attempt to find my seat, but I had no such luck. People would think that I had ridden on a public plane before, but the truth was, I never had. My parents had always been rich—since before I was born. My father, ironically enough, was the C.E.O. of the top-selling juice manufacturing company in the nation. We didn't own a private jet ourselves, at the time, but my dad had political friends who did. We would always ride on their planes for vacation, because my dad only went on vacation with his friends anyway. I remembered a time when I was barely five, I would gaze out of a jet's window while my dad and his friends would talk over some scotch, mom would be gossiping with their wives, and I would be left alone to dream of fame . . .
Of course, it was around two months later that I got my big break as America's most beloved child actor. Now, I flew in my private jet, but unfortunately, something in it was a bit loose, and now it was in repairs. I had spent the last 20 minutes arguing on the phone with the company, because it was supposed to be ready before my departure to New York.
I walked over to an aisle seat which I thought read 15A, but I couldn't tell because it was written in an extremely loopy cursive on the side of the chair. There was a brunette girl sitting at the window. I couldn't tell if she was my age or way older, because her face was completely obscured from my view. I talked to her like I would to a middle-aged woman, just in case I was mistaken.
"Excuse me, but is this seat 15A?" I said politely. I was surprised at how the tone of my voice came out; I sounded like the living dead, probably due to the fact that I had woken up at five-thirty in the morning to pack.
The brunette girl turned around and I nearly jumped out of my own skin when I saw her face.
I couldn't believe my eyes. Sonny Munroe was not sitting down, a few feet away, riding on a first class flight to New York City. But, there was no other explanation. My eyes never deceived me.
"Chad?" she said, her face contorted into undeniable surprise.
"Sonny?" I said, just as bewildered. She blinked a few times and sat up straighter in her chair. She eyed me oddly, as if seeing me for the first time. I didn't find it strange, because I had a feeling I was doing the same thing.
"What are you doing here?" she asked bluntly. She looked a little mad, but that could have just been my imagination. Still, I couldn't help but give her a witty response. There was no harm in cracking a little joke to brighten up an awkward greeting, right?
I smirked. "I'm flying to New York, just like you are, apparently. Unless you got your plane ticket mixed up and you're really supposed to be going to Wisconsin. That would be a great explanation for why you're sitting in my seat on a first class cabin to NYC."
She scowled. I guess she didn't take my joke very well, because she looked irritated. She took a deep breath and zeroed in on me. "Wow, Chad, you're hilarious. Okay so first, when you buy a plane ticket for a plane that isn't yours, you don't own an entire row," she said. "And actually, I'm going to New York to shoot a movie. I guess I don't have to be in a pathetic drama to be considered a serious actress." she smiled sweetly, and I couldn't even guess she had said anything particularly venomous until my blood began to boil, an immediate reaction when I knew something was up.
I scoffed and began to contradict her. I didn't even process her words, but I took it as a pathetic attempt to try to make a comeback. "You know what, Sonny--"
"Come on!" a voice boomed from behind me, interrupting us. "Kid, you're delaying us even more. So stop fighting with your girlfriend and sit down!"
I hadn't even noticed that everyone from the first class cabin had been looking towards me and Sonny and watching us fight, but now that I had taken a good look, I turned red. So I did the first thing that sprang to my mind. I turned around, and looked at the middle-aged man in the seat behind me.
"Okay first, she isn't my girlfriend. Second, don't talk to me like that, 'cause I don't do orders. Dude, do you know who I am?" I said vehemently, then I changed my expression abruptly. I gave him my million dollar smile, knowing he'd recognize me. He cocked his head to the side, as if really thinking about what I said. He frowned.
"I don't know, a bratty kid coming back from boarding school?" he said acidically, "I really don't care, just sit down so we can freaking leave already!"
I was appalled. "No one talks to Chad Dylan Coo--"
"Chad, stop!" Sonny shout-whispered. She grabbed my arm violently and pulled me down. I was so shocked, I just slumped into my seat without a fight. I surrendered, and put on my seat-belt. Now my face was as red as the flight attendants hair.
The seat-belt sign flickered on and I was thankful for something to do with my hands while my face cooled down. When I couldn't feel heat in my cheeks, I took a snide look at Sonny.
I knew it was partially my fault, but I couldn't bring myself to do anything but put the blame on her. "You didn't need to make such a big show you know."
She laughed, a short little chuckle. The bright light coming from the airplane window behind her made her eyes seem almost hazel-like. "That's saying a lot, coming from the King of Drama."
We fell silent again. I couldn't tell if Sonny was joking or being sarcastic, but then I couldn't think too much of it, because the plane took off, and then Sonny was practically glued against the window like a little kid. My head spun with accusations, but I decided to keep silent. I let out a breath, settled down in my seat, and prepared myself for yet another six-hour flight to NYC.
"Wow, L.A. looks so small from up here," she said suddenly. "Is it like this every time you go on a plane?"
"Wait, you're kidding me, you've never been on a plane before?" I said. I was about to crack up, but then I reminded myself that Sonny was a Random, and Randoms didn't get nominated for Academy Awards, weren't on magazine covers, and didn't shoot specials in exotic locations, like the members of Mackenzie Falls. So they never had a reason to leave L.A. I was about to ask her why she was here but she began to speak. I frowned and debated upon tuning out her blabber to background noise, but I decided against it.
She had looked away from the window to face me. I missed what she said in the beginning because I had temporarily tuned her out. ". . . Second time on a plane since leaving Wisconsin. But it was different . . . I was on a red-eye, so I was asleep the entire time."
I nodded in understanding because I didn't feel like talking to her. Damn, if my castmates ever found out I had a decent conversation with her. . . .
"So why are you here?" she asked quizzically. I looked back at my blue folder and smiled. I finally had a reason to boost myself up. Not that I bragged all the time; I just really liked discussing my work with everyone. And I certainly had a unique way of phrasing my thoughts.
"You don't know? It's all over Tween Weekly, you know, the one where I'm on the cover? Again?" I snorted as I saw her expression change from serene to exasperated.
"I was just trying to be polite in asking you a question, but it looks like I can't go two seconds without hearing you talking like you're promoting yourself. Just forget it." she sighed in irritation.
I let my anger seep in gradually, slowly boiling like a pot. There were a few times that I got truly mad, and I felt like if this continued, I would become pissed off. Openly criticizing my faults hit a nerve.
"So," I said slowly, keeping my eyes shut as I tried to forget that remark, "What are you here for again?"
"Oh, you didn't hear the first time?" she asked sweetly, but I could almost hear a million sarcastic remarks milling through her head. I ignored them.
"No, I didn't. So what brings you to New York?" I said bitingly. She lifted her head up and sighed. Her face looked a bit depressed and instantly I regretted sounding mean. Did I phrase it wrong?
"I don't know," she said softly. She turned her head towards me. "Mister Condor wanted me to sign up for a role, and everyone encouraged me but . . . I don't know. I feel like I'm not good enough for it."
As I processed her words, I smirked. "Jeez, Sonny, really? There you go again with the actor insecurity thing. You know, I might use that one to win over the tabloids."
She frowned. "Really, Chad, really?"
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, sorry. What I meant to say was that, uhmmm, you'll do just fine with whatever you're doing." I looked away from her. "Even if it's an independent flick that goes straight to DVD." I muttered under my breath.
She didn't seem to have heard me, because she smiled. "Wow, thanks. You know, that's probably the nicest thing you've said to me for as long as I've known you."
I grinned. She was in a better mood now, not so touchy. "I guess I have my moments."
She pursed her lips and looked straight at me with narrowed eyes. "When you're not being a jerk, right?"
"Right." I admitted to her lamely though some small part of me recognized the truth in her words.
I returned back to my original position, not feeling up to conversation anymore. I just needed much-needed sleep if I was going to do that interview tonight for E! News after I unpacked. I felt for the side button on the seat and gently pressed it, making me lean backwards. I hoped the guy who yelled at me before got pissed.
Pretty soon my head was filled with thoughts of NYC, my Aston Martin, and Megan Fox. Then I slowly drifted to sleep.
Welllll, obviously Chad isn't that OOC, but he's a bit more mature, I guess? Not by much though. I promise you he will get less annoying and more realistic later on. I'm just trying to get inside of his head. I mean, he seems cocky, but it's like he's hiding something.... hmmm.... he's a complex character and I want to write him honestly, but not unrealistically. It's difficult, and I'm sorry if I wrote him bad.
By the way, I need some help. I kind of made up this title at the last minute, when I heard my sister watching the commercial for Disney's "Summer of Stars," and I just wanted to publish it already. So that's what I named it. I want to change it, but I have no idea what to call it. So any suggestions? The only thing I'm trying to stay away from is something like... "Sonny with a Chance of _______" kind of thing. Cause to me, that seems a little overdone. =/.
Other than that, REVIEW!