brocietiesgreatestidol:
Billy was once again in his mansion, though it was another one of those more calm days where the rock star had like. Zero concerts. Which, to him, was always a bit boring, so he figured he’d head up to the studio for today since he was feeling musical and there was no one around to his knowledge. He could just create a song off the top of his head, no problem—
Wait, what was that noise? It sounded like there was something—or someone— up above him, tapping on the ceiling, but that wasn’t possible, right? Okay. He was already panicking and had to dismiss the phenomenon—he felt like he was in a horror movie, and dear god, he couldn’t stand anything even remotely creepy. Yup, he was not dealing with this, goodbye.
He rushed ahead, determined to escape, but that bizarre noise only sounded closer as he approached—should he just turn around now? Like, what else were you supposed to do when terrifying noises started appearing out of the blue like that?
Just as he was about to make a u-turn, however, he heard glass cracking, and hesitantly glanced up towards the window, anticipating like. A gremlin or demon or zombie. When he did catch a glimpse of what lurked above, the glass shattered, and they fell to the ground of his mansion, which meant—oh, GOD, NO. THERE WAS SOMETHING IN HIS MANSION. NO.
Releasing a girlish squeal of dread, he jerked back and nearly crashed to his feet, but he was NOT about to have such a casualty ruin his chances of escape, so he balanced himself and finally eyed the intruder with fear in his eyes, at first, until the redhead introduced himself as a fan, and Billy let out a small sigh of relief. It wasn’t the first time that a fan had managed to break into his house, though it was somewhat rare that they’d even try to.
Jack Spicer, huh? The name sounded somewhat familiar, and he did recognize that name from a few—no, make that LOTS of fanmail he’d recieved from the guy. He’d also claimed the title of genius, but seeing as to how he’d managed to break the window on his ceiling, that was something that Billy somewhat doubted. He wasn’t quite over his initial shock yet, but hey, this kid DID seem pretty wicked from what the idol could tell; his get up was tricked out and Billy found that to be awesome—so, if he had as cool of a personality as his outfit suggested, sure, he could chill with BJC. After all, a day in the mansion alone DID strike him as boring.
“Uh…hey there, rigabrony.” he greeted a bit awkwardly, offering Jack a smile in order to not look like a total coward after the scare he’d just had. Normally, he wouldn’t stand for vandalism, but he was a Cobrahead, and that meant automatic coolness, and money wasn’t any issue for Billy. “Yeah, I think I recognize your name, brojangles! I get lots of fanmail from you, don’t I? Oh, and I guess you’re all honored to meet me, right? Billy Joe Cobra’s the name, but you already knew that. Nice to meet you!”
Oh god, oh man, oh god, look at that. BJC was actually talking to him instead of getting some security guards to boot the poor kid from the mansion! And he recognized his name from the letters he’d sent and he called him bro TWICE and he actually said it was nice to met him and this…. this is like the number one ultimate achievement. Well, the number two ultimate achievement. Conquering the world was still number one on the boy’s list, after all. Because evil waits for no one or something like that.
But. It could wait a day at least, right? This meeting was basically a once in a lifetime opportunity. Or like. A thrice in a lifetime opportunity, maybe. Yeah, evil could wait for that. Besides, it’s not like Jack would have been able to get much done while locked up in some lame hotel room, either.
Okay, wait, he said things to you, Jack, you should probably say things back instead of standing there like some nerdy fan. Actually, you probably can’t stop doing the latter. It’s okay. I forgive you. You can talk AND stand there like some nerdy fan, it’s alright.
“Yeah! Yeah, that’s me!” His voice may or may not have squeaked a bit at the end. Dealing with puberty AND meeting your favorite popstar ever at the same exact time is hard. It’s hard and nobody understands unless they were Jack Spicer at this very exact moment in time. And no one was. Except for, you know. Jack Spicer at this very exact moment in time.
“A-Anyway, it’s great to finally meet you, Mr. BJC, Sir. You’re like, my idol. Other than my evil heroes, I mean” Oh god, he looked like a train wreck of nerves. It was like meeting Hannibal Bean all over again only this time he wasn’t being called out on his stupid fears. Which somehow only made him more anxious. How the heck do you talk to people that aren’t evil.
Actually, a better question would be ‘How the heck do you talk to people who have no actual alignment?’ Because Jack, for one, had no idea. Talking to people like Chase and Wuya were easy and, although those conversations made the teen feel uneasy at times, he knew how to handle them, at least. And talking to good guys? Like Omi and Kimiko and the rest of those kung fu dweebs? That’d become an easy task for Jack, as well. Insults, gloats, and blatant denial of practically anything they accused you of unless it was evil or cheating or something of that nature. Piece of cake.
This, though? Oh god, this was another deal entirely.
