iwishiwas13 (iwishiwas13) wrote in gcfanfics,
iwishiwas13
iwishiwas13
gcfanfics

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Title: Unexpected Love
Author: Me, Myself, and I
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Romantic fic about Paul and a fictional female charcter.
Disclaimer: Complete fiction.  Did not happen.


*~*Lacey’s Point Of View*~*

 

 

“Hey there, Lacey.” Platinum’s bouncer, Pete, said as I walked in. “Where’s Juliette?” He asked.

“At my parent’s.” I answered, walking inside.

It was bad enough working at a strip club. I didn’t want to bring Juliette with me. How was I supposed to explain that when she got older? So I usually dropped her off at my parent’s house. But they didn’t know where I worked either.

Inside, I walked quickly to the dressing room. All the regular creeps nodded, waved, or whistled at me as I walked by. I ignored them and pushed the dressing room door open.

“Hey Lacey.” One of the other “dancers”, Jane, said. “Did Pete tell you? We have some celebrities here tonight!” She was rather excited about this.

“Oh really? Who?” I asked.

“The guys of Good Charlotte!” Jane squealed.

“Oh wow. That’s cool. I love their music.” I answered. I put on my costume, or lack thereof, and waited for Tony, the owner of the club, to tell me what stage I was “dancing” on.

“Alright ladies!” Tony said as he barged in five minutes later. “Lacey, you’ll be dancing on the V.I.P. stage tonight. There famous and will tip well, so, be sexy. Now get going!” He told me, pointing his thumb at the door. I rolled my eyes and walked away.

I walked backstage and waited for my music cue. It was funny that I would be dancing for Good Charlotte when my new routine was to their song, “Lifestyles of the Rich and the Famous”.

I heard the music start and I stepped onstage and began my routine.

All five Good Charlotte members were sitting at the foot of the stage. They whistled and cat-called as I danced. One of the five (the blonde one, I think his name was Paul or something) was sitting in the back, sipping a beer, and not really paying attention. Well, I would fix that.

I danced and shimmied on over to him. As I sexily stepped off the stage he finally looked up. I took one step and froze.

It was Paul. Paul from the store, Paul. Paul that was so friendly, wanted to date me, helped me with Juliette, Paul. Famous Paul? His mouth was hanging open in shock. His eyes were locked to mine. His friends were looking from him to me with confusion.

“Lacey?” He whispered.

I turned, jumped back onstage, and ran back to the dressing room. I quickly pulled on my sweatpants, hoodie, and sneakers. I shouted to the other girls to tell Tony that I was sick, and ran to my car.

*~*Paul’s Point Of View*~*

 

“Lacey?” I whispered.

As she turned and ran, the guys pounced.

“That’s Lacey?!” Joel exclaimed.

“Eighteen year old mother Lacey is a stripper?!” Chris said.

“Are you out of your mind Paul?” Billy asked.

Ignoring them, I jumped up after he. Benji grabbed my arm, trying to hold me back, but I brushed him off.

I ran out of the club and quickly searched that parking lot for her car. Just as I found it, I saw her running towards it. But I was faster, and I reached her car before she did, blocking her way.

“Paul, please move out of the way.” She pleaded.

“This is where you work?” I asked calmly.

“And this is where you hang out with your friends?” She retorted. This girl was tough.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked gently, not backing down.

“And why didn’t you tell me that you’re in some famous band?” Damn this girl is good.

“Well, I didn’t want you to judge me.” I answered honestly.

“And you wouldn’t have judged me if I told you that I’m a stripper?” She asked coldly.

“Have dinner with me.” I requested, ignoring the past five minutes.

“Wait, what?” She asked, confused.

“Have dinner with me.” I repeated. And before she could protest, I took her keys out of her hand, gently pushed her into her passenger seat, slid into the driver’s seat, and drove away.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked.

“Depends. What are you hungry for?” I said pleasantly.

“A big bowl of spaghetti.” She answered truthfully.

“Then I know just the place.” I told her. Five minutes later, I parked the car in front of a small Italian restaurant called “Mama Mia’s”.

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