What If #justwriteit #fanfic

Chapter One: Brooke

We didn't stay for the encore. Instead, we came to a unanimous decision and rushed out of the crowded venue just as the band came back on. We ran through the car-infested parking lot and high-tailed it to Jill's Jeep. We had found out Down Rulers, the biggest and hottest band on the planet, was staying at a ritzy hotel in town so we decided to camp out in the bar there, just in case. Between her Jeeps tires and all four of our voices, there was a lot of squealing going on.

It was a twenty minute ride from the concert to the hotel and the excitement was palpable. Down Rulers had been our absolute favorite band since the seventh grade when their first song, Starving for You, came out. We were goners when we first saw what the band looked like, one guy was hotter than the next. Jesse, the bassist, was my favorite. Luckily, the four of us liked a different members so there was no fighting. Because, even though the chances were slim we'd even meet them, let alone date them, it was best to have less girl drama.

Alicia punched my arm, "Oh my god, Brooke! Can you even believe we're doing this?"

"Ouch," I rubbed the spot where her fist landed harder than she'd expected it to, "Actually, yeah, I can like totally believe we're doing this. And, worst case scenario, we'll have a couple drinks and go home defeated."

I'll be completely honest, I wasn't expecting to even catch a glimpse of my boys, Down Rulers. They probably would be hooking up with some overdone groupies handpicked from the audience or something and they'll go directly to their rooms to party. That seemed to be par for the course of the rockstar lifestyle. I mean, we read about it in all the gossip mags; famous band busted for destroying hotel rooms, leaving behind giddy girls stories of hook ups. But, who was I to bring my friends down? We'd end up having fun anyway, we always did. The hotel bar was a pretty happening spot, a place to see and be seen. All of us looked concert cute, and, at the very least, we'd most likely end up flirting with guys in attempt to bring our spirits up.

Down Rulers came on the radio and Melanie, sitting in the co-pilot seat and always in charge of the radio, turned the volume up. My eardrums were already blown out from the noise of the concert and, instead of acting like a 20 year old, I became a granny and tapped Melanie on the shoulder, "Can you turn it down a bit? I think I'm going deaf." I had to scream to be heard.

"When did you get to be so old?" Melanie cackled and turned the volume down a bit.

"Not old but would like to preserve my hearing, just in case I need it when I get older." I turned and pressed my nose against the window. I was suddenly feeling a little nervous, "You guys, what IF?"

Those few words sent the girls giggling. Jill, the more daring one of the bunch, sighed audibly, "I'd definitely do Stephen. It would be one exciting story I could pass on to my grandchildren."

"I'm thinking that would be a big NO, J. That would probably be something you're grandchildren would appreciate NOT knowing about their dear old grandma." I ran my leather purse strap across my lap to try to harness in my shaking legs. Being a chickenshit sucked, that was for sure. "I think if Jesse spoke to me, I'd probably crap my pants and throw up at the same time."

Alicia put her arm across my shoulder, "You'll be fine. The worst thing that could happen is you'll turn your lovely shade of magenta and not be able to talk. We've all seen that happen. Don't worry, it's sort of...endearing."

Pulling away from her, I shot her a glare, "And you're just so outgoing yourself, Ms. OMGCOMEWITHMEONMYDATEBECAUSEIDON'TTHINKICANHANDLEHIM."

Jill caught my eye in the rearview mirror, she was sensing I was getting uptight, "Hey now, Brookie, Alicia was teasing. Take a pill, girl."

Out of my three alleged best friends, Alicia was my least favorite. Somehow she had wormed her way into our group back when we were in high school. I don't think any of us really liked her but she was gorgeous and that helped when we went out to do, what my mom called, trolling. We called it boyfriend hunting. Although, my parents always insisted we never wanted a boyfriend we had picked up at the bar. I never understood why not, the other alternatives were equally as pathetic.