Fiction(fik'shen) n.
an imaginative creation or a pretense
that does not represent actuality but has been invented.
♥
and that's exactly what i write.
fiction.
so please don't comment me and tell me
that things in my story are wrong, or unrealistic.
not to sound rude, but it's my story, my imagination.
i'll write whatever i want to in my story. i mean,
if i want joe to get together with a penguin, it'll happen.
♥
it's mariah, once more.
i know it's a little tiring, following me from site to site.
but this site is strictly for one-shots.
♥
in case you are unaware of what a one-shot is, let me explain.
a one-shot isn't a full-out story with chapters. it is what a story
would work up to, all written up in one tiny chapter. they're easy
to write, and usually are very creative. there will be plenty of one-
shots on this site starring nick, joe, kevin, or even all three of them.
so it's up to you what to read. if you like nick, read a nick-fic.
if you like joe, read a one-shot about joe. if you're infatuated with
kevin, read one based entirely on kevin.
♥
comments are appreciated not only here,
but on my other site, xanga.com/bamm_itsalljonas.
what i write over there is a fanfiction.
read, comment, enjoy!

        I sat with Nicholas in the kitchen, heating up some leftover spaghetti in the microwave when Kevin came bustling in, a huge grin plastered on his face, no doubt just getting home after being with her.
        He plopped himself down at the kitchen table, sitting in my seat, smiling goofily at us. I looked at Nick and winked, removing the Tupperware from the microwave and sitting down, minding my own business and eating my pasta.
        His smile vanished, and he stared at me until I looked up. "Hey, Kev, I know I'm having a pretty good hair day. But you don't need to stare; it's creepy and that would be called incest."
        "Very funny, Joseph. But aren't you gonna ask why I'm smiling?"
        "You're not smiling." He put on another smile, waiting for the question. I exhaled and continued to eat, and he punched me in the arm, sending sauce dripping all over my white t-shirt. "Kevin! My gosh, I was gonna ask you. I was trying to finish my pasta in peace." He raised his eyebrows, that annoying smile still on his face. "Fine. Why are you smiling?"
        "Because I just kissed Kennedy for the first time."
        I smiled and pretended to be happy for him. "That's awesome, Kev. She's a great girl; you two really deserve each other." I've learned to lie when things are really bothering me.
        And Kevin and Kennedy's relationship? Yeah, that really bothers me. Mostly because whenever Kennedy isn't with Kevin, she's with me. Mostly because they just had their first kiss, when we had ours ages ago. Mostly because Kennedy is trying to get between two closely knit brothers - and I'm letting her.

        "Guys, stop fooling around. We really need to get this song done." Nick was tapping his pencil impatiently on his notepad, and the sound was getting to me. Me and Kevin were just trying to have a sword fight using the noodles Frankie has for our pool - we need to relax once in a while. But Nick? Nope, relax isn't even in his vocabulary. He's all work, work, work.
        "Fine, Nicholas. Interrupt us when I was totally just about to pone Kevin." I sighed dramatically and threw myself in a chair next to Nick, peering at the lyrics we had written for a song that was yet to be finished.
        "I'm hot, you're cold. You go around like you know who I am, but you don't. You've got me on my toes. I'm slipping into the lava and I can't keep from going under. Baby, you turn the temperature hotter. I'm burning up, burning up for you baby." I sang, lyrics for the next verse popping in my head. "I have an idea." I sat there, listening to the lyrics that were playing in my head.
        "What's the idea?" Kevin asked, straddling a chair, looking at me.
        "I fell," I began, and Nick nodded.
        "I fell," He repeated.
        "So fast."
        "So fast."
        Before I knew it, the image of the first time Kennedy had admitted she liked me flew into my head, and it somehow managed to weasel itself into the words. "I can't hold myself back. High heels, red dress. All by yourself, gotta impress."
        "Someone's feeling creative today." Nick smirked, and I punched him in the arm.
        "You're no tthe only lyrically gifted one, baby brother."
        "Althought sometimes it seems like he is." Kevin said with a smile, and I grinned back. I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pocket, and I took it out. Shit. It was her.
        "Uh, ex-excuse me."

        Yeah, I felt bad for ditching Nicholas and Kevin in the basement, but when a girl calls you and huskily whispers that she wants to see you, you get in a car and go. I smiled at Kennedy's mom, shook her father's hand, and was pointed upstairs towards her room.
        The sound of my white sneakers hitting the carpet must've let her know that I was near, because when I opened the door, she jumped on me. Dressed only in one of the football jerseys I had lent her, that night Kevin had spilled grape soda all over her white t-shirt.
        I was pushed down on her bed, her lips attached to mine, her hands running through my hair. She was tugging on the bottom of my shirt, and I allowed her to take it off.
        I'm slipping into the lava and I can't keep from going under. Baby, you turn the temperature hotter. I'm burning up, burning up for you baby.
        "You're better at kissing than he is, Joseph." She whispered, her eyes that were amethyst-colored thanks to contacts staring into mine. They moved slowly down to my mouth, and she bit her lip. "So much better."
        "Th-thanks." I stuttered, not knowing what to say. On one hand, she was insulting my big brother, the one who thought nothing but good things of me. He was always saying how he wondered what Kennedy was doing at that exact moment. If he knew now...World War 3: Jonas Style would happen. But on the other hand, she was so gorgeous, and the way her black hair was falling in wisps around her face made all thoughts of Kevin melt away.
        "He doesn't know you're here, does he?" She asked, leaning forward and kissing me, her hands like ice on the warmth of my skin.
        "He does now." She flew off of me, and stood there, biting her lip. She looked from me to Kevin, and turned on the waterworks.
        "Kev, I was trying to get my History paper done, when he walked into my room and grabbed me. He started kissing me and I didn't know what to do." She wailed, and turned towards me, faking an icy glare. "You-you're a bad person, Joseph Jonas!" She ran over to Kevin, burying her face in his chest. "He took advantage of me." She sobbed, looking up at Kevin with those poisonous purple eyes.
        "Is that so?" He pushed her head lightly into his chest, and winked at me. Why was he winking at me? he was supposed to be tearing me to shreds. "Joseph dropped his phone on his way over here. Is that why I found the 35 text messages you sent him, saying that you loved him and the only purpose of me was to get closer to him? Not to mention all the other dirty texts you sent him."
        She stepped back, folding her arms. "Kev-Kevin, what are you talking about?" Her hand flew to her heart as she used her left one to wipe away tears. She should win an Oscar for her acting.
        "And the 75 calls you made to him over the past week? Nowhere in his call history does it say he was calling you." He threw my phone to me and I missed it, letting it hit me in the chest. I was still in shock, I guess. "Looks like you took advantage of him."
        "It's really true, Kev, she came on to me." Better believe she did. I was stupid in allowing her to do so, but if Kevin was mad at her, better assure him that it was Kennedy who was at fault.
        "I know, Joseph." A warm smile reassured me that there was going to be no tension between us.
        "A-Are you really going to believe h-him?" Her eyes widened in mock disbelief, and he nodded. "Well, I g-guess we're over."
        "Good." Kevin said simply, smiling. He turned and left the room. Me, being the child I am, stuck my tongue out at her and hurried to catch up with Kevin.
        Outside I finally had the nerve to say something. "I really didn't mean to, Kevin. I can't hold myself back, though."
        "I know you didn't, Joe."

        "I miss you more than I did, a minute ago. I'd climb a mountain just to hear your echo, you." Nick adjusted the microphone, strumming his guitar. The song was written when he was only 13, and he was 15 now, but he was sure as hell that he loved her as much then as he did now. He shot a look at the girl in the corner, who was standing there playing with her SideKick, not even fazed by the lyrics that were being sung about her.
        "All I wanted was you. Tell me, do you think of me now and then? 'Cause if I never see you again, I'll still miss you." He sang louder, walking over to the side of the stage, playing in her direction. About eight girls turned, looking at the girl, when one finally had the guts to say something.
        "'Scuse me? Uh, I think Nick Jonas is singing to you." A girl said, pulling on Kahlen's shirt, pointing at Nick. She looked up and locked eyes with him for a moment, and then shrugged.
        "He can sing his little heart out; it's not going to make things any better."

        Nick slammed himself down on to the old, worn out tapestry couch, sitting there with his guitar on his lap. His eyes rested on his cell phone, lying on the coffee table across from him, and he pondered on whether he should call her up. His fingers were itching to make the call, but something inside him was saying 'No, Nicholas. You don't need her. She's only pushing you away.'
        And that little voice inside of him? Your conscience or whatever it was called? It was right. He needed her to tell the truth. He didn't need her to push him away anymore.
        Pushing him away? He slid open one of the drawers on the coffee table and grabbed his tattered black notebook and an eraserless pencil. He began scribbling lyrics onto the page, not stopping until he had filled the page with his thoughts that were being portrayed through his music.
        Pushing me away/
        Every last word, every single thing you say/
        Pushing me away/
        Try to stop now, but it's already too late/
        If you really don't care then say it to my face/
        Pushing me away/
        Push, push, pushing me away.

        "Nicholas?" He woke abruptly from the nap he was taking, rubbing his eyes "Nicholas, sweetie, are you down there?"
        "Yeah, Mom." He said, the sleepiness in his voice noticeable. "I'm down here."
        "Sweetie, Kahlen is here."
        He sat up, his eyes wide, the soles of his bright green Converse hitting the plush carpet. Why the hell was Kahlen in his house? She hated him, ever since the night he had told her that he was touring. She hated him, ever since he had freaked out on her for being upset, and called her selfish and some other nasty things he probably shouldn't have said. She hated him, ever since he spoke the words that truly penetrated her heart, "I hope I never see you again."
        "Uh, o-okay. Send her down, please." His voice squeaked, bracing himself for an unwanted speed bump in his life.
        When he had spat those words at her, yeah, he had meant them. But as soon as he saw the tears fill her cornflower blue eyes and watched her storm out of his house, never to return again, he had regretted saying them.
        The sound of her white ankle boots hitting the wood of his stairs made his head snap in her direction. She stood there before him, in a ruffled white mini-skirt with a brown tanktop. A denim vest was buttoned over the tank, and she had a white and brown headband in, with big earrings, long necklaces and plenty of brown and white bracelets adorning her wrists. Her light brown hair fell over her shoulders, and her hands were on her hips.
        "Why'd you put me on the spot like that?" She hissed, her blue eyes narrowing.
        "Put you on the spot like what?" Nick knew exactly what she meant. He preferred playing dumb.
        "Singing that song to me? Nick, you hope you never see me again, remember?"
         "Kahlen, stop using that as an excuse. That was a long time ago - we've both matured. I think you can get past what my dumb little 13 year old self said and give us another try. It wouldn't kill you."
        "You're right - it wouldn't kill me. Because you already did." Kahlen replied, her blue eyes filling with tears. Nick had a sudden flashback to the last time she was in his house, and shook it away. "What you said two years ago? Nick, that fucking hurt. You wouldn't know, though, because you don't feel emotion."
        "I don't feel emotion?" He stood up, his voice shaking. "I feel more emotion than you ever will. I've been singing every single song about you - and it makes me sick. You don't know what y-you've put me through."
        "I did the only thing I could do, Nicholas. I pushed you away. Believe me, it took everything in me to do it - but I had to. You went away for two years, Nick. Two tears I had to sit here, by myself, wondering what you were doing, every single fucking moment of every single fucking day."
        He grabbed her face in his hands, leaning in and kissing her. "I'm back, Kahlen." He kissed her again, her tears wetting his cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere." He kissed her again. "And if I do, you're coming with me." He kissed her once more, and smiled as he felt her kiss back. "Don't worry, you don't have to push me away."

           I grasped her hand firmly, pulling her into the second to last row in the dark movie theater, directly in front of a pretty blond girl and her date. I sat her down, and continued to watch half of the movie with her. To this day, I couldn't tell you what the movie was about. I couldn't focus. So I brushed her stick-straight, brown side bangs away from her face, leaned in, and did the only thing I could do: I kissed her.
           It wasn't long into the kiss before I heard the blond girl coughing - no doubt choking on popcorn. She always chokes; she had even made it a point to know the Heimlich before befriending her. I smiled and I think poor Hayden thought I was smiling because of the kiss - she smiled back. I feel bad, I really do - it's just, I'm not in love with her. I placed one hand on Hayden's hip, the other on her jaw line, and pulled her closer into my kiss. I want that girl behind us to cry, I want her to stomp her feet and pull her hair and beg for us to get back together.
            Instead, she took her chocolate milkshake from the Johnny Rocket's located in the movie theater and dumped it over my head. I'm Kevin Jonas, and I lost the only girl I've ever loved last month.
            All my recent girlfriends, all my recent flings, my hook-ups, and my interests - they were all just a distraction from the numbness that has taken over me for the past month. It's been exactly 30 days, 5 hours, and 34 minutes since she broke it off with me. I find it sick that I know that, but you tend to remember every little detail when it comes to someone you love.
             I've been in the news a lot lately, the center of the media frenzy, the topic of the tabloids, the obsession of an immense amount of screaming girls. I'm at the top of the world; I have everything someone could wish for. Plenty of girls are willing to give things to me - and not just presents, if you catch my drift. So I should be happy, right? I should be the happiest 20 year old in the world. But I'm not.
             Here I am, in a relationship with a girl who loves me, with a girl who is willing to give up anything for me. Her name is Hayden. I should be giving her my undying love, all of my attention. I should be living up to the romantic reputation I have earned in all the teeny-bopper magazines. But I'm not.
             When I hug her, I can't help but compare her arms to Alexia's. When I look into her eyes, I can't help but see Alexia's reflection in them. Everytime I kiss her, I can't help but wish her lips were Alexia's. I'm stuck in an unfair relationship; not only is it unfair to me, but it's ten times more unfair to Hayden.
              Joe is the ladies man of the family, Joe is the one who should be stuck in this situation, not me. I'm Kevin; I always know what I want, I know how to treat the girls. But now, I'm stringing along some innocent girl while I'm searching for something bigger.

               So I show up outside her house, my car parked on the opposite side of the street. It's pouring, it's thundering, there's lightning. I can see into her living room thanks to her window - she's snuggled up against him on the couch, under a blanket, watching a movie. I can't help but imagine what type of vulgar stuff they were doing before - he's only in this relationship to score, and sadly, I think she knows that.
              My hair is getting in my eyes and my clothes are beginning to sag, heavy from the rain. It's like I'm swimming in a pool with my clothes on, and I'm bound to get dragged to the bottom if they get heavy enough. I can't knock on her door, he would see me and that would lead to an unncessesary fight between the two. I took out my phone, not even caring about the dangers of using electricity while there's lightning and I text her. Come outside.
               I peek in once more, but I feel disgusted with myself - like a Peeping Tom, minus the whole girl-is-undressed thing. She's checking her phone; she's standing up and pointing towards her car - obviously a distraction. She's walking out of the room, leaving him by himself, and now she's standing in front of me, looking as radiant as ever - and my palms are sweating.
                I hate you, Paul Kevin Jonas the Second. She had let those words go loose before, but if she truly hated me, she wouldn't be outside.
                "Can I help you?" She hisses, shutting her door quietly behind her, standing there. She's in a navy blue and white striped wife beater, a navy blue tanktop underneath, with tiny white shorts that show off her amazing legs and she's barefoot. Her long, platinum blond hair is straight and shining, and her crystal blue eyes are lined with black, almost smoky looking. How the hell did I ever let her go?
                "I made a mistake," I hear myself say. Raindrops are dripping off my hair and face and into my mouth; this is so overwhelming. I feel like I'm drowning. "I let you go."
                "I knew that," She begins, her eyes narrowing, burning holes into me. "30 days, 5 hours, and 34 minutes ago."
                I feel my breath catch in my throat; she remembers the exact time too. "I'm tired of being stuck in this mistake." I take a step closer, my hands floating down to her waist, my brown eyes locking with her blue ones.
               She doesn't say anything, only stares back. I kiss her gently, and draw back, noticing that those liquid drops rolling down her cheeks aren't raindrops, but tears.
               "Matt's waiting." She says softly, her eyes overcome with sadness. This time, I'm the one not replying. She bites her lip, then lunges at me, her glossed lips reconnecting with mine. We stand there, kissing in the rain, until she draws back and smiles. Her teeth are still model-white; like little white Chicklets in her mouth.
               "Call me soon, Kevin." She says, opening her door and walking back inside, leaving me standing in front of her house, sopping wet.
               And just like that, with one single kiss, I have my Alexia back.
           

        "Here you go, baby. I got you a drink." Deanna handed the mixed Red Bull and Vodka to Joe, placing herself in his lap, stroking his hair.
        "Thanks." He replied, taking a long sip of it and wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him, exchanging body heat. He took another sip, glancing around the party, and noticed the front door open, two people spilling in from the warm, summer night.
        He swallowed fast and almost threw the drink back up. Blood was rushing to his head, he felt dizzy, and his eyes were bulging. It couldn't be - it couldn't be her.
        Joe squinted his eyes, trying to see through the clusters of people obscuring his vision. But sure enough, a small group of party-goers moved, allowing him to see her.
        Her long brown hair was fastened into two braids that hung down her back, swinging as she walked. Her green eyes were lined with black, making them appear brighter than ever, almost outdoing her blinding Crest-white smile. She was in a tight, fishnet shirt that stopped a good couple of inches before her belly button, with a hot pink sports bra underneath. Her skirt was obscenely short, and she was wearing bright pink heels, on the arm of some kid Joe recognized as being the goalie of the hockey team. Their eyes met and she smiled flirtaciously at him, winking.
        "Holy. Shit." He muttered, his drink slipping out of his hand, the contents splattering all over the leg of his white skinny jeans. Deanna's calves were sprayed with Red Bull, and she wrinkled her nose, standing up.
        "What's the matter?" She asked, wiping the beads of liquid off of her legs, following Joe's gaze to the girl. "Do you know her or something?" She snapped, folding her arms.
        "You could say that..." Joe said absentmindedly, running his hands through his hair. He redirected his attention to Deanna, plastering an innocent smile on his face. "It's nothing. You're so much more gorgeous, baby."
        She smiled half-heartedly, sitting down on his lap, more gingerly this time. Her brown eyes were following the girl as she made her way into the party, and Deanna whipped her head around to face Joe, pointing a manicured, painted-black nail at the girl.
        "Who is the skank?" She snipped, her eyes bruning holes into Joe. Joe looked at her and studied her face, and for the first time saw an emotion she never once portrayed before. They were mixed with anger, sadness, and insecurity. Deanna was the most self-confident girl he knew, and that's exactly why he was attracted to her.
        "Just some girl I knew." He replied, taking a sip of the Red Bull a boy at the party had handed him seconds before. "She was just one of my hook ups. A really slutty one, at that. She was always trying to get with me after; we kind've had a history, but it's nothing now." He snaked his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck. "I've got you, baby, and you're so much better."

        He was in the kitchen, his hands shaking. His breathing was becoming faster and heavier as he tried to mix the alcohol with the Red Bull. He lifted the glass bottle up, squinting at the label.
        "Stop moving, dammit." He slurred. He shrugged, not even caring if this was Vodka, and poured it, missing the glass. "Shit!" He slammed the bottle down on the counter and turned around, pressing his back to it and sliding down, his head hanging low.
        "Need help?" He raised his head, meeting the gaze of that same brunette girl who had entered the party earlier. His mouth dropped slightly, not enough so that he looked shocked, only drunk. "Need help, Joseph?" She repeated, raising an eyebrow, smirking.
        "Help...no." He slurred, standing up and stumbling a bit. "I'm...I'm okay." He smiled, walking backwards, stopping just before he landed outside onto the back deck. She walked towards him, grabbing his tie, playing with the fabric.
        "It's been a long time since I last saw you, Joey." She whispered, her hands sliding from the satin fabric of the tie to his shirt, pushing him backwards, out the door. She closed it behind them and took a step closer, her eyes burning into him.
        "Uh, yeah. Yeah." He said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He was drunk but he knew better than to put his hands on her hips; he knew better than to egg her on. He had a girlfriend and his intake of alcohol didn't make him forget that. Still, he stumbled and fell down, laying on his back.
        "It's been a long time since I last kissed you." She purred, kneeling down over him, straddling him. Her finger was tracing his lips. He swallowed hard, shutting his eyes. She was back and she was hitting on him. Shit Deanna; where are you when I need you?
        "Yeah. But it-it's cool though." He stuttered, sliding backwards, standing back up. "I mean, I'm not sure Deanna would appreciate it."
         "Deanna?" She frowned, folding her arms. "Who the hell is Deanna?"
        "M-My girlfriend. She's somewhere in the party." He laughed nervously, throwing up a hand. "Bett-better go find her." It was great how it only took a slutty past fling to help him regain soberness. He started to walk when she grabbed his collar, nearly choking him.
        "My name's Bridget, not Deanna. I'm your girlfriend; she's not." Bridget sneered, pulling him by the tie, luring him in.
        "Bridget, I can't. No-not now, no." Joe said quietly, his voice stern, massaging his throat.
        She dove in for a kiss; their lips pressed together, his hands finding their way onto her delicate hips. She let her tongue slip into his mouth and he almost choked on it; it was tainted with lies and the haunting taste of the past.
        "Whoa, sorry to interrupt. I didn't m-Joe, is that you?" A voice yelped, and Joe spun around, detangling himself from Bridget.
        "Deanna, it's not what it looks like." He closed his eyes. That was such a bull-shit movie line. "Okay, it is what it looks like, but I wasn't hooking up with her."
        "Fine. Then what were you doing?" Deanna folded her arms, tapping her foot impatiently.
        "I was going to find you."
        "Sure you were."
        "He was." Both Deanna and Joe looked at Bridget, shocked, and she smiled guiltily. "He was; I kissed him." She walked towards the door, shrugging. "Fine, whatever, I don't care. Kiss him all you want; he's not that good." She pushed her way through Deanna and left the two, awkwardly staring at each other.
        "Slut." He muttered, shaking his head. He took a step forward, getting lost in Deanna's eyes. "Whatever, I've got you, baby, and you're so much better."