*(1) Star Struck

A/N:

Summary: Aaron Christopherson is a big fan of Struck By Lightning—both movie and book. One day he wakes up, and he's not in Ohio anymore... But in Clover, California. Which is odd, considering it doesn't exist in his world... He decides that it can't be that bad to be able to live in a world where Carson Phillips actually exists. That is, until he falls for him...

XXX

Aaron was sitting up in his bed, once again reading one of his favorite books.

He was just getting to his favorite part (the part where Carson pulls his own homecoming float) when his best friend Daniel peered down from her bunk. "You still reading that?" She asked. "You usually read a lot faster than that, Aaron."

He laughed and shook his head. "No, I've already finished it, I'm just reading it again."

"Lemme guess," she started. "Fifth time?"

He rolled his eyes playfully. "Please... Sixth."

"Hey," she said. "It's already gonna be 2. You better get to sleep before sister Amy catches you."

"Why should I sleep?" He asked cynically. "It's not like I have anything to look forward to when I wake up. It's just gonna be another day of "Keep that up and you'll never get adopted!", "People want a nice catholic boy." And my favorite, "God will forgive you when you grow out of this phase."." He mocked in a high pitched, fake British voice. "Yup, they obviously respect me and my orientation, so I should respect their rules, right." He rolled his eyes.

"I'm telling you to go to sleep, not start an equality movement." She scoffed. "Kids these days, all they care about is starting revolutions. I knew letting you watch Les Mis was a bad idea."

He snorted. "Whatever... I'm too old to be adopted already... In a few months, both you and me will be free. No more stupid rules, no more stupid "volunteer work", and we get to be our own people."

"That's a nice dream," she said. "Too bad nothing good ever happens to us."

"It will," he said with a big yawn. "Just wait and see."

The first thing that told Aaron he wasn't in Ohio anymore was the fact that his toes weren't freezing off, and the second clue was that wherever he was did not smell like the orphanage. As in it smelled halfway decent.

At this epiphany, he bolted straight up to find himself in a bedroom with yellow walls covered with posters of Katy Perry, Wicked, and various others of his favorite singers and tv shows. If he had his own room, this is what he imagine it would look like.

He threw the covers off, stood up, and looked down. He was wearing Harry Potter pjs. "What the fuck?" He asked himself, shaking his head. This must be some weird ass dream. He told himself.

He decided to explore and headed down a hallway that lead into a living room, and past that a kitchen. On the kitchen table were the keys to a car and an official looking folder that was labeled "Aaron Christopherson". He cautiously moved towards it and slowly reached out to grab and open it. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he realized it was school registration papers for... "Holy shit," he muttered as he read the name of the school. Clover High School. Included in the papers was a schedule that included Pre-Cal, Humanities, AP Physics, choir, lunch and lastly... "Writers Club?" He asked himself aloud. He forced a laugh. "Alright, Dannie," he said. "I get it, you're hilarious. You can stop now! Ha ha! Funny!" He mocked.

Nobody came jumping out if hidden corners to say "gotcha!" His best friend wasn't pulling his leg, and if she was, she was damned well determined to keep it up longer than necessary.

Now was about the time he started flipping his shit. Running his fingers through his unruly curly hair (he was so distraught he didn't even bother to straighten it), and turning around nervously. "Oh my fucking shit," he said. "Alright, Aaron, deep breath in, deep breath out." He followed his own advice, but didn't feel any better.

He took a seat and buried his face in his arms. "WHAT THE FUCK?" He yelled, his outburst muffled by his arms.

As he slowly lifted his head, his eyes caught sight of the car keys and he couldn't help but be a little curious; after all he was a teenage boy. So he picked them up and cautiously headed outside. He nearly passed out when he saw the 2012 Camaro, black with two silver racing stripes down the middle of the front hood and traveling all the way through the back of the car. "Sweet jesus," he muttered in awe. He walked quickly to the drivers side and peeked inside. It was beautifully upholstered in black leather, its dashboards complete with a silver lined radio.

He slowly made his way around the car, admiring it. He glanced at the keys in his hands, and at the car, then to the folder in his other hand. He smirked mischievously, then rushed inside to go change (his closet was inexplicably embellished with all his clothes plus some more that definitely suited his style). He decided on a purple button up shirt and some bright highlighter yellow skinny jeans.

He grabbed the folder, the keys, rushed outside and hopped into the (his?) car. If someone wanted him to go to Colver High, then who was he to complain?

Aaron slowly knocked on the door to his first class. The teacher opened it and cautiously asked, "Can I help you?"

"Um, yeah, I'm new here... This is my first class..." The teacher sighed and rolled his eyes, leaving Aaron to wonder what he did wrong. The teacher opened the door wide so he could pass through, and pointed to an empty desk. "You can have the seat right behind Carson—the kid in the blue jacket."

Aaron literally almost screamed, HOLY FUCKING SHIT, but then reminded himself that even if this was a trippy dream, or alternate universe, he still had to act sane... Right?

Doing his best to keep it together (what was air even?), he walked down the isle and took his seat behind the Carson Philips. He let out a deep breath, and Carson must've thought it was a sigh because he muttered, "Yeah, welcome to hell..." To him. Holy CRAP! He thought. Carson just fucking talked to me, he fucking, I just HOLY SHIT!

"Ok," the teacher (who hadn't even bothered to introduce himself to Aaron) started his lecture up again. "Can anyone tell me which famous president was known as Camelot?"

Justin Walker raised his hand. "Um... Was it Clinton?"

"No, that was came-a-lot," Carson joked, laughing at his own joke.

Aaron snorted a laugh, then looked around and realized people were staring at him, and stopped slowly. He raised an eyebrow. "You guys really don't get it?" He asked. He didn't think they were actually that dumb. "Clinton was the president that claimed to have sex with about 2,000 women."

Justin honked a laugh. "Ha! I get it now! Because he—"

"Mr. Walker, I think we get it now!" The teacher interrupted. He then turned and glared at Aaron. "I would hate to send you to the principal's office on the first day Mr..."

"Christopherson," Aaron answered for him. "And, what plausible reason would you have for sending me to the office? Was anything I said historically inaccurate? That is what Clinton said, isn't it?"

The teacher sighed and drew a hand across his face. "Ok! Whatever! Just don't let it happen again..."

Aaron shrugged. "No promises."

When he focused back to the front, he realized Carson had turned around and was staring at him, eyebrow raised like he was slightly impressed. Aaron's heart might have well just left it's cavity because he was flipping out. He tried to say hi, but all that came out was a squeak that he covered up with a cough.

Suddenly, the bell rang and every student grabbed their belongings and headed out the door.

Carson was the first one out, and Aaron had to rush to catch him in the hallways. He ran up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. Carson swiveled around. "Hi," Aaron breathed.

Carson furrowed his eyebrows. "Um... Hi?" And he turned around to keep walking, but Aaron caught up to him.

"I'm Aaron," he introduced. "Aaron Christopherson."

"And I'm going to be late to class if you don't stop harassing me."

"What do you have next," he asked brightly.

Carson sighed irritatedly. "Anatomy... Free cake class to keep my GPA up..."

"That's cool!" Aaron exclaimed. He checked his schedule. "I've got Choir—" Carson snorted at that.

"Choir is just a bunch—"

But Aaron cut him off with an eye roll. "Yeah, I know a bunch of people singing back up vocals for the instructors tone deaf daughter."

Carson shot an amazed glance at him. "How did you know I was gonna say that?" He asked.

"Lucky guess," Aaron lied. He shrugged. "Well, anyways... After that, I've got Lunch, Math, and finally... Writers Club!"

Carson stopped dead in his tracks. "You write?"

Aaron nodded slightly. "Yeah... A little. You're the president of Writers Club, right?" Carson nodded, not knowing if he was more surprised at the fact that someone knew what the club was, had actually signed up for it, or actually knew who he was. "Guess I'll see you around, then."

And then Aaron gave him this little smirk—this little irritating smirk that made it seem like he was in control of everything, like nothing could make him loose his cool, this annoyingly charming smile—and spun around, leaving Carson alone with his thoughts. It was probably the first time he wasn't actually in control of a conversation. It was irritating, yet, triggered his curiosity. He pursed his lips, who the fuck was this new kid and why was he so... Different?

Aaron was one of the first ones to show up to the choir room, and when he got there, he caught a glimpse of fine red hair, familiar green eyes, and a pale face lined with freckles. "Dannie!" He shouted, quickly running towards the girl, who swiveled around with a puzzled look on her face. Aaron practically tackled her in a hug, face beaming with happiness. "Dannie! It's you, oh god it's you!"

She immediately pushed him away in horror. "Do I know you?" She asked.

The smile faded from his cheeks. "Wh-what do you mean? It's me! Aaron!"

"I don't think we've ever met..." And Aaron's heart fell about a thousand stories.

She turned around and headed back to her place on the risers just as the tardy bell rang and everyone filed into their places.

The director looked at his roster and said "I do believe we have a new student to welcome! Aaron Christopherson?" Aaron half heartedly raised his hand. "Would you please step down and introduce yourself?"

He stepped down from the risers and announced, "My name is Aaron Christopherson, I'm from Columbus, Ohio."

"Welcome to the group, Aaron." The director stated as he took his place again. He then gestured to a short girl with brown hair. "Ashley, will you please pass out the new sheet music to everybody?" The girl smiled and nodded excitedly. "As you know, our Coffeehouse Night is coming up, and we always do three group numbers in addition to the many other solos, duets, etc... And here is your first one!"

Aaron smiled brightly at the song; it was one of his favorites. Somebody To Love by Queen.

From the middle of the risers, a blond boy with an unusually large mouth groaned. "Don't get me wrong, Mr. Adams, you have great taste, but we always do old, broadway, girly-ish songs... Can't we do some rock-and-roll songs, something a little less... Gay?"

Aaron's head snapped in that direction. "Do you have something against gay people?" He asked accusingly. Aaron was a cool guy, he did his best to keep his calm, but some things he'd taken enough of for two lifetimes. Like stupid remarks like this.

The blond boy looked at him with a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look. "I-what, no!"

"Then why do you use "gay" like its a bad thing...?" He glared at him with a look that said Say something, bitch. I fucking dare you.

The entire class was silent as the blond boy stumbled over his words. "That's not what I meant—"

"Oh, so you didn't mean to use that word to describe something you thought was dumb, or lame?" Aaron was on fire. "Well guess what, asshole, I happen to be gay. So think about what comes out of your mouth next time, ok?"

The boy opened his mouth to respond, but Mr. Adams cut him off. "Alright, alright, lets take a moment to simmer down so we can try sightreading the new piece a little bit..."

The rest of the period, they split up into their sections (Aaron was somewhat upset that both he and the boy were Tenor 1s) and attempted to sing the 8 part harmonies. It actually wasn't too bad.

The bell rang, and everyone swarmed towards the doors. Aaron was out in the hallway when someone tapped his shoulders. He turned to face the blond boy who made the remark earlier. "Look, dude," the boy started. "I didn't mean to offend you, I swear. It's just that... It's Clover, ya know? Well, probably not since you just moved here..." He scratched the back of his head while Aaron just stood there with his arms crossed, unconvinced. "I'm sorry, and it'll never happen again..." The boy smiled at him. "My name's Sam." He introduced. "Sam Evans... And if there's anything I can do to make it up to you, let me know, Kay?" He nudged Aaron on the side, gave him a quick wink, and sauntered off into the crowd.

It was then he noticed Sam grab some girl's wrist and laugh, "Wait for me!"

His eyes widened in realization as he noticed the girl had red hair and freckles. "Holy shit..." He muttered. Dannie and Sam were walking really close together... Too close. "I think Dannie is with Sam..."

His last class of the day was Writer's Club. Aaron was giddy with excitement. He knew that it would take so much effort not to recite his favorite lines! How could he not!?

He practically pranced into the room, buzzing with excitement, where apparently he and Malerie were the only ones who actually wanted to be there.

Carson walked up to the front of his classroom. "We have a new member joining us today!" He announced. "I'd like you all to welcome Aaron Christopherson!"

Aaron stood up and was met with different types of applause, sarcastic silent applause from Vicki, overly enthusiastic from Malerie, and Emilio just kept shouting "Welcome to America!" And "I love America!" In a thick accent.

"Run," said Vicki, not so subtly taking her headphones out. "Run as fast as you possibly can."

Carson glared at her, but kept on with his agenda. "So!" He began. "Vicki, lets start with you, weather report?"

She sighed, took her earbud out and looked outside the window. "It's cloudy," she said redundantly, stuffing her ear again.

Carson sighed. "Emilio? Anything on foreign affairs?"

The boy lit up. "I love America!" He announced.

"Right..." Malerie raised her hand high up in the air, excited. "Yes, Mal?" Carson asked.

She pulled some files from her binder. "I did collect these kitten pictures...

Carson let his mouth hang open slightly, partly from exhaustion, partly from condescension. "Progress..." He admitted.

Aaron raised his hand.

Carson looked a bit taken aback. "Uh, yes?"

"Uhm, I don't know if I've got to like, work my way up or anything, but I would like to help in whatever way I can so... Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it." And he smiled a little too charmingly. Like he knew Carson couldn't say no to an offer like that. He literally couldn't. The Chronicle was the absolute lowest it had ever been, and he needed all the help he could get.

"Well..." He started. "We could always use a prose or poetry section."

"Will do!" Aaron answered.

The bell rang, and the majority of the class sprang right for the door, but Aaron stayed behind, watching as Carson packed away his laptop and things, not even knowing what to do because what do you even say to a fictional character?

Carson groaned and turned around. "Did you need something?" He asked harshly.

Aaron took a step back. "I-what? No! I'm just..." He took a deep breath in. "I guess you could say I'm a fan of yours—" Carson raised an eyebrow. "A fan of your work, I mean..." He covered up.

Carson furrowed his eyebrows. "Did the student council put you up to this?"

Aaron chortled. "As if. That group of ungrateful asshats are probably my least favorite chara—" he cut himself short and corrected himself. "My least favorite people in this school." He chuckled. "And I've been here for less than a day."

"Huh, I guess we've got something in common then."

Aaron beamed at that. "I guess we do..."

Carson's phone buzzed and he pulled it out to check it. He groaned in annoyance. "I have to go," he explained. "My mom's got an appointment with Dr. Dealer and she needs a ride. I hope that fucking piece of garbage breaks down on her ass so she can see the shit I put up with." He put his phone away and nodded approvingly towards Aaron. "See you around, Aaron."

And with that, he took off, leaving him alone with his thoughts in the writing class. As soon as the coast was clear, he threw his hands into his hair. "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" He screamed. "I'M IN A FUCKING BOOK!"

A/N: so that was chapter one! (I'm terrible at endings at writing actually really) also, fuck da rules Sam is there because you can soooo imagine him and Aaron being a dynamic duo going to parties and fucking shit up because that's What THEY DO!
Also, Dannie's face claim is the girl who plays Alexis on Castle (Castle's daughter)
HUSH I DO WHAT I WANT IT'S MY STORY PLS DONR JUDGE ME