(A/N): After suffering from a serious case of Writer'sBlock-itis (which I was in the hospital for) and being held back from some Internet restrictions, I have finally updated the fourth installment of DMRI! (Which I will now be calling this story, as the original name takes too much effort to type :D
Seriously though, guys, I was almost about to give up on this story. Sad face :( But I continued, for some reason. I guess I was touched by an angel.
For those who haven't seen it yet, please check out the trailer to my other story, My Heart Will Go On! I'm so excited for this story, and I'm putting a lot of time and effort into it: dragging the plotline out to a ridiculously slow pace :) Just visit my profile and click on the link. And now, without further ado, Discussion Over a Starbucks Espresso! Enjoy :)
~~Dreams Make Reality Impossible~~
~Chapter 4- Discussion Over a Starbucks Espresso
Chad's POV
"No, Port, I don't like her! How many times do I have to tell you?" I whined. Loudly, for that matter. I instinctively ran my fingers through my lush field of golden hair. Hey, you can't exactly blame me for being annoyed, though. I'd pretty much been stalked 24/7 by every single freaking member of my cast for the past couple days. The past eight days, if we want to get specific. Pure torture. Just shoot me now.
"Fine, love then!" Portlyn countered, twirling her seriously tangled hair around her look-at-me-I-really-need-a-manicure fingers, stirring her untouched latte as she did so. We were sitting in the dark corner of a tiny Starbucks in the middle of nowhere. Portlyn had called me the night before, and asked me to meet her there. I instantly regretted accepting her offer. I did not want to push back an hour of my beauty sleep to talk about feelings that I didn't even feel. The place where we sat was secluded, and far from the studio and the main parts of Hollywood. We had tried to stay hidden to avoid the paparazzi. Who knows what inconsiderate rumors and gossip that could conjure with a simple picture?
"Love, like, same thing." I rolled my eyes for effect and sipped my espresso.
Okay, big mistake. Portlyn gasped in her oh-so-dramatic way, thrust out her arms, and started… scratching me. I mean, what's up with that? She like literally leapt across the table and began attacking my beautiful, flawless face. And seriously, her nails are like claws. They hurt.
"They are so not!" she cried, totally ignoring the stares she was getting from random people in the room. "Like is an innocent crush. It's something that usually is gone in, at the most, two years. More like just an infatuation. Love is deeper, and only happens a few times in one lifetime. It's strangely magical. Love," she said, lowering her voice to a deadly whisper and leaning closer to me, "is what you have with Sonny."
I slapped her. Okay, I know that guys aren't supposed to slap girls, but that's just sexist. It's sexist, okay? I mean, seriously, girls can stick up for themselves, and feminists across the globe are probably mentally agreeing with me at this very moment. Because, look, if we don't treat them with respect, and convince them that they are strong, will they ever respect us and each other? What about the whole movement on women's rights? Have they really come all this way just to be neglected?
Oh, god, I sound like such a wuss.
My thoughts were interrupted by the soft wailing and moaning of Portlyn. I'd made a big impact on her cheek. You could see my finger marks sort of ornamenting it. It was a light shade of red (you would probably call it pink), and it looked like my slap hurt. So, being the gentleman that I am, I felt bad. But only for a second, because I remembered what we'd been talking about, and why I was there in the first place.
"Ow," she moaned, gingerly touching her face.
"Just shut the hell up, Portlyn," I rasped defeatedly, "and I won't do that again. My rep can't stand something like that leaking out."
The she-idiot put a finger to her chin and pondered, completely forgetting the fact that I had just slapped her with all my strength.
Suddenly, Portlyn's face got all perky and lit up, kind of like she finally realized something. She gets that expression a lot. Then she jabbed her index finger into my chest.
Ouch.
"So you admit that you do like her!" Her triumphant smile was evident on her face.
Oh crap. Oh freaking shit.
"Psh, no! Why would you think that? Psh… yeah you are stupid." I took a colossal gulp of my coffee to avoid talking. I instantly regretted it. My throat felt like it was (literally) on fire.
She raised her eyebrows. "Sure," she drawled sarcastically.
Oh hell to the no. Sarcasm is my thing.
"Yes, Portlyn, you know what? You're right. I am completely and unrequitedly in love with Sonny Munroe. And today, I'm just going to barge into her set and kiss her! Okay, are you kidding me?" I slammed my hand on the table in aggravation.
Portlyn squinted her eyes in confusion and softly murmured, "Well, okay, you didn't have to make such a big deal out of it."
I was in hysteria. Chad Dylan Cooper does not lose his cool. But, sadly, I was losing it. "Oh, no, that's not okay, and you know why? Because you guys have been bothering so much and pretty much stalking me, and that does not result in happy Chad. No, it does not. And all you guys… interrogating me has seriously caused a decline in my beauty sleep and overall beauty. So, no, I think that you should be the one not making such a big deal out of this, and you know why? Because Chad Dylan Cooper is much more perfect than Portlyn Murray, and I always do everything perfectly," I spat viciously, clenching my fists.
She rolled her eyes and flipped her hair in my face. And strolled away. Just strolled out the door, and left me to contemplate my very complex thoughts.
Normally I'd be relieved about that, but this time, my mind was caught on something else. Why did I feel so… rejuvenated when I told Portlyn I loved Sonny? Why did that thing in my chest pound harder and quicker? Why did the back of my neck suddenly get warm?
Why did I feel like I was telling the truth?
Even when I thought I was lying, I felt like what I had said was true. I was lying, wasn't I?
I frowned, deep in thought, and I heard a camera go off not far from where I was sitting. I whirled around and saw a tiny, unattractive man in a trench coat eyeing me nervously, holding a silver digital camera in his trembling hands.
"Shit, paparazzi," I mumbled, glaring at him, before chugging down the rest of my now-cold coffee and walking out the door, a suspicious feeling lurking in my chest.
~*~*~*~
Two days after the Starbucks incident, as I like to call it, as I was rereading my lines for the corny scene we were about to shoot, I heard a scream from the set.
"What the HELL?!"
What the HELL was that? "Looks like your time is done for now," I said to Veronica, my hair and makeup coordinator, who had been touching my face up with a little foundation. She simply shrugged, and walked off, grateful for the break.
Oh, by the way, just so we're clear, I only wear makeup on set. And that is only because the lighting doesn't "compliment my facial features". Which, honestly, is the lighting manager's fault and not mine. And because of the freaking stupid lighting manager, I have to wear makeup. I'm not a homo.
I found Portlyn and Marta and all the rest of the Mackenzie Falls girls huddled around each other in a tight circle, gaping, horror struck, at a copy of the latest Tween Weekly. All of their eyes were as round as those pink golf balls that Sharpay used in High School Musical 2. Chastity saw me walking towards them and rushed over in my direction, thrusting the magazine into my open hands.
"Oh, dear God, Chad, can you believe the people that would do this?" she cried. Confused, I looked at the magazine.
Oh no. Oh crap. Oh God!
On the cover, blown up to the world, were pictures of me and Portlyn at Starbucks from the other day. It was obvious that our "reclusive" plan didn't exactly work. They had everything on that magazine. They had us sitting there stirring our beverages, and Portlyn scratching the life out of me (which they'd taken from an angle to make it look like she was caressing me). They had a picture of her leaning closer to me (whispering about how much I loved Sonny… which I don't by the way), me slapping her (which looked pretty dramatic, kind of like an episode of Mackenzie Falls), me hyperventilating over the issue, and her walking out the door with an annoyed plastered on her face. And they even put up that picture of me alone at the table, with my godly lips turned down in a frown.
Then I read the headline, and my whole world came crashing down.
Chad Dylan Cooper-DUMPED?
Did Portlyn Murray secretly date costar CDC, then end it?
Oh, how I hate life.
I heard Portlyn's voice behind me, full of sympathy and understanding, which I would never have thought possible for someone like her. "So how're you going to explain to Sonny?"
I shook my head sadly, not even bothering to pummel her in the stomach. "I don't know," I admitted. "I really don't know.
--
Sonny's POV
I was slouched on the couch in my dressing room that Tawni was forced to share with me, licking a mini strawberry Tootsie Pop, when I heard Tawni's scream from her vanity.
"Oh my gosh, what's wrong?" I cried, yanking the lollipop from my mouth and whirling around to face her with concern and curiosity etched across my face. She was clutching the week's copy of Tween Weekly to her heart, looking like she was about to faint. Her face was plagued dramatically with pain.
Oh, it's just another big gossip controversy, I thought uninterestedly.I guess I got worked up about nothing.
"Sonny!" Tawni screamed, suddenly waking up from her dazed state and madly waving the magazine around in the air. "This. Is. HORRIBLE!" She pointed a shiny, periwinkle nail at the cover. It was plastered with an array of pictures that I couldn't make out from the distance between us. They were jumbled up artistically at different angles inside a massive, hot pink heart.
"Um, Tawni?" I ventured timidly, sticking the Tootsie Pop back in my mouth and grabbing my favorite throw pillow, which I buried my face in. "I honestly doubt it's that bad."
She stared furiously at me like I was a freak, which, in her mind, I was. "It is to 'that bad'," she countered, scrunching up her face. She made air quotes with her free hand and viciously stuck the magazine in front of my face. The front cover had pictures of Chad and Portlyn Murray, the little she-devil, on a date. At some Starbucks that I'd never went to. They even had Chad slapping her, and him alone, with a tiny frown pulling on his lips.
"Chad was going out with Portlyn?" I whispered in shock, reading the headline. This wasn't happening. This was not happening. My heart plummeted into my stomach. I felt like I was going to throw up.
Tawni nodded. "And the best part is," she perked up suddenly, "is that she dumped him! Isn't that horrendously awesome?"
I bleakly agreed, grimacing, and rested my chin in my hands. Why did I feel so miserable at the fact that Chad had been dating someone? There was an uneasy feeling lingering in my stomach. I had a feeling that I liked Chad. As much as I wanted to deny it, I did.
"I think that I like Chad," I whispered to myself, bracing myself from the explosion that was bound to ensue if Tawni had overheard me.
Luckily, she didn't.
Unfortunately, I had a feeling that what I had said was the truth. It nagged me and pounded my ears, and after a mere five seconds, I felt the need to confide in someone.
"Tawni, I have something to confess," I began, taking a deep breath. When she didn't respond, I tentatively continued. "You see, I think I might have a sort of… you know… well, um… a crush… on… uh, Chad." I exhaled, letting out all my tension.
She slowly turned to face me, her expression stone cold and menacing. Oh, gosh. She's going to kill me. "No. Way. No freaking way!" she screamed, her left eyebrow twitching awkwardly.
And then she smiled. Grinned, in fact. But her eyebrow kept twitching.
(Another A/N): Hope you liked that guys! Please review, and also please take my Poll on my profile (it has to do with this story, trust me) And now, until next time.....
PEACE OUT SUCKAS!!
SWAC4Life