General Announcements~ Hey there again. Thanks to the peeps that did respond to this story. I appreciate it greatly. I actually have a College version of this story if you guys want to check that out. It's the same character but different plot and love interests.
This story is entirely fictional. Including the main character so NO I do not look like him for the billionth time! = )~ This does not imply anything about the lives or lifestyles of any members of NSync or other characters in this story.
Your mission, should you chose to accept it, is to read and enjoy this story. Any questions/comment/suggestions can be sent to: SLK2308888@aol.com with the subject heading of ~I Wanna Be With You~. Stick a fork in me. . .
Cause I am DONE! = )~
----------------------------- I Wanna Be With You By Rick -----------------------------
Chapter 2: Mission Impossible?
"Hello?" I question into my cell phone; one of those bad ass voice activated ones, you should really check them out.
"Hey babes, I just got an interesting call from Tracy. Sorry it didn't work out," Jess purred into the phone.
"You know you owe me big time! Next time you set me up with someone make sure she has more then 2 brain cells," I reply back to her snidely.
"I know I know, so what did you do after she left?"
"What do you think I did? I stayed and watched the rest of the movie! Like I'm going to let that skank ruin my much deserved night off," I reply back with all my teenage angst.
"I'm sorry for setting you up with her! She seemed like such a nice girl in my poli sci class, well . . . now that I think about it, she was kinda ditzy."
"Oh and so you thought how much I adore going out with someone with an IQ of a 5 year old?" I question back.
"Geez all right! So I screwed up! Sheesh! OK, so how was the movie?" she asked.
"Your basic, chick falls for the bad guy and ends up falling for the good guy. Add in Fame, ballet style, and your classic girl can't do shit and suddenly becomes a good dancer and that's basically it," I reply, "Oh and this great ballad, I gotta buy it sometime."
"Hey you busy?"
"No not really. Just heading over for some coffee, what's up?" I ask.
"You're such a Starbucks' fiend! I'll meet you over there in twenty minutes, I haven't seen you all week." Jess replied.
"Slick, then you can pay me back by buying me a cup. See ya later cutie!"
"Bye handsome, save us our spot." she giggled.
Smiling, I put my cell back into my pocket and walked the couple of blocks to Starbucks. Heck, walk a couple of blocks anywhere and you're bound to hit up a Starbucks! They're freaking all over the place! I think they just built one up my ass a couple of minutes ago!
Well, now that I think about it, it'd probably be a prime location. I mean I just look great in a pair of jeans! Not that I think of myself as an object or anything. I have feelings ya know, but it's nice to know you can get people salivating at the mouth as you walk by.
God, sometimes I'm so arrogant I even annoy myself, but then I think, "I make the world a more beautiful place to live in."
It's tough being me.
Anyways, I hit up Starbucks for some much-needed caffeine. That stupid blonde drained all the will to live out of me! It's crowded with your typical yuppies who think they're all that, talking about politics as if they were going to take over the world.
My god I always have to question myself why a sane person would spend all that cash on a measly cup of coffee but Jesus, I can not resist that damn Caramel Frappuccino for the life of me. Give me a Venti, and I'll be good to go for the rest of the night!
I should be studying for my huge ass test in a couple of days but I deserve a little treat for not going mental on that chick. Jeez, there's the wannabe "brain" in my Animal Taxonomy class. Please, like she could really be smarter then me, AS IF! Of course she's got her book, crib notes and flash cards splayed out all over the place like she owns the joint.
"Well if it isn't Mr. Peterson, not studying again I suppose," she states snidely as she adjusts her wannabe cool horn-rimmed glasses.
"Sandy," I reply back to her with the utmost civility and kindness. I smile and wink at her, knowing full well she hates my guts because no matter what she does she'll still be second best. Besides the fact that she secretly adores me, everyone does! No, I'm serious this time she secretly does, her roommate says she heard her moan my name once when she was sleeping. Apparently she knows the only way I'd touch her would be . . .
IN HER DREAMS!
I mean she looks all right but I can't stand snobby bitches. I swear it's like revenge of the cheerleaders all over again except:
She's not popular.
She doesn't put out (as if anyone would want some).
And the only thing perky about her would probably be her small little breasts!
"Care to sit down?" she asks hopefully, her voice giving away her lust for me. She darts her eyes between the spot right next to her and me. They plead me to sit with her in that "Please sit here with me you hunk of a man, I'm so unpopular and frigid. Be my friend!" kind of way.
"That's OK Sandy, I'm meeting a friend, besides you need as much studying as you can get," I reply and turn the other way, leaving her to decipher my message.
Oh goody, the future jack-asses of America are on their way out of my favorite couch in the place. I hope they didn't stink up the place with their supposed banter of who would win the Presidency. God, if these are our future leaders, we're in for some deep shit! I sit down, hoping no one would try to get chummy and sit down next to me. Misery does NOT like company. I just need to have my coffee, vent to Jessica about the horrible date and threaten her life again when she gets here (late as usual!), and get some sleep.
"Mind if I sit here?" a voice asks me.
"Actually I . . ."
"Patrick is it?" the familiar voice asks me.
"Ya, you're . . ." I reply, snapping my fingers to jog my memory for his name, "well you're that guy from the movie."
"It's Josh, well everyone calls me JC," he tells me.
"Well people call me Rick for short," I add. "Where are my manners, sit down, please," I wave my hand to the seat right next to me.
"Thanks, sorry about you and your girlfriend. She seemed upset," he chuckled setting down his coffee on the table in front of us.
"To say the least," I retort, causing him to smile. "She's not my girlfriend, just a blind date gone bad. You think Fox would do a special? `When Blind Dates Attack! Part four'." I say in my serious TV announcer voice.
"Knowing them, they probably would!" he exclaimed.
"Probably," I agree with a smile, "so where's your friend?" I ask.
"Oh Justin? He ditched me to go to some clubs with the guys. I wasn't really up for it tonight." He answered.
"Don't worry, you won't miss much, just a lot of pretentious people out there," I reply. Hey, takes one to know one right? "So, do you go to school around here?" I question.
"School?" He questions, as if it were some preposterous notion. "No, don't really have time for school. I would have wanted to but you have to make sacrifices in life. Enough about me, how about you?" he asks.
"Well I go UCLA," I reply back.
"Cool, you like it over there?"
"It's the best. Good professors and friends, kick ass parties on the weekends, some pretty cute honeys. What more could a guy ask for?" I question amusingly.
"You're pretty much set for life," he replies. "What's your major?"
"Biology, well I'm pre-med.," I reveal to him.
"Isn't everyone and their mom doing that nowadays. They're all into it because their parents tell them to be doctors or they want the money." He replies sarcastically.
"It's true, I have classes with these people and I'd say most of them don't really care about people."
"And what about yourself, you in for the money?"
"Nah, I want to really help people. It's always been my dream to be able to connect with another human being. I mean they put their lives in your hands, trusting you to do the right thing. If I ever become a doctor I want to shake things up, be a real trendsetter and have more of that doctor-patient interaction going on. I'm . . . I'm rambling now, sorry about that." I apologize.
"No! I think it's great that you do care about the patients as people. It's really noble about you. I admire that," he replies.
"Well thanks! Now I've been dying to ask you something since I saw you . . ."
"Yes, I'm from that boy-band NSync," he stated tiredly. I looked at him blankly for a couple of seconds.
"Actually I was gonna ask where you got those shoes but I guess that also another good question," I reply back to him snidely.
"Sorry, it's just that people get all paranoid and start asking for autographs and backstage passes. It's just a hassle sometimes," he apologized.
"If it helps I don't listen to you guys at all," I offer wickedly.
"Gee thanks I appreciate it!" he replies back sarcastically. "So if you're not a fan, how do you know about us?"
"Well it's not as if I know who you guys are per say but I'm not an idiot. Your group is plastered on the news and on half the walls of the female freshman dorms. It sounds like you guys are gonna get yourself a pretty penny or two," I reply.
"It's been tough, but we know the business and we're not gonna get pushed around," he stated vehemently.
"Sounds like you know what you're talking about. So what brings you to LA?" I question.
"Some time off, we've been getting jostled around for all this publicity crap. We just got tired of the shit and demanded some time off. Of course it helps you get what you want when you're on top of the music biz," he states matter-of-factly.
"That sounds cool. Do you ever think about what would have happened if your little boy-band gig didn't work out?" I question.
"Didn't work out?" he questions again as if he's heard me right. "No one has ever asked me that before. Hmmm . . . well I guess I would be off to school somewhere but I would definitely pursue something in music. It's my life; kinda like how you always knew you would be a doctor. I just feel it in my heart that I was sent on this Earth to sing or to write songs," he answers.
"So do you see yourself being in your little group for a long time?" I interrogate him.
"It'd be nice, but let's be realistic here. Sometime down the road we're bound to go our separate ways. Truthfully I think Justin and I would be the only ones with a legitimate chance at a solo career. Not to be arrogant or anything but the guys are more like backup singers." He revealed.
"I'll agree with that, from what I've heard from friends you two are the only ones that can sing decently," I reply.
"Thanks . . . I guess . . .."
"Have you noticed that the two lead singers in the boy-bands are always good looking, while the rest of the guys are just your average Joes?"
"So you think I'm good looking now huh?" he questions with amusement. I roll my eyes at him.
"You know what I mean, besides your friend is supposedly Mr. Teen Dream so I guess that leaves you out doesn't it?" I remark sarcastically.
"Hey I've got my good points too," he remarks.
"Well . . . you do dress well and you do have great shoes, but then again you could also have some fashion consultant picking out your clothes so I can't really give you that," I reply.
"Listen here buddy, I can outshop you any day of the week," he states.
"What is this now? We're comparing who's closet is bigger then who?" I question jokingly.
"Mine's plenty big," he remarks in a huff, causing us both to roll out laughing.
"You're the first guy I know who actually likes shopping more then I do," I say.
"We're a dying breed my friend," he agreed, "shit I gotta get back, I promised I'd call my . . ." he said, then mumbling the rest of the sentence.
"Call your who?" I ask with amusement.
"My mom," he sighs.
"Dude, what's there to be embarrassed about. I think it's cool you still stay close to your mom," I tell him.
"Thanks, most people would laugh about it, but my mom means a lot to me. She's always been the one to support me in my dreams," he replies.
"Patrick," a voice interrupted our conversation. We both turned and saw Sandy before us looking serious and dismayed as usual.
"Sandy," I acknowledge her presence.
"I just came to tell you to stop hanging around with your little friend and go study. Otherwise you might not be getting the highest score on the test," she stated curtly, giving both of us an evil stare before leaving.
"Damn you sure have your way with women," Josh stated sarcastically after watching her leave.
"God, just my luck! I always get the hounds of hell after me. Why can't I just find someone who's normal for goodness sakes? Is that too much to ask?" I question him seriously.
"I don't think so, but that person will come along when you least expect it. I just have this belief in fate that it'll bring the right two people together when you least expect it. You know what I mean?" he asks.
"Totally. My friends make fun of me cause I want to do the whole waiting to have sex after marriage kind of deals. It's just a matter of principle to me," I state.
"Wow, and I thought I was the only one waiting," he remarked.
"You? A big rock star a virgin? That's hard to imagine," I quip.
"Don't get me wrong, I mean I've had plenty of chances . . ."
"Oh I'm so sure you'd go for those 12 year old teeny boppers going to your concerts," I joke.
"There's some older people who like our music you ass!" he replies, "I'm just not comfortable with people who just want to hop into bed with you just because you're popular."
I nod my head in agreement. We sit there for a couple more minutes, merely enjoying each other's company and finishing off the rest of our drinks.
"Well it was nice meeting you again. We should definitely do this again sometime," he states as he begins to rise. We shake hands again and he kinda gives me this cryptic look, I'm not really sure what it was but he might have been checking me out.
"Ya, it certainly was," I reply, "too bad you're some famous celebrity and don't have the time, we could have done something tomorrow."
"Actually, I'm free tomorrow if you feel up for it," he responds with a smile.
"That'd be cool, what do you feel like doing?"
"Well I kind of wanted to watch Gladiator, but if you don't want to watch another movie . . ."
"No, that's cool. I wanted to watch it too but that evil chick thought it would be too violent for her," I say, a shiver running through my body as I begin to recollect that awful experience.
"No kidding, my friend made me watch that movie too. He said he wanted to see the dancing, which is a big ass lie." He joked as he put his hand on my knee.
"How weird, OK so why don't you give me your number and we can work out a plan for tomorrow," I suggest.
"Slick," he replied pulling out a pen and jotting down a number on a napkin. He hands it to me, holding my hand a bit too long.
"Well I guess I'll see you tomorrow then Rick," he states with a smile.
"Looking forward to it," I smile back.
"OK then! It's a date!" he replies as he throws his trash away and walks out the door. He waves goodbye and I wave back. I sit back down and finish off the rest of my drink.
WAIT A MINUTE!
Did he say DATE! As in a DATE date? No, I'm sure he didn't mean it that way. Just a slip of the tongue.
But oh God what if he did! Did he . . . did he think I was GAY??? Oh good God what have I gotten myself into? What if he thinks he can have his way with me in bed? Holy shit I can just imagine him doing some romantic candlelit dinner with roses and champagne! Oh no, oh no! I bet you he's gonna have the lights dimmed and mood music! Mood music! This is too much for me, he's already putting the damn rose petals on the bed isn't he? I can't go out with this guy!
But then what if he just meant that it's just a date as. . . as in a freakin day of the month! Ya right! He wants to have his way with me I just know it! He wants to ravage me until I become his bitch! OK, OK maybe I've watched OZ one too many times on HBO, but this is not my cup of tea. I'm straight I'm telling you! STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT!
"Hey babes!" a voice whispers into my ear before kissing me on the cheek. I must have jumped sky high and shrieked like a little girl (I'm STRAIGHT I'm telling ya!), because everyone turned to look my way. I give everyone my "what the fuck are you looking at look," and they quickly disperse back into their mindless conversations. "Jeez, you look tense," Jessica states as she puts her bag down and sits next to me. "Sorry I'm late" she apologizes. (What did I say? Typical!)
"Jess! I met this guy today . . ."
"Oh! Did you tell him about your voluptuous sexy best friend?" she asks teasingly
"Who?" I ask blankly.
"Bastard!" she exclaims, slapping me hard on the arm.
"Ass!" I reply back to her. Don't worry we call each other names all the time. "OK, listen to this. If he and I are going to do something tomorrow and he said `It's a date' does he mean it in THAT kind of way?" I question her earnestly.
"Oh God not again! What is it with you and your paranoia with everyone wanting to get into your pants?" she questions.
"But just the way he said it! It was just so menacing, like `IT'S A DATE!'" I say in my demonic evil voice to show her my point of view. "Like it's set in stone or something, what am I going to do?" I beg for her advice.
"You are so lame! I swear, where the hell did you get all this insecurity? I would have thought by now your arrogant bastard self would have taken over.
"You should have seen the gleam in his eyes Jess! He was undressing me with his eyes, I know he was! Right here at Starbucks for all the world to see!"
"Well you do look mighty fine today," she replies giving me that appreciative once over.
"You think so?" I beam, "but that's not the point! OH MY GOD! He was at the movies too! What if he followed me here? He's a stalker! He wants my body!" I cringe.
"Well you do have a nice body to use there babes!" she states evilly.
"That's it, I'm not calling him!" I make up my mind.
"Listen, is he a nice guy?"
"Well . . . ya I guess."
"Is he smart,"
" I guess. . ."
"Would you have fun?"
"I suppose. . ."
"Then he probably didn't mean it that way. He's just looking for a nice guy to hang out with."
"But what if he . . ."
"Then tell him all you can be is friends, you don't have to get all paranoid that he's gonna put the moves on you," she reasons.
"I guess you're right." I agree.
"I know I am," she gleams. "Oh and if he is straight you better tell him about me before I kick your butt!" she adds.
To Be Continued????
Your computer will self-destruct in 5 seconds if you chose not to send me a reply at: SLK2308888@aol.com with the subject heading of ~I Wanna Be With You~.
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End Transmission!