A/N: This one-shot is dedicated to my very best friend and twin, xocharleyfletcherxo, on her very special birthday. I love ya', Charles, and this really doesn't beat the birthday video-which I still watch over and over again, by the way-but I still hope you enjoy this. :) Thanks for all the convos, and for hearing me vent out about my problems, and for telling me about...(ahem.....you-know-who....ahem...) :P lools, and you make the best damn videos in this world that coordinates perfectly with your best damn stories. And I hope that one day, instead of a lousy story like this, I'll be able to get you Rob, Sterling, and the "Duke" guy (:P) for your birthday. Until then, have a very safe and happy birthday.
"The Dating Rules"
You may be wondering what I, Sonny Monroe, might be doing in a closet with a red-haired Chad Dylan Cooper, covered in squirrel pee, wearing only one shoe with a hole in it, his shirt practically torn away into shreds, his fingers slightly burnt, covered with band aids, half of his pants cut off, with a bit of pink smoothie spilled on it, and his eyes blinking every few seconds to get rid of the onion stench that caught in his eyes. I suppose I shouldn't be talking; I wasn't in a better condition. My hair was a tangled mess with a streak of purple colouring running through it, my pretty little sunflower dress was also shredded, I'd lost an earring, I'd lost both of my shoes, and I wasn't blinking away onion stench, but I was blinking and waving away the skunk stench that had gotten sprayed all over me. So no, I wasn't in a much better condition. To think, we both would be pretty mad about it, right? But no, we're actually doing something you never thought we'd do after the day we just had. I, Sonny Monroe, looking like I was, was kissing Chad Dylan Cooper in this janitor's closet, looking like he was.
You should be. Let me start from the beginning...
"So we've been dating for a week, and we've never really kissed yet." That was what my arrogant boyfriend said to me in the cafeteria that day. He had that coy smile on his face, and I could smell the whiff of cologne he put on before coming to work today. As hard as he tries to hide it, I knew all he wanted to do was impress me.
I snorted, and then reached across to pat his hand gently. "I know."
This, apparently, wasn't a good enough answer for Chad, because a second later, he started to pout. Normally, I would find this cute, but today, I was really stressed out about our latest sketch, and I just can't take his pouting right now. All I wanted was for him to leave me alone (not forever, but...well...you know, for now).
I sighed and asked wearily, "Well what, Chad?"
"Well what are we gonna do about it?" Was he always this annoying? Or was it just me?
"I am going to work on my sketch...I don't know what you're going to do." I quirked an eyebrow at him, hoping he'd get the message. I just wasn't in the mood today. Too much work; too little time.
Chad huffed, and crossed his arms indignantly. "Sonny...honey...all couples start out slowly. They start getting to know each other in the first three days of their relationship. They get comfortable on the fourth day, and they go on a real date on the fifth day-which we have-then they just sort of hang around until they get more comfortable. This goes on for day six and seven. By day eight, they start getting ready for the kiss; so they start hinting to their partner they want to kiss. By day nine, the partner should get it. This, of course, is already the second week. By day ten, that's when they should kiss. We are a day late, Sonny. We're on day eleven, or day four of week two."
I laughed at his crazy theory, but then stopped when I realized he was serious. "Chad," I said, smiling at him, "We're not like other couples."
"'Ain't that right," he muttered, making a sound a mix between snorting and scoffing. "Sometimes I just worry about you, Sonny. It's like you've never even heard of the Dating Rules."
I quirked my eyebrow again. "Excuse me? The Dating Rules?"
Chad straightened up in his seat from where he was slouching, and his eyes bugged out. "Are. You. Kidding. Me. You've never heard of the Dating Rules?" I wanted to say there was no such thing, but that look he was giving me told me otherwise. So I just decided to play along, and shook my head. "Well. No wonder. Or else we would've kissed by now."
"So...what are the 'Dating Rules'?" I made air quotes around the words, but tried my best to sound as genuinely interested as possible.
"The Dating Rules are rules a couple has to follow for their relationship to work out," he explained, "There are the obvious ones...like, never cheating on your partner, of course. Never break up by text, email, or get a friend to do the breaking up for you. Break up in person. If possible, don't break up at all-"
"Are they all about breaking up?" I interrupted.
"Most are but-"
"Well, should I be scared you're trying to tell me something here, Chad?" I joked.
I thought he would tease back and say a witty comment like usual, but he just looked at me with a straight look on his face that would've been just too serious for someone on the set of a comedy show. "It could happen to us, you know."
And after that, I just let him explain more about this "Dating Rules" of his without interrupting him, and joking about things that could happen someday again. Finally, after hours of listening to him babble on and on about things I really didn't care about (at this moment) I finally caved in and said that, yes, we should kiss.
"It's not that simple, Sonny," was his reply to my suggesting we should just kiss right then and there. "See, the rules say when a couple kisses..."
I tried my best to stifle a groan as he went on about the "proper technique" of the "perfect kiss". My eyelids kept drooping from time to time as he droned on and on about how you're supposed to kiss with a person that you've just started going out with.
"Chad," I interrupted again, more weary this time. "Alright. We'll do it your way. I'll follow through with anything you want on how we should kiss, just please leave me alone now. Okay?"
This seemed to finally satisfy him (thank God) as he nodded brightly, and with a click of his tongue, he pranced out of the cafeteria, finally leaving me alone to do my work. But he came back only to say: "I'll pick you up tomorrow at seven. Wear something fancy, alright, love?"
To this, I glared at the blonde star and gritted my teeth. "Go. Away."
I think it was my glaring that finally got him to leave (for good this time) and for me to finally do my work and finish it. Or maybe it was because he was done talking. Either way, I finished my work, and that's all that mattered. Now onto the more interesting subject of this story....our "romantic and perfect" dinner date. And you'll see why I've decided to quote it in quotation marks.
"And Marshall said it would be our best show ever!" I continued, gushing on and on about the sketch I finally got done, and how Marshall loved it.
Chad smirked and nodded with an amused look on his face, but he didn't say anything.
"And then-what?" I frowned when I saw his face, and demanded to know what was so funny.
"Nothing, nothing..." he replied, then wave his hand in a "continue" motion. "Carry on, love."
I rolled my eyes and gave him a look. "I saw that look. Why were you holding back a smile? You don't think my sketch is good?"
"No!" he answered immediately, now looking a little panicked. "I-I mean...yes, I do. Wait, that's not right. No I don't think that your sketch isn't good; yes, I do think it's good."
"Then why were you smiling?"
"Because Marshall says it'll be your best sketch for every sketch you guys come up with," he said pointedly, and then chuckled. "Which I actually understand now. I have to admit, you chuckleheads are getting better with each show, so I guess every new sketch is the best one."
"Nice save," I teased. Turning my head and poking it out the window, I realized we were heading towards the shops, where mostly everybody goes to on a Friday. "Chad, why are we going to the busiest place in Hollywood at this time for our date?"
"Sonny, Sonny, relax. I have it all figured out."
"But aren't we going to be smothered with fans and paparazzi?"
"Don't you worry your little pretty-and annoying-head..." he muttered that annoying part, by the way, but I still heard it, and gave him a look, before he continued, "I've planned everything perfectly. Now you just relax and enjoy our date."
"Alright..." I said hesitantly after he gave me a look that meant he expected an answer. "You're the guy."
I got a smirk as an answer as we continued down the road until finally stopping at a fancy restaurant called...well, it was too fancy to pronounce. So I decided to call it Fancy. Chad parked the car in the restaurant's parking lot (well, where else would he park it?) and led me out of the car. For once, I didn't complain about the restaurant being too expensive or anything because I was in shock myself. I mean, this restaurant was huge. It had pretty much everything. Plus, I was really hungry from the drive here, and I could already smell the fancy food from all the way out here. So I just clamped my mouth shut, and walked in awe inside the restaurant.
Even the receptionist person was fancy. He had a fancy moustache. Now, you may be thinking, what's so fancy about a moustache? Well, it just was. It matches the whole theme of the restaurant; which was...fancy.
"Good evening, sir, and Madame," he greeted us, speaking with a hint of accent that I can't really place. It was a mix of Australian, Italian, British, African, Jamaican, and Indian...well, basically all the accents you could think of, and he's got it. Don't ask how that's possible. It just is. Maybe it's a new kind of accent all together. I started thinking of names that would be used to name this new accent...Morainian-wait, that's not right. It can't be something out of the blue. It has to actually relate to the country. Well, maybe we could take a bit of each country to make...Ausitatishfricjamindian. There. Before long, my inner accent babble got me thinking of a new sketch idea, with someone who has an Ausitatishfricjamindian accent. The person could be new to the country, and-
"Sonny?" Chad was in front of my face, snapping his fingers. I looked around the room, and realized we were in a private room that was fairly dark; with only two candles lighting the room in the center of the table. How did we get here?
A waiter with a long ponytail came in the room with those fancy trays and smiled warmly at us. "What would you like to order?"
"O-Oh. Sorry." I grabbed the menu, and read off whatever I could find. I'm not a very picky eater, so I didn't really care what I ate. "Er...this one..." I pointed to a picture that looked appetizing, since the rest of the menu was in French and I didn't really speak French.
"Good choice," he said, smiling kindly, and then exiting the room with a little bow.
Chad chuckled once the waiter left. "You were staring at the man for five minutes not saying anything." He then quirked his eyebrows at me and turned serious."Should I be worried you'd leave me for him?"
I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my drink...whatever it was. "No. I wasn't staring at him. I was staring into space."
"Thinking about something?" I nodded, and he asked, "What?"
I laughed and decided to tell him my new sketch idea. And when Chad asked what kind of accent the character would have, I decided to make him think it was a real accent. "Ausitatishfricjamindian."
I put on my most serious face yet and tried to hold in my laughter. "Do I need to repeat it again? Ausitatishfricjamindian."
"What kind of accent is that?" Chad pulled the most ridiculous face ever and I really had to grip the edges of my chair to keep from laughing.
"I can't believe you've never heard of that! Didn't you see the Guinness World Records? It was the most unusual accent in the world."
"What country is it from?"
Shoot. I didn't think this one through. So I pretended to think really hard on this; squinting my eyes and tilting my head in a thoughtful pose. "I don't know...I forget. But it's some country near Madagascar or something. I can't believe you've never heard of that accent."
Chad, now, started to think. This is good, because it means he actually believes it. "No, never. Is it really in the Guinness World Records?"
"Yes!" And to make it more convincing, I added, "I'll show you when we get home."
He seemed satisfied enough with this, because he nodded and went back to drinking his drink and eating the small appetizers that had been laid out for us. "So have you ever heard the accent?"
"Yeah," I said, and then jerked my thumb to the door. "The receptionist guy had it."
Chad's eyes widened and he made an "o" shape with his mouth as if this perfectly made sense. "Ohh...well that would explain why I couldn't figure out what his accent was. I thought he was French. But apparently, it was Au-er..."
"Ausitatishfricjamindian." I mentally patted myself on the back for keeping it up this long and remembering all that.
"Yes. I'm going to ask him what country he's from, so we'll know what accent that is." And before I can stop him, Chad began talking to the receptionist outside about a fake accent that never really exists. I got up from my seat to hear him.
"So what country are you from?"
"Cuba." Wow. I was way off.
Chad frowned and furrowed his brows. "Then why do you have an Ausitatishfricjamindian accent?"
"E-Excuse me?" The man suddenly frowned, and he started to get pretty red too. "What did you just say to me, punk?"
Chad's eyes widened and he started to back away. "N-Nothing! I was just talking about your accent."
"What about it?"
"Why do you have an Ausitatishfricjaminidian accent if you're from Cuba?"
"Are you trying to insult me in whatever stupid language that is?" The man took off his suit, and only then did I realize how buff and big he was compared to Chad, who was cowering back and whimpering like an idiot. Oops...
"Heh heh...guys!" I quickly shoved myself between Chad and the buff dude. "Look, I'm sorry sir. He wasn't insulting anyone, really. Let me just take my boyfriend and-"
"Wait! I just wanted to know more about the Ausitatishfricjamindian accent you have!" Chad protested, and pushed me gently aside.
"Stop saying that! You think you're funny do you?"
"N-No..." Chad stammered, backing away again.
"Whatever you're saying, you think it's funny? Are you trying to make a point that people from Cuba speak like that? 'Cause I don't find that funny at all."
"N-Neither do I."
"Guys, stop it!" I squeaked.
The big man paused for a minute and stared at me. Then at Chad. "Because you have a nice girlfriend, I'll let you go. For now. But if you come back here ever again, and say those meaningless stuff again, I will have you pummelled. Understand?"
"Yes..." Chad answered, and then made his way to the door. I thought he was finally going to let it go, but at the last minute, he turned around and said, "So...that's not an Ausitatishfricjaminidian accent?"
The man roared at Chad and lunged towards him. But Chad was faster. He pulled my hand, and together we sprinted towards the car. He fell once on the sidewalk, tripping over a branch, but got right back up again. One of his shoes was ripped though; his big toe sticking out. He got frustrated, trying to walk with one ripped shoe, so he threw the ripped shoe out, and ran with one shoe the rest of the way. Nevertheless, he made it to the car just fine. Chad zoomed off the parking lot just in time to see the buff dude shaking his fist at us like an old lady.
"There is no such accent," He said, giving me a glare, "is there?"
A/N: I know I should be working on other stories-not starting a new one. But this isn't going to be that long...I think. Lols, I just wanted to dedicate a whole story to Charley for her birthday. So well, enjoy.
And if any of you actually hears an Ausitatishfricjaminidian accent, pleaaase feel free to tell me. :D