The F a l l i n g Game

Sonny Monroe is not a tease. At least she claims she's not a tease. Chad Dylan Cooper begs to differ by the way her skirt is rising up against her bare thigh and her lips are feverishly attached to his.

AN: This is my first multi-chapter in a while, and I'm quite excited about it. Special thanks to my lovely beta, ride2night (Lori), and Ophelia22 who lent me her fabulous format from her amazing Glee, Puck/Rachel story "Disney Laced Profanity". Constructive criticism welcome! Now, on with the story.

Chapter 1

In which Sonny Monroe attacks Chad Dylan Cooper (with her tongue).

Two days ago, if you had told Chad Dylan Cooper that he'd be kissing Sonny Monroe in front of the whole of Condor Studios, he would of gasped in disbelief, before saying there's no way in the hell, before promptly storming off in the other direction, questioning your sanity.

But, here he was in the Condor cafeteria, during prime lunch time, kissing Sonny Monroe.

You know, if it wasn't happening to him, it might actually be a funny story.

It starts on a normal Tuesday morning (which is like any other morning) at the falls. Chad had arrived seven minutes late for makeup and hair, Portlyn had managed to set her skirt on fire (forcing her to run around in her undergarments, much to the liking of some of the males at Mackenzie Falls), the script was over dramatized, and in between takes Chad took the liberty of making out with Lydia in his dressing room.

So, about half-way through the day, when Chad was exploring Lydia's mouth, their director, Mike, bursts into the room. Yes, seriously.

Chad detaches himself from Lydia, and sends a death glare towards the door. "What the hell?!" He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets up off the sofa.

The director ignores his remark, and instead looks at Lydia. "Guess what?" He pauses, and Lydia stops looking at her nails.

"What?"

"It's the scene when Penelope and Chloe get in a slap fight." Mike smiles, and Chad thinks it's so big and forced that it might actually crack his face. "And we have no Penelope. Get. Your. Ass. On. Set!"

Lydia quickly exits the room, flipping her long, dark hair over the shoulder.

After his eyes followed her out, Chad shifts his gaze to Mike. Mike is in a mood, and you don't want to be with Mike when he's in a mood. Trust him. Being the smart person he is, Chad quickly and silently makes his way over to the door in such a way that it could put a super spy to shame, because it's just that sneaky. Almost like a Puma. A smile grows across Chad's face at the idea of comparing him and the big cat. He is totally like a Puma. A strong, quick, steady, majestic, attractive Puma. Rwar.

His Puma dreams are quickly cut short when a hand grabs his arm before he can even get one foot out the door.

"Wipe that God-damn smile off your face! You're not going anywhere but with me, Mr. Cooper!"

Mike's tone seems to get brighter, and his smile seems to get bigger (if that was even possible), which means he's angry, because the happier he gets, the more his blood boils. For someone so small, he was certainly intimidating. Chad get's this lump in his throat that he tries to swallow, because really, everyone knows what going with Mike means.

It means going to see Mitch.

And going to see Mitch can either be really good or really bad because he's the producer. But in times like this, it can only be the later of the two.

And suddenly Chad feels like a wimpy house cat. Meow.

So it begins with kissing, china doll smiles, and cats, and then continues like this:

When he gets to Mitch's office, he doesn't know what to expect. There could be yelling or laughing, smiling or crying, it's a complete situation of luck; he hopes lucky the leprechaun feels generous and kind, and will be on his side today.

He knocks politely before entering the room, and as soon as he opens the door, he does a double take on the name tag to make sure he read it right, because this had to be some sort of joke.

Chad had practically prepared himself for anything but this. There on the floor, with his fat ass sitting on a new yoga mat, was the Falls producer, Mitch. And it wasn't enough that he was in pretzel position either. No. He was ohm-ing, like it was actually going to help his karma or increase his chi, or whatever the hell he was trying to do.

Chad stops short, cocking his head, and staring at the scene like maybe something would magically make sense all of a sudden.

"Don't just stand, letting bad vibes through the open door!" Upon Mitch's request, Mike ushers the teenager in and sits down on the floor like this was totally normal.

Which it isn't.

"Co-omh join us Mr. Cooper." Mitch's voice came out in some sing-song type way, and Mike didn't have to give him a second glare before Chad's buttox was attached to the ground like a magnet.

"Chad, some things have co-" Mike stops short. "-Ohm to our attention."

Chad bites his tongue trying not to laugh at the awkwardness. "Like?"

"Well for starters-"

"We are at peace, use your inside voice Michael."

The pussy (correction: pansy; no need to diss the cats) of a director nods, stuttering slightly. "Yes sir." Oh God. He's like some tamed platypus (which is a totally lame animal, because it's too afraid to give birth to live young that it has to lay eggs. Really, what type of mammal is that?). His so-called director recomposes himself, letting out an exasperated breath.

"Chad, you came in late today."

Chad shrugs, clicking his tongue. "So?" If this really is what the conversation is about, he so doesn't get the reason he's in here, contorting his body into shapes that shouldn't even be possible.

"And you came in late yesterday."

"And?"

"And? Well, and the day before."

Chad's brow furrows. "Your point?"

"His point, Mr. Chad Dylan Cooper, is that you come in late every day." Chad doesn't miss the thankful look Mike shoots Mitch, and he feels totally double-teamed by the Mike and Mitch Duo. Mike is the Han Solo to Mitch's Chewbacca, the Bonnie to his Clyde, the Scooby to his Shaggy.

Chad doesn't like comparing them to such legendary bad-asses though. He much prefers to think of them as Dumb and Dumber.

"Well, it didn't seem to be a problem." He sneers; trying to force his legs into the position that Mike had his in. This yoga stuff was hard.

"Well it is a problem, and so is your reputation with the press."

"My reputation with the-" As one of his eyebrows disappeared under his golden fringe, Chad releases his legs, and stretches them out in front of him, massaging them lightly. "What's the matter with being a heartthrob?"

"Heartthrobs use their umbrellas to hit paparazzo's cars?" Two scrutinizing looks are shot towards the teen.

"It was one time, and I didn't mean to, the flashes were going off in my eyes-"

"Heartthrobs shove puppies?"

"Ok, you know what, that-"

"Heartthrobs illegally set off cherry bombs and stink pellets backstage in Zac Efron's dressing room before-"

"Ok! I get it! But come on, brothers!" Mike scrunches his nose at the word. "Everyone makes mistakes, even someone as perfect and Chadtastic as me!"

Scoffing, the shorter, platypussier one of the two older men rolls his eyes, and lets his taller, stouter companion take over completely.

"Mr. Cooper," The balding man stands, stretching his hands over his head and takes a few deep breaths. "The thing is, first the bad press was good. It got the ratings up. But now, people are boycotting the show. And you know what that does to ratings? It sends them down. And those down ratings are causing me to stress, which is why my therapist suggested this girly Yoga-Pilates shit, which is another story, regardless, but leads to the same point: We need those ratings up. We need to show America a side of you they've never seen. We need Chad 2.0: a new and improved, loving, kind, caring Chad."

Chad just laughs, because they can't be serious. Chad Dylan Cooper doesn't care or love or anything. Chad Dylan Cooper just does and acts and says. There is no Chad 2.0, but to humor them (and not, you know, get fired and watch the show fail completely), he decides to act the slight bit interested.

"And how do you suppose we do this?"

Mitch forces his fat leg up in an attempted tree position, and snaps two chubby fingers, keeping his breathing even. "Michael, would you please?" He points over to a manila folder situated on his desk. Opening the folder, Mike smiles slyly, deciding to put an end to the unsilent silence currently overtaking the room.

"Mr. Cooper, meet your new girlfriend."

Chad furrows his brow, and snatches the folder from his director's hands. Flipping through the pictures and pages, the teen's face crosses between a mix of confusion, horror, and shock.

"Uh, she's- she's not my girlfriend."

"She is now. Want to stay on the show? We need ratings up, and why not get them up by making a whole Romeo-Juliet scenario between two hit shows for Condor Studios? The goody-girl and the former bad-boy. The fans, press, and the whole of America will eat it up!"

"How am I even supposed to get her to agree on this?" Chad lets out a small scoff of disbelief, closing the folder. This cannot be happening to him.

"Seduce her, take her out to dinner, woo her however you kids do it these days, I don't care. Just make sure press gets the photos."

"Why? I mean, don't people get to choose who they date?"

"Love isn't a choice, Chad. It just happens. So. Make. It. Happen." Mitch returns his leg to the floor and grabs the folder, tossing it back on his desk. "Now get out! You're invading my karma-bubble."

Invading his karma-bubble? Yeah, doesn't make sense. But as Chad makes his way back to his dressing room, he starts to realize not much of anything today makes sense.

So after Chad found his inner chi and made a quick stop at his dressing room, he set off for the cafeteria, and it all led to this:

Chad saunters through the doors to the cafeteria, hoping to find a steak with his name on it, and Sonny Monroe.

Crossing the room in his cool, collected persona, he reaches the food-lady, and asks for his special. One object of his desire acquired, and one (unfortunately) to go. He heads to the middle of the cafeteria, sitting down at a vacant table near the Randoms, hoping that Sonny would soon appear, and he could quickly start the whole ordeal, so it could end just as quickly.

Slicing his tender, medium rare steak, he watches Needy and Geeko's lame attempts to charm the cashier, laughing to himself at their complete lack of skills. He is just about to take his first bite of perfection, but before he knows what hits him (literally), a pink vision is on him, full on making-out with him, attacking him with their tongue. He tastes her strawberry lip gloss, and can smell her lavender hair, and starts to think: Oh. My. God. This. Is. So. Hot.

But of course, that's when she has to pull away, and dampen the moment by saying: "Just go with it, ok?"

Well, that ruins it.

Well, that and the fact that it was Sonny-freaking-Monroe.

And that? That's how he ends up making out with Sonny Monroe in the middle of lunch, which isn't the worst thing, considering.

AN: So, you decide. Shall I continue? Like it? Hate it? Comments/suggestions/criticism? The button is right there, so please drop a review on your way out! Thank you.