Disclaimer: I don’t own anything—Sonny With a Chance nor the quotes I use at the start of the chapters. Actually, I own depressingly little – except, I’m afraid, student loans…if one can own that. Anyway, on with the story!

If anyone can make me a better person you could / All I gotta say is I musta done something good / I came along one day and you rearranged my life / All I gotta say is I musta done something right –Relient K, “Must Have Done Something Right”

Chad Dylan Cooper may have only had a “small but crucial role,” but he was Chad Dylan Cooper and that garnered him a certain amount of respect – and perks. So, leaning back in his director’s chair, Chad ignored the busy world around him as showed off his famous pout and sipped on a bottle of water.

He might have continued in that vain for the rest of his break but Becca, the Craft Service Girl, came scurrying up to him with a shy smile and a laden plate. Obviously in awe, the girl practically curtseyed as she cooed, “Mr. Cooper, I remember how much you liked the pineapple meatballs and made sure to make a batch especially for you.”

“Thanks, Becky,” Chad replied with his award winning smile as he took the plate from the soon to be swooning girl.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Cooper. If you need or even want anything else, just call for me.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

Sighing, Becca turned on her heel making immediate plans to inform all her friends and family that she changed her mind. Becky was NOT the most annoying nickname of all time. In fact, from that moment on, she would not answer unless she was addressed by that name—unless, of course, she decided to make it Chad Dylan Cooper’s special pet name for her.

Not noticing any of this, Chad used his fork to push the meatballs around his plate not feeling particularly hungry at the moment as his thoughts were consuming him. Tired of not being in complete control and actually doubting himself, Chad gave a grunt of dissatisfaction and closed his eyes in an attempt to close out the world.

The newly named Becky had not gotten far at all when she heard Chad’s grunt and quickly flipped around. Misinterpreting his anger at the meatballs and not himself, Becky rushed back over to him, determined to make everything alright.

“Mr. Cooper, is something wrong with the meatballs? Do you want something else?”

Reluctantly pealing his eyes open, Chad looked down at the overeager fan and willed himself (almost against his will really) to be nice.

“There’s nothing wrong with the meatballs, Becky. I’m just not feeling very hungry at the moment.”

“Oh,” she sighed in disappointment.

Turning to leave once again, she was stopped by Chad’s voice as he said, more to himself than her, “Why do I care?”

This time, Becky realized that he wasn’t talking to her, but the idea that her idol was in pain…

“Why do you care about what?” she quickly asked before she could change her mind.

Straightening, Chad looked the Craft Service Girl over before deciding that perhaps an objective third-party (or as objective as anyone speaking to Chad Dylan Cooper could possibly be) might be of some help.

“I actually know your name,” Chad informed her.

Not bothering to correct him, as Becky had now decided that was her name, she nodded to show she was listening.

“I don’t bother to learn anyone’s names. That takes effort and interest.”

“And I’m just a peon,” Becky wisely answered. She wasn’t the least bit offended. She knew exactly what she was and never expected anyone like Chad Dylan Cooper to think any differently.

“I don’t know the names of anyone over in Chuckle City except Sonny Monroe. The only reason the blonde girl on their show got invited to my birthday party was because I wanted Sonny there and didn’t think she’d come if her whinny friend didn’t get invited. My assistant found out the girl’s name for the invites.”

“Wow,” Becky sighed. “That was so great of you.”

“Sonny’s best friend from Wisconsin was in town. I even invited her, an absolute nobody, to come along.”

“You are amazing, Chad Dylan Cooper!”

“I know,” he replied in a bored tone. Leaning forward and lowering his voice to signal the sharing of a secret, Chad added, “She’s causing me to…care about others.” Straightening back up, he went on, “My life was perfect until that perky, comedian, from Wisconsin breezed into my life making me think about how my actions affected others.”

Groaning, Chad leaned back in his chair. Bordering on whining, he said, “What did I do wrong?”

“Maybe you didn’t do anything wrong,” Becky tentative put out.

“What do you mean?” Chad asked, suddenly interested.

“Caring could be a good thing. People, other people, make our lives more interesting. Richer. Better?” She didn’t mean to say the last word as a question, but Chad Dylan Cooper appeared to actually be interested in what she was saying and that threw her more than anything ever had.

“So…Sonny might actually be a reward?”

“Yes,” Becky quickly assured him, nodding enthusiastically. “Sonny is a cosmic reward for your wonderful Chad-ness.”

Leaning back in his chair, Chad decided that he actually was hungry. Picking up his fork and spearing a meatball, he said, “Thanks, Becky. You’ve been really helpful.”

“My pleasure, Mr. Cooper,” she quickly assured him. “Always my pleasure.”

Smirking, Chad took a bite of the meatball. Swallowing he added with his trademark grin, “This is excellent, Becky. Thanks for remembering me.”

Becky actually thought she might die of happiness.