The Reckless and the Misbehaved
Alex Gaskarth, The Gorgeous Douchebag
Blaire’s POV
I’m embarrassed to admit my excitement for my end of the year filmmaking project. We have to create a documentary about someone—anyone—as long as we film everything and witness what they do first hand. Most of the people in my class have already decided to follow around an adult who’s successful in their business—lawyers and doctors and shit like that—but I want to take a different approach. All Time Low. I graduated from high school with these guys, and since senior year, their band has exploded with popularity. They would be the perfect people for my documentary. Everything about them would appeal to college life. If only I could get up the nerve to ask to follow them around. I’m not even sure that they know me. I didn’t really know Zack or Jack. Rian was nice—we were Physics partners—but he might’ve changed. And however nice any of them were, their cordialness couldn’t remunerate for the rudeness and insolence of their lead singer, Alex Gaskarth. He was hot as hell, I’d give him that. Girls in high school swooned over him. He’d fucked at least half the school—girls and guys—and wore that with pride on his shoulders. But douchebag or not, Alex Gaskarth was gorgeous and he’d be perfect on camera. All at once, I gathered my nerves and headed over to Alex’s house (he always had huge parties so everyone knew where he lived) to ask their permission to make them my subjects.
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Alex’s POV
Jack was fucking late. If he didn’t show up soon, I was honestly going to throw a fit. Rian and Zack had been over for almost half an hour and they refused to start the movie without Jack. That bastard. Everything was always on his time. I was getting really fucking sick of his shit.
“Can’t we just go ahead and play the movie?” I suggested for the fourth time.
“Stop whining, Alex.” Rian said, drinking some beer. “He’ll be here eventually. What rush are you in?”
“He’s Alex Fucking Gaskarth. He always has plans, right Alex?” Zack said, a smirk playing at his lips. He was right. I had two girls coming over tonight, and they were hot. I didn’t know their names, but they were from the bar down the street.
“Of course that’s right.” I said. Finally, there was a knock at the door. I was totally ready to knock the shit out of Jack for putting me so far behind schedule. I swung the door open. “It’s about fucking time you showed up, you son of a--” A short girl with long, messy blonde hair in two pigtails stuffed underneath an artist’s cap was standing at my door looking at me with a shocked expression. Her mouth was open slightly. She had full, light pink lips and amazing green eyes. She was fucking beautiful. “Who the hell are you?” I asked. She wasn’t one of the girls I’d picked up at the bar. She didn’t look the type, and besides—I would’ve remembered a face that beautiful.
“I’m Blaire Devanney.” The girl said, stumbling over her words. “I went to high school with you?” There were three hundred people in our graduating class. I’d be crazy to remember all of them. But how could I forget someone so hot? She must’ve bloomed later.
“Oh. Right. What do you want?” I said. It might’ve sounded rude, but I didn’t care.
“Well, um, I’m a film student, and I—I know you have a really cool band, so I was wondering if--” Blaire hesitated and looked at the ground.
“Hm?” I encouraged her to continue.
“I was wondering if I could do a documentary on you.” Blaire finally spat out.
“Me?” I inquired further.
“Your band.”
“So basically me?” I smirked.
“Whatever.” Wow. Attitude much? Not very polite.
“You know, ‘whatever’ isn’t the nice way to ask for something.” I said. “But I can forgive it, it you come over later tonight. I had other plans, but--” I took her hands in mine and kissed them, lowering my voice to a husky whisper. “—I’ll cancel them if I get you.” Blaire was silent for a moment. Then, she tugged her hand out of mine.
“Just forget it Gaskarth.” Blaire turned to walk off. I’d never been rejected before. Not that directly, at least.
“Fine.” I called after her. “You can do your little documentary.”
“Great.” Blaire called to me, not sounding very enthused. “I’ll be over tomorrow at noon.” She said as she casually walked off. I made the vow to myself that moment. I would get Blaire Devanney if it was the last person I did.
I’m embarrassed to admit my excitement for my end of the year filmmaking project. We have to create a documentary about someone—anyone—as long as we film everything and witness what they do first hand. Most of the people in my class have already decided to follow around an adult who’s successful in their business—lawyers and doctors and shit like that—but I want to take a different approach. All Time Low. I graduated from high school with these guys, and since senior year, their band has exploded with popularity. They would be the perfect people for my documentary. Everything about them would appeal to college life. If only I could get up the nerve to ask to follow them around. I’m not even sure that they know me. I didn’t really know Zack or Jack. Rian was nice—we were Physics partners—but he might’ve changed. And however nice any of them were, their cordialness couldn’t remunerate for the rudeness and insolence of their lead singer, Alex Gaskarth. He was hot as hell, I’d give him that. Girls in high school swooned over him. He’d fucked at least half the school—girls and guys—and wore that with pride on his shoulders. But douchebag or not, Alex Gaskarth was gorgeous and he’d be perfect on camera. All at once, I gathered my nerves and headed over to Alex’s house (he always had huge parties so everyone knew where he lived) to ask their permission to make them my subjects.
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Alex’s POV
Jack was fucking late. If he didn’t show up soon, I was honestly going to throw a fit. Rian and Zack had been over for almost half an hour and they refused to start the movie without Jack. That bastard. Everything was always on his time. I was getting really fucking sick of his shit.
“Can’t we just go ahead and play the movie?” I suggested for the fourth time.
“Stop whining, Alex.” Rian said, drinking some beer. “He’ll be here eventually. What rush are you in?”
“He’s Alex Fucking Gaskarth. He always has plans, right Alex?” Zack said, a smirk playing at his lips. He was right. I had two girls coming over tonight, and they were hot. I didn’t know their names, but they were from the bar down the street.
“Of course that’s right.” I said. Finally, there was a knock at the door. I was totally ready to knock the shit out of Jack for putting me so far behind schedule. I swung the door open. “It’s about fucking time you showed up, you son of a--” A short girl with long, messy blonde hair in two pigtails stuffed underneath an artist’s cap was standing at my door looking at me with a shocked expression. Her mouth was open slightly. She had full, light pink lips and amazing green eyes. She was fucking beautiful. “Who the hell are you?” I asked. She wasn’t one of the girls I’d picked up at the bar. She didn’t look the type, and besides—I would’ve remembered a face that beautiful.
“I’m Blaire Devanney.” The girl said, stumbling over her words. “I went to high school with you?” There were three hundred people in our graduating class. I’d be crazy to remember all of them. But how could I forget someone so hot? She must’ve bloomed later.
“Oh. Right. What do you want?” I said. It might’ve sounded rude, but I didn’t care.
“Well, um, I’m a film student, and I—I know you have a really cool band, so I was wondering if--” Blaire hesitated and looked at the ground.
“Hm?” I encouraged her to continue.
“I was wondering if I could do a documentary on you.” Blaire finally spat out.
“Me?” I inquired further.
“Your band.”
“So basically me?” I smirked.
“Whatever.” Wow. Attitude much? Not very polite.
“You know, ‘whatever’ isn’t the nice way to ask for something.” I said. “But I can forgive it, it you come over later tonight. I had other plans, but--” I took her hands in mine and kissed them, lowering my voice to a husky whisper. “—I’ll cancel them if I get you.” Blaire was silent for a moment. Then, she tugged her hand out of mine.
“Just forget it Gaskarth.” Blaire turned to walk off. I’d never been rejected before. Not that directly, at least.
“Fine.” I called after her. “You can do your little documentary.”
“Great.” Blaire called to me, not sounding very enthused. “I’ll be over tomorrow at noon.” She said as she casually walked off. I made the vow to myself that moment. I would get Blaire Devanney if it was the last person I did.
6/24/13