One// Psycho Fan and an All Out Brawl
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"Is it your story we're missing? Well did we blink? Did we miss it? Lemme tell you why I know you won't, just admit it! Because the truth won't set you free. . ." ~Admit It, Set it Off
"So what's the plan for the new album?"
"It'll be out soon, but this one has a little bit of a different sound compared to its predecessor."
"What, no more sweet songs that melt our hearts? No more bangers that will be blaring through all the speakers of every nightclub in town?"
"We'll still have that, don't worry. It's just. . . we've developed a slight more mature sound for our sophomore album. As both a band and as humans, we've changed in the last couple months, for the better."
"That's good. . . So what do you guys know about fanfictions?"
And this was where the fun began, Connor Johnson thought to himself, gearing up for what was to come.
Right in the middle of the interview, the image paused and the sound diminished.
Connor- his instinct being to start cussing- held his tongue and tore his eyes from the screen to uncover the culprit.
Hovering over his couch with a mischievous smirk plastered across his face was none other than his bandmate, Jack Marshall. His near white, platinum hair was still a wild mane waiting to be tamed and his piercing jade eyes fixated upon Connor's laptop screen, his features laced with confusion.
"Why the fuck are you watching our old interview? Don't you have anything better to do? Like stalking Big Bang's Instagram page?" Jack groaned, pushing the laptop closed with the tip of his middle finger, subtly flipping off his elder bandmate.
Connor rolled his eyes. He's used to the berating banter that him and Jack go through on a daily basis, but today just isn't the day. With their next televised interview brewing on the horizon, he's beyond stressed. All he needed to do was study and all will be well.
"Nah, their feed isn't anything I haven't seen. Besides, I heard there's some kind of Mandela Effect in this video so I had to check it out myself."
Jack nodded his head, unconvinced by his best friend's words. A smirk was plastered across his face as he muttered out a simple, "Whatever you say," before exiting the bedroom.
He had a feeling that his best friend was hiding something, but he also knew that if he wanted Jack to know, he'd tell him.
Finally, peace and quiet, Connor thought as he slipped his headphones back over his ears, engulfing himself within the antiqued interview.
A little studying never hurt anyone.
"I'm so glad to welcome everyone's three favorite boys. . . well, at least mine." The interviewer turned to the crowd, hand covering the vast majority of her face. "Don't tell my husband!"
The audience bursted into a round of applause and laughter.
"Let's give a warm welcome to the members of the band that's topping charts and breaking hearts, Last Night on Earth!"
Jack ran out onto the stage, arms waving wildly and blowing kisses at the audience. A smile planted across his boyish face as he started up a chorus of fan chants from the audience.
Cameron wasn't too far behind Jack, lightly jogging and giving out simple waves that make the audience swoon. Their screams only increased when Cam flashed a heart in their direction. He's always been the heartthrob (and notorious playboy) of the group.
Now, the party commenced the minute Connor Bailey Johnson jumped out onto the stage, chanting "Let's get this party started!" While this action earned a few laughs from the parents and interviewer, all the fangirls in the audience jumped on to their feet, chanting; screaming and overall having a good time right along with the threesome.
This wasn't just a fandom, it's a family.
"Welcome, welcome," the interviewer squealed in excitement the minute it quieted down in the studio.
"Thanks for having us," Cameron nodded, subconsciously fixing his already perfectly styled hair.
She gulped, trying to hold her giggling at bay. Quite unsuccessfully. "To start things off today, I want to switch it up. We're going to do questions from the fans!"
This earned another round of cheering from the audience.
"Will you marry me, Jack?" A fan cried, her voice standing out among the rest of the crowd. Shrill and ear piercing, reaching a voice strain.
"Are you legal?" The wild platinum blonde chuckled, scouring the crowd for the owner of his sudden proposal.
The interviewer raised from her seat and glided her way into the crowd, viciously searching for the fan. "Whoever said that, will you please raise your hand high!"
Cameron and Connor wore mirroring looks of bewilderment across their features. They stared at each other, mouthing, "What the hell is going on?"
This wasn't planned. The spontaneity and craziness of their fans was one reason why these three boys loved them so much.
"Whose mah lucky lady?" Jack hooted from the edge of the stage. Fans continued to paw at the legs and thighs of Jack's jeans. He's already laughed it off, asking for them to knock it off, but they still persisted. At this point, he's given up.
"What's your name?" The interview lady asked, tipping the microphone to the lucky red-head whose beyond herself in excitement.
"Alyssa Jean Porter!" She lightly pushed the microphone in her direction so it's centered with her lips. "And I would like to give a shoutout to all my friends in my hometown of Sydneyville, Oklahoma. I have a message for y'all, 'Look I'm on TV and you're not! See, I told you I didn't need to go to college to follow my dreams.'"
Alyssa tried to snatch the microphone out of the interviewer's petite hands, but her iron-clad grip isn't a force to be reckoned with. The young fan tried (and failed) to obtain the microphone, forcing the interviewer to switch it to her other hand, far away from the grabby hands of the red-head. She led her down the isle and up towards the stage where two bewildered boys and one energetic puppy lie, awaiting their arrival.
"Can't I just make one more shoutout?" Alyssa pleaded, holding her hands out for her prize.
"No. And that's my final answer!" The interviewer snapped, holding her head in her left hand as she sat in her comfy chair, trying to regain her composure.
Alyssa huffed, dejectedly stomping over towards the chair closest to Jack's. She lovingly and longingly gazed at "her man" as she caressed his arm.
Jack grimaced, attempting to distract himself by focusing his attention on anyone but the creepy girl sitting adjacent to him. His body tightened as her hand continued to travel further north, about to reach his chest.
I cannot murder a fan on live television. I can not murder a fan on live television! Jack continued to remind himself as her fingers gripped his left nipple, subtly squeezing it. Pain with a slight mixture of pleasure coarse through his body. No matter how hard he tried to repress it, the pleasure still continued its coarse.
As long as it doesn't wake up a certain someone, I'm good. . . Jack bit his bottom lip as his gaze caught hers. Once her eyes hit his, he immediately jerked his attention back towards the interviewer, trying to immerse himself into whatever tangent she's on this time.
Why can't this psycho at least be cute?
Why has Jack been attracting all the girls here lately? I'm more handsome than him and I got the O'Connell Charm, what happened? Cameron reiterated to himself for the second time today. He hasn't even heard a single word that the interviewer uttered, relying on Connor to be paying attention. Lord knows Jack isn't.
Jack tried to scoot away from the obsessed fangirl, but she persisted in following him no matter what. He's politely whispered for her to stop, but not even that ceased her burning desire. He doesn't want to be rude. This crossed the line on so many different levels.
"Will you please cut it out," Jack grumbled at such a volume that only the two of them could hear.
"What?" She shrieked, releasing her grip from his nipple, backing away in an over-exaggerated agony.
This snapped both Connor and Cameron out of their hazes. All eyes on the two seated at the other side of the stage.
"Is everything okay?" The interviewer asked sternly, eyes cutting at the youngest member of the band.
You can't cause another scandal. Jack reminded himself. Just stay calm and laugh it off.
Jack painted a false grin across his pained face. "Oh no, everything is just dandy."
The lady's cold expression melted, replaced by the original enthusiasm she presented herself with. "Good, now did you have anything for your lovely fan, Alyssa?"
Jack's face lightened, a bright toothy grin plastered from ear to ear. "Ah yes, I think I do. Thanks for reminding me."
Cameron and Connor exchanged worried and baffled glances once again. Through all this time, couldn't anyone have informed them of what's going on?
Jack received a box from a producer and got down on one knee in front of his psycho (and possibly stalker) fan. She gasped in awe, looking like the love of her life was about to propose.
Well, in her eyes, that's what's happening.
"Ashton. . ." He began, holding back a laugh and shit-eating grin. He's well aware of what came out of his mouth.
"Alyssa!" She corrected with a huff, arms crossed and lip gutted out like a little kid not getting their way.
Does little Alyssa need their mommy? Did your whittle feelings get hurt? He grinned from ear to ear, unable to suppress it any longer because her reaction was too damn priceless, and the slight chuckles from both the guys, audience and the interview lady didn't help.
"Whatever. . . where was I? Oh. . . so I know we haven't known each other long, especially on my end, but I can feel a certain whatchamacallit. . ." He snapped his fingers in attempt to remember what escaped him, eyebrow raised and face full of incredulity.
"Attraction? Feeling? Burning sensation deep down inside that you can't hide anymore?" She desperately spat out in attempt to recover from the embarrassment overcoming her very being. Her eyes bugged out like a derranged cartoon character, and she appeared on the verge of a break, ready to snap at any minute.
Jack tapped his chin with a playful grin, then shook his head. "Nah, I don't think that's it."
She rolled her eyes, face turning red with anger and embarrassment. Not that Alyssa Jean would admit the latter portion. Her pride doesn't allow such a thing.
"Oh well, I'll figure it out six hours from now when I'm in my underwear, kicking Cameron's ass in Overwatch."
Laughter coarsed throughout the small studio, the loudest coming from his two best friends, or so Jack thought. Connor, well. . . Connor wasn't making too much noise. He laughed so hard, requiring so much force, no sound left his wide open mouth, leaving his face a deep shade of blood red. The whites of his eyes began to crawl with spiderwebs coated in a scarlet red.
"So, Alexander Hamilton, I would like to ask for your hand-"
"In marriage?" She squealed, interrupting Jack for the millionth time this morning.
Jack choked on his own spit, taken back by the bluntness and absurdity of her questions. Each one more mind boggling than the previous. Coughs and laughs racketed his body, nobody knowing how to react. The audience served up mix reactions, one or two going so far as to threaten violence upon the young teen.
One thing everybody noticed was how annoying this "Alyssa Jean Porter" was. If that's even her real name.
"Um. . . sorry honey, but to put it nicely. . . you're not my type and that would never happen. Not even if you were the last human on earth. Anyways, I would like to give you this." He handed her a blue velvet box, which she snatched out of his hands hungrily. Saliva dripped from the side of her parted lips, groggy noises leaving her body. Jack wondered if she were possessed or at least choking on something.
We all know what she wished she would choke on. News flash, ain't gonna happen. The platnium blond shuttered at his own dirty thoughts. His mind in desperate need of a bath or confession. Either would do for him.
Her eyes widen, not in awe, but rather in disgust. She held up the blue-raspberry Ring-Pop between her index finger and thumb like she held a piece of shit, unsure of what to make of it. "What is this?"
Jack's own eyes mirrored hers once they laid themselves on the contents of the box. Except his jade green eyes shined in delight. "That wasn't meant for you! Gimme that." He snatched the candy out of her hand, placing it on his own ring finger. Before anyone could talk him down, Jack's kissable lips wrapped themselves around the blue raspberry candy, sucking on it with no shame whatsoever.
"Wait, then what was my surprise?" Alyssa cried, face yet again red with anguish. Her eyes darted all around the stage from person to person, casually skipping over the remaining two members of her so-called "favorite band."
"It was supposed to be tickets or something. Now leave me alone!" The youngest boy shooed her away, content as he continued to lick the candy wedged on his middle finger.
"Looks like we need to go buy more butter and ice cream," Connor sighed, shaking his head in disdain.
"Yeah." Cameron paused for a moment, the prior part of Connor's statement hitting him. "Wait, why ice cream?"
"Cause Jack will want something cold and sweet to ease the pain. He should have known not to force the damned thing on his finger after last time."
Cameron held his phone up, shifting towards the scene unfolding before them center stage to record it. He lowered his voice drastically, leaning a little to his left towards Connor. "Might wanna make it two. . ."
"Because there's no way in hell Jack would share with either us and. . . I want my damn rocky road," Cameron admitted in a hushed voice as he continued to record the war on his phone.
Connor sighed, lowering his eyes from a growing pressure over them, his anxiety still as high despite the interview unofficially being over. His heart still pounded, and he bet anything he looked pale as shit - which he did. "Three it is."
"What do you mean there are no tickets?" Alyssa roared, jumping out of her seat and stomping towards the producer.
He backed away slowly, hands in the air with a look of terror spread across his face. "We sold out a while ago. One lucky girl bought the last three an hour or so ago."
"Oh well." Jack shrugged his shoulders, still sucking on his ring. He didn't care about her misfortune. Inside, he jumped for joy. Even doing a happy dance. One less crazy fan for him to worry about coming to their concert in the next month or so, the last of this tour "Boy am I in heaven! Now, this might be better than sex."
"Nothing is better than sex, dear brother," Cameron snorted, earning a slap on the back of his skull from Connor.
"Both of you, shut up. I wanna see if psycho bitch kicks his ass or not." Connor shouted, holding one finger over his lips and another pointed in the direction of the possible fight. Scooting towards the end of his seat, his large hands gripped the blue leather of the chair, gaze unwavering even when Jack began to shout about his finger matching his candy.
Alyssa bunched the producer's white button-up in her fist, holding him over an inch off the ground. "I want those goddamn tickets! You promised me this, and now follow through, you peasant."
The interviewer jumped out of her seat, waving her arms rapidly. "Well, it looks like we're out of time. Thanks for coming boys and - oh god! He's not food. Get my husband out of your mouth. Stop biting him."
Everyone at this point roared with laughter (with a few moans and whimpers from Jack due to his Ring-Pop). No one heard Connor sigh in relief.
His secret was safe. . . for now.