Hi everyone! My name is Ali, and many of you know me by my username @Fallzswimmer. For the winter edition of the Wattpad Block Party, I've teamed up with Lindsey Summers, otherwise known as amazingly talented @DoNotMicrowave, to bring you a "The Heartbreak Chronicles" and "The Cell Phone Swap" crossover. This short story will feature POVs from my character Xander and Lindsey's character Nicky. Don't forget to check out the giveaway link at the bottom of this chapter for a chance to win a signed paperback copy of my novel The Heartbreakers. Also, a HUGE thank you to our lovely host @KellyAnneBlount for all her hard work on the block party.
Backstage Pass: A THC/TCPS One Shot (Part 1)
"Next!" the lady behind the counter called.
The line barely moved as a guy with dreads stepped up to order. I counted nine customers ahead of me—ten total if you included the two-year-old a woman near the front was holding—and grumbled to myself. I was going to kick JJ's ass when I got back to the Staples Center. It was his fault I was stuck here.
The guys ordered Chinese for dinner, and because of my severe food allergies to just about everything—nuts, milk, eggs, soy, wheat, and any kind of fish—I couldn't have takeout. Our manager Courtney brought me a specially made salad from the hotel we were staying at, but being the pig that he always was, JJ went and ate it. Apparently six egg rolls, a container of shrimp fried rice, and two orders of Kung Pao Chicken wasn't enough for him. And to be clear, he ordered all that food for himself.
There was no way I could perform tonight without eating some kind of meal, so I had to find a fast food restaurant near the arena that catered to my restrictive diet. Courtney offered to send someone out for me, but I insisted on going myself. The time away would give me a chance to let my anger settle, or so I thought. Instead, I was considering different ways to murder JJ. At the top of my list was death by ravenous chihuahuas followed closely by death by plastic spork, both of which sounded slow and agonizing.
Anyway, the only place I felt comfortable eating at that was nearby was Chipotle—you could never go wrong with a chicken burrito bowl—but of course, it was packed. I was wearing a zip up with the hood pulled over my head and my bodyguard Mike was standing by the door, but the longer I stood in line, the more paranoid I became. There were throngs of teenage girl out tonight, presumably for the concert, and it was only a matter of time before someone recognized me.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I checked the time. I'd been standing here for almost fifteen minutes. And, as if to make matters worse, the lone woman behind the counter disappeared into the kitchen when she finished ringing up dreadlocks.
Come on, I nearly groaned out loud.
The girl behind me must have been thinking the same thing. "This is ridiculous," she muttered.
I turned without thinking and was met with a pair of beautiful dark brown eyes. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she surveyed the line, and her foot tapped impatiently like she was having a hard time standing still. Everything about the two of us was opposite: She had black curls in comparison to my straight blonde hair; My pale skin looked ghostly next to her tan; And at six four, I towered over her.
"Who staffs only one employee during dinner time?" she said when she caught my gaze. "It's a crime I tell you. A crime!"
"Um, yeah. Totally." I didn't know what else to say, which was strange for me. I never had issues talking to strangers. Out of the four of us—Oliver, JJ, Alec, and myself—I did the best in interviews, because I enjoyed chatting with people. As for girls, I didn't find them as intimidating as I did back in junior high when I was a band geek. There was something about being a member of a world famous boy band that helped me get over my insecurities quickly.
But this girl—the beautiful dark eyed girl—she'd only said a handful of words, and for some freaking reason, I couldn't think of a better response than totally. God, what was wrong with me?
I racked my brain in search of something more to say, but before I could come up with anything, she continued talking. "I don't even want to order anything. I just want the fricking sample."
I jumped on this new bit of conversation. "Sample?"
"Yeah, didn't you know?" she asked, her eyes lighting up at my question. "Chipotle is testing a new habanero rice, and for today only you can try a bowl for free." She said this with a huge grin, like free rice was the single best thing in the world. I instantly decided that I liked her.
"You're braving this line for rice?" I asked, my lips quirking in amusement.
She raised her chin like this was something to be proud of. "I take my free samples very seriously."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, I can see that."
The girl opened her mouth to respond, but then paused and narrowed her eyes. "Hey," she said, cocking her head to the side. "Do we know each other?"
Crap! My mouth instantly went dry and I glanced over my shoulder at the line. The woman working the counter had returned from the kitchen with another employee, and they'd already served three more customers. With any luck, I'd be out of here soon.
"Nope, don't think so," I said quickly. "Enjoy your habanero rice."
I turned back around without another word, praying to God she'd leave well enough alone. The last thing I needed was to cause a scene at Chipotle. What I should have done was forgot about my food and walk out, but the empty feeling inside my stomach made me stay.
Free sample girl didn't let it go. She flitted around me to get another look at my face. "No, seriously," she was saying. "I swear I know you from somewhere."
A long sigh escaped my lips. It would only be a moment until—
"Oh my God!" she gasped. The puzzled expression on her face vanished, and her eyes went wide. "You're—"
I moved before she could finished her sentence. "Shhh!" I said, clamping a hand over her mouth. "Please not here. Not when there are so many people around."
"Mmm-ay," she mumbled against my hand, which sounded a lot like okay.
"You promise to be quiet?" I asked, and she gave a vigorous nod of the head.
I released my grip and took a step back. The girl stared at me for a long moment, mouth open wide like she couldn't believe I'd just done that to her. I hardly believed it myself. I could still feel the tingle from where her lips had pressed against my palm, and I quickly wiped my hand on the back of my jeans.
"Sorry about that," I added as the tops of my ears started to burn. "It was rude of me."
"Holy—You are him," she whisper-hissed. "I knew it! You're Xander Jones."
"Er, yeah. Hi." God, there I go again with another genius response.
"This is so crazy. My friends and I are going to your concert tonight." She pointed out the window to where two boys and a girl were waiting. To my surprise, both of the guys were dressed head to foot in Heartbreakers merchandise. While I was used to seeing girls drag their boyfriends along to our concerts, it wasn't very often I came across guys who were genuine fans.
"Wow," I said, scratching the back of my head. "They really went all out for tonight, didn't they?"
At this, the girl dissolved into a fit of laughter. After a few moments, she calmed down enough to wipe her eyes and say, "Not by choice. They lost a bet to me and my friend, otherwise they wouldn't be caught dead wearing a Heartbreakers shirt. No offense or anything."
As soon as she said that, I noticed that the tall blonde dude didn't look very happy. He was staring off into the distance, a scowl on his face. His arms were crossed over his chest, and it was obvious the shirt he was wearing didn't belong to him: it wasn't long enough on his torso, and his biceps looked like they were going to bust through the sleeves at any moment. The hot pink feather boa wrapped around his neck completed the look.
I let out a bark of laughter. "None taken," I told her. "That's hilarious. Props to them for going through with it."
The girl smiled and looked up at me through her lashes. "I'm Nicky by the way."
"Nicky," I said, testing out her name. "Nice to meet you."
"I know you're probably sick of this, but I'd hate myself if I didn't ask. Do you think maybe we could—" she paused and started rummaging through her purse. After a few seconds of digging, she pulled out her phone. "Ah, here is it. Could we get a picture together?"
I hesitated. There was no way I could take a picture with Nicky. A few other people in the restaurant had already cast curious glances in my direction, and posing with her would only attract more attention. But at the same time, I couldn't say no to this girl. Not with eyes like that.
"How about this," I told her. "Give me you and your friends names. I'll set up access passes so you guys can come backstage after the show and take a picture with all of us."
"Are you serious?" she exclaimed, nearly dropping her purse. "Wait a sec...is this some type of prank where you punk your fans?"
I had to stop myself from laughing. "Not a prank, I promise. When you get to the Staples Center, go to the will call window. You can pick up the passes there."
"Okay, just give me a second." Nicky dug through her purse again with shaking hands. This time she pulled out a pen and an old receipt to write on. "Thank you so much, Xander. You're awesome for doing this. Not that I ever thought you were a jerk or anything, but this is way above and beyond the call of duty," she rambled.
"No problem," I told her, because really, this was a win-win situation for me. I was going to make it out of Chipotle without getting mobbed and I'd get to see Nicky again.
She finished her list quickly and handed it over. "Here," she said, and I could tell from the way she bit her lip that she was trying to contain her excitement. Next to her name were three others: Keeley Brewer, Zack Brewer, and Talon Harrington.
"Awesome." I folded the receipt and stuffed it in my back pocket just as the woman behind the counter called for the next person in line. I was up. "Well, I guess I'll see you later then?"
"Definitely. Good luck tonight, Xander."
"Thanks. I hope you guys have fun," I said in way of goodbye before stepping up and ordering. They made my burrito bowl quickly, and as I was paying for my food, I saw Nicky being handed her rice. "Enjoy your free sample," I teased.
"Oh, I will," she said.
I waved to her and headed for door. Just as I reached Mike, a thought popped into my head and I spun around. "Hey, the blonde one," I asked. "What's his name?"
Nicky, who was standing at the condiments station grabbing a napkin, looked up. "That's Talon," she said. "He's Keeley's boyfriend."
"Okay, thanks!" Then I turned back around and said to Mike, "Sorry about the wait. I got you an apology burrito. Extra steak, extra rice—just the way you like it."
Mike laughed and ruffled my hair. "Thanks, X-Man," he said, using the nickname he'd given me, before ushering me out of Chipotle toward the town car idling at the curb.
I opened the car door, but before ducking into the back seat, I looked around. Nicky's friends were still waiting next to the window. "Hey Talon!" I called out. The blonde dude glanced up at the sound of his name, eyebrows furrowed into a deep V. When he caught my gaze, I grinned. "Love the boa, man." And then I slid into the car and slammed the door before he could respond.
***
The dressing room was suspiciously quiet when I returned to the Staples Center, and my guard immediately went up. Ever since we became friends, Oliver, JJ, Alec and I had always been a loud, obnoxious group of guys. So when things got this quiet, it normally meant that Oliver was pulling one of his usual pranks... and I had mixed feelings about the prospect.
While Oliver's jokes were funny—for example, the time he cut two holes Mean Girls style into all of JJ's shirts or when he replaced the music on Alec's beloved iPod with Disney soundtracks—I'd been on the receiving end of his antics one too many times. And since I was the one who'd been gone for the past hour, I had a bad feeling that I was the target of whatever trick he had planned.
I crept through the dressing rooms as stealthily as possible, peaking around corners and inching doors open when necessary so I wouldn't accidentally stumble into one of Oliver's traps. After a minute of searching, I heard a loud crash from somewhere down the hall. I froze, waiting to see what would happen.
Then, "JJ! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"
I choked back a laugh. Loud clamor and someone yelling at JJ? That was an everyday occurrence. Maybe Oliver wasn't planning a prank after all.
I followed the racket back the way I'd come until I reached the family lounge, a private room for parents and siblings and friends of performing artists. None of our family had arrived yet, so I hadn't thought to check there. When I opened the door, I expected to find JJ doing something stupid as per usual. Instead, the first thing I saw was Stella duct taped to a chair. Someone had taken an entire roll and wrapped it around her torso and ankles. They'd left her hands free, and she was casually scrolling through pictures on her camera as if being tied up was totally normal.
"Um, Stella?" Memories of the party we threw in Miami flashed through my mind along with an intense need to pee. "What's with the duct tape?"
She sighed and glanced up at me. "JJ couldn't find any rope so..."
Yes, because that makes sense... but before I could ask her anything more, I heard Oliver growl in frustration.
"My fault? You're the one who shoved me! If I have any nacho sauce in my hair..."
My head jerked up. Across the room, JJ and Oliver were standing over a shattered glass table. It looked as if an assortment of food had been laid out across the surface, but now there was pretzels and carrots and Chex Mix scattered on the floor. The back of Oliver's shirt and jeans were covered with salsa and other bits of snacks, and there was a small scarlet cut on his elbow. JJ was bent over, both hands on his knees, and laughing so hysterically that he could only shake his head in response. In the background, Alec was sprawled out on a couch with his headphones in, watching the scene with casual indifference.
I turned back to Stella and began the process of peeling off layers of tape. "Do I even want to know?" I asked her.
"Believe it or not, they were acting somewhat adultlike half an hour ago," she said with an eyeroll. "But then JJ lost a game of pool and challenged Oliver to a sword fight."
Glancing back over, I noticed that both my friends were holding cues from the pool table, and Oliver was waving his at JJ in a threatening manner. "With cue sticks?" I clarified.
"Yup. It got pretty intense. Oliver fell into the table and broke it."
Oliver's gaze snapped over to us. "He taped you to a chair and you're taking his side?"
JJ, who'd finally controlled his laughing enough to straighten up, wiggled his eyebrows in suggestion. "Maybe Stella likes a man who takes control."
"Shut up, JJ," Oliver and Stella snapped in unison. Then they both grinned at each other.
"That still doesn't explain how you ended up in this particular situation," I said, gesturing at the chair she was stuck in.
"Oh, JJ declared himself a pirate," she said with an exasperated sigh. "I'm the prisoner or damsel in distress or whatever. My boyfriend is supposed to be saving me, but apparently he's too busy killing innocent tables."
"Hey!" Oliver complained. "He pushed me!"
"And you just let them tape you up?" I asked.
She waved off the question. "You know how those two are. Sometimes it's just easier to humor them," she explained. Oliver joined us a moment later, plopped down in his girlfriend's lap like he was a cat and not an actual human being who was a good foot taller than her. Stella wrinkled her nose and said, "Gross, Ollie. You're getting salsa all over me."
I frowned. Ollie? That was new; Stella wasn't normally one for pet names. Then again, ever since the two reconciled their relationship, they'd been increasingly disgusting, taking their PDA to horrifying new levels. Don't get me wrong, I was happy for my friends and they were perfect together. But christ—could they refrain from sucking each others face in public? I was starting to wonder if they'd ever move past the honeymoon stage and return to the sarcastic, witty friends I missed instead of the cheesy, loved up couple they'd been as of late.
Oliver offered her a crooked grin. "Too bad," he said and then leaned in and pressed his mouth to her. Stella couldn't have been that mad at him because she set her camera down and leaned into his kiss.
"All right," I said, standing up and moving away from them. "I'm not helping Stella out of the chair while you two are making out."
Stella laughed against her boyfriend's lips, but pulled away. "Sorry," she mumbled to me, her cheeks dusted with pink. "Please continue the de-taping process."
Oliver, on the other hand, didn't look apologetic at all. There was a lazy grin on his face as he ran a hand through his bangs. When he finished fixing his hair, he looked up at me and said, "So what took so long, dude? You've been gone for over an hour."
"I bet he couldn't make up his mind about which salad he wanted," JJ said, coming over to join us. "Must have been a tough decision between the one with lettuce and the other one with lettuce."
"The line at Chipotle was killer," I said, ignoring JJ. "Then I had to set up a few access passes."
"For who?" Stella asked as she fiddled with the leather bracelet around Oliver's wrist.
"Nobody you know," I said, adjusting my glasses. I wasn't going to mention Nicky in front of Oliver and JJ. They'd give me major amounts of shit if they knew I'd invited a girl I'd only just met backstage.
"You do know the record label is throwing us an after party to celebrate the end of our tour, right?" JJ said then.
That was news to me. "What? Since when?"
"Today, I guess," he answered with a shrug. "Mr. Williams showed up after you left and requested our attendance."
At the mention of Alec's father, Stella drew her lips together into a tight line, disdain clear on her face. After everything he'd put Oliver through last year, I couldn't blame her.
"What the hell happened to Lord Voldemort not bossing us around anymore?" I asked.
Oliver released a heavy sigh and wrapped an arm around Stella's shoulders. "Gotta pick and choose our battles, man," he said. "Going to a party isn't that big of a deal."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right," I said, my shoulders slumping.
Even though we didn't like Mr. Williams, he was still our boss and the person responsible for our band's success. Sometimes you just had to swallow your pride and discontent and do something you didn't like because it was the mature thing to do. Kind of surprising coming from me or Oliver or JJ, but we had our moments.
Of course, that didn't ease the guilt I felt over having to ditch Nicky. I'd promised her a chance to hang out with us backstage, and now I'd have to go back on that promise. All I could do was hope she'd understand and forgive me.
The door to the family lounge swung open and Courtney appeared, her ever-present clipboard clutched in her hands. "All right, boys. Everyone needs to head back to their dressing rooms. It's time to get ready for the show."
"Um, hello?" Stella said as we all moved to follow Courtney's orders. "You can't just leave me here."
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Courtney said, her gaze flicking upward in annoyance when she saw Stella's predicament. "Seriously, boys? Duct tape? I swear, sometimes I think I need to hire a babysitter for you lot..."
We all grinned. She was probably right.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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