"Get-the-girl Off" Part One Of Three - A WOWP/RL crossover crack!fic Collaboration Extravaganza!
Title:: "Get-The-Girl" Off
Author: A Collaboration between arkeis07 and initiatesix!!!!!!!!!!
Fandom and Pairing: Wizards of Waverly Place - Real Life; Alex Russo/Demi Lovato
Genre: Drama, crack and silliness.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A normal day at the Waverly Sub Station is punctuated by the not-so-stealthy arrival of Demi Lovato, international music sensation. A tale of friendship, fame, lust, jealousy, and rivalry.
Word Count: ~4300 (holy crap)
Justin's Note: THAT'S RIGHT, SPORTS FANS! Coming at you live from the demi_selena arena is the craziest, wackiest, crackiest collab this side of a Camp Rock/Star Trek crossover. arkeis07 and initiatesix have joined forces to bring you this little gem! Please enjoy!
Alana's Note: micked18 gets an honorable mention here, for suppling me with the name of Demi's hotel, the New York Palace Hotel on Madison Ave. Thanks BB, you set off an obsessive google maps addiction and a chain reaction of plot points in my head that allowed me to finish my story when I was having trouble. XD
Also, please know that the directions given in this fic by Alex are COMPLETELY LEGIT. There is, in fact, a GAY STREET, right off of WAVERLY PLACE in NY. Funny, yeah? We lol'ed.
Our story begins in an ordinary sandwich shop on an ordinary street in the generally ordinary city of New York. To the outside world, the Russo family was a completely normal family, devastatingly nondescript and average in every conceivable way. The Waverly Sub Station was a well known fixture of Waverly Place, a quaint side street where everyone was quite normal and unremarkable, thank-you-very-much.
The eldest son of the Russo family, a strapping lad named Justin, was proud of his family's normal image. He was proud, however, not because he wanted to be normal, or average, or nondescript, but because he knew the truth.
The Russo family had a secret.
Deep within him, as well as his younger brother and sister, ran the blood of Wizards.
He bore this secret with pride, a secret he would not share, even with his true love, Demi, an innocent bystander in a conflict that was broiling deep within the Wizard world, a war Justin found himself painfully involved in.
With an abrupt slam, and an unladylike-like snort, Alex Russo shuts the marble notebook titled “Justin's Journal - Private”.
It's a slow day at the Waverly Sub Station, which is unusual for this time of year. There are a few random customers dotting the main dining area, but not enough to keep them busy. Justin is wiping the empty tables down for a fourth time, while Alex has been occupying herself in the back, reading through her brother's private journal.
She sighs boredly, slipping the journal back into its hiding place and lets her eyes drift over the four or five customers dotting the room.
There's the typical darkly clothed writer sitting in the corner, nursing a cup of coffee that's gone cold long ago while he pores over his notebook. A few tables away is a single mother with twin girls, struggling to get them to just shut up and eat already. Next to her, looking increasingly uncomfortable, sits a regular, a guy who comes in only on days when it's slow due to his debilitating fear of social situations.
And then, far from the rest of the customers, sits a girl who's probably around her own age, hiding rather poorly behind a newspaper that's been opened to it's full size. It's comical to say the least, and Alex can't help but wonder what she's hiding from.
She's about to step out from behind the counter to go and investigate while pretending to take mystery girl's order when a couple of things happen at once: Justin smoothly moves from cleaning mode to waiter mode, suddenly at the girl's table and asking for her order, and at the same time, a mountain of a man sidles up to the counter with a swiftness that seems impossible for someone his size.
“Um, can I help you?” Alex asks, disdain barely hidden in her voice as she surveys the man's slightly stained wife beater and too-tight jean shorts.
“Yea, lemme get a cheesesteak wit' double meats and double cheese, and make it snappy, y'hear?” The man gives his order in a thick Jersey accent while scratching unattractively at his exposed midriff.
Alex diverts her eyes under the pretense of writing down the man's order, but really it's to avoid losing her lunch or at the very least straight up hitting the guy in his jiggly gullet.
“Will that be all, sir?” She asks this with eyes still averted of course.
“Nah, that'll do lady.”
Without even acknowledging the man, she turns and heads into the back to make the guy's sandwich. She throws it together on autopilot, not even checking the slip and instead just putting together a regular cheesesteak.
Justin enters the back just as she finishes, an excited look on his face.
“Alex, you'll never guess who-”
“Yeah, fascinating,” she interrupts him, handing him the plate with the cheesesteak, “Order up for the big guy at table seven.”
“But Alex, seriously, that girl out there is-”
“Order, fat dude, go!”
Justin, his mannerisms reminding her of a little kid with a secret, or at least a really bad need for the toilet, looks torn for a second before he groans and rushes the order out to the front.
Alex just chuckles to herself, and with a muttered, “too easy”, she sits down heavily on one of the stools at the sandwich station and pulls out a small stack of fashion magazines, all with titles like “On The Edge Monthly”, “At The Edge Quarterly”, “Fashion Edge”, “The Edge”, and “Edgy”.
Settling for “Edgy”, she pushes the rest of the stack aside and throws her choice open to a random page.
There, staring straight at her, is the intense gaze of Demi Lovato.
Her face takes up most of the page, which is headlined with “Teen Pop Star To Attend NYC Fashion Week”, but Alex ignores the headline and accompanying mini-article and just keeps right on studying the rocker's face.
Her lips are parted and turned upward in a slight grin, like she's sharing a joke with the reader, and despite how close she is to the camera and the resolution of the picture, her skin is possibly the smoothest Alex has ever seen. She knows that these magazines like to airbrush their models to make them seem more perfect, but Alex likes to hold onto her fantasy that in real life, Miss Lovato is just that perfect all on her own.
She's jolted out of her study of the teen star's magazine-borne face when Justin comes almost-sprinting into the back, his task done.
“Alex, seriously, you'll never guess who's out there in the shop!”
Alex quirks an eyebrow up at him and crosses her arms expectantly.
There's a few seconds of silence.
“...So are you going to tell me who it is?”
“Right!” Justin exclaims, “I just thought you might wanna guess, you know, cause I was all 'you're never going to guess who's out there', and it could have been fun to have a little guessing game, a little back and forth, but if you just want me to tell you-”
“Oh, are we finally getting to that?”
“-Then I'll tell you.” Justin takes a deep breath, and then leans in close conspiratorially. Alex subtly leans away.
“You know that girl at the booth with the newspaper?” His voice is barely a whisper.
Alex nods impatiently.
“Well, I went up to take her order, and she didn't have sunglasses on or anything so I got a good look at her face, and Demi Lovato is totally sitting in our sandwich shop right now.”
It only takes a few seconds of his intense gaze and his excited feet shuffling for Alex to laugh in his face and push him away.
“That's a good one, Justin. And I bet Barney is upstairs dancing on the terrace right now, too?”
“Ha ha, Alex. If you don't believe me, just go out there and see for yourself.”
“No, because I'm not going to bother a random customer because she might vaguely resemble your biggest celebrity crush.”
“Fine,” Justin says, grabbing a glass and filling it with a little ice and a generous amount of Sprite, “I'm going take this soda to Demi, then I'm going to go get my guitar and serenade her with my song ideas until she falls in love with me and takes me on tour with her. Have fun working in the sub shop!”
And with that, he was out the door, soda held out in front of him like it was the nectar of the gods instead of a $1.69 glass of Sprite.
Alex scoffs to herself and turns back to her magazine, but she finds that she suddenly can't concentrate.
'Granted, Justin is easily excitable and all, but what if he's right?'
So a quick peek can't hurt anything, she decides, and grabs her magazine and determinedly heads out to the front. She pretends to be engrossed in an article on the appropriate use of rhinestones, all the while sneaking glances at the girl in the corner booth. Each time, though, the girl's newspaper is firmly in front of her face, and soon Alex gives up the pretense of reading her magazine, leaving it open and forgotten on the counter in front of her as she stares at the girl.
She's staring for awhile, lost in her thoughts for more than a few seconds, and then she suddenly realizes that the girl has dropped her newspaper and is staring right back at her.
Alex has a couple of shocking revelations in that instant: the girl in the corner booth is undoubtedly Demi Lovato, super-famous teen musician and secret obsession/crush for millions of guys and girls, and Alex has just been caught staring at her like a psychopath.
She drops her eyes to her magazine immediately, trying to fight the unexplainable reddening of her cheeks.
“Just pretend to be reading, Alex, she'll look away, you're just a crazy register girl to her,” she mutters to herself.
But she finds she can't follow her own advice, and when she looks back up, Demi is still staring at her, a small challenging smirk on her lips and a quirk to her eyebrow.
It's the challenging look that erases her embarrassment at being caught staring.
Alex closes the fashion magazine she’s been “reading” with a determined look aimed at the beauty’s direction. She takes careful stock of the surroundings looking for her in. She spots it in the form of Demi’s drained soda glass.
Smirking in triumph, she grabs a glass, fills it with soda and starts to head toward the girl, intending to charm her with a heretofore never offered free refill. Three feet from her destination, a crash and the sound of a guitar being banged against the staircase makes Alex turn her head, and just in time, to not-so-gracefully side-step a careening Justin, who takes her place next to Demi on the booth. Justin dramatically strums his guitar and says, “I hope I didn’t keep you, mi amore.” Alex huffs and stalks back to the counter, waiting for the inevitable crash and burn.
Alex can’t hear their conversation from where she’s not sulking, but she can certainly imagine the words coming out of Justin’s mouth, as well as the high pitched girly tone with which he speaks:
“Ohh, Demi, I’ve just written a song for youuu. If you like, I can totally come by your studio and teach it to youuu.”
“Oh, lemme play it for you, my love; ping-bow-wow-ping-ping-ohhhh, my name is Justin and I love to play with toy submarines and build robot friends since I have none in real lifeeeeeeee!!!”
Alex smirks devilishly at her own humor, but cringes when suddenly the “ping-bow-wow-ping-ping” of Justin’s guitar fills the sub shop. Alex thinks maybe she should throw something at Justin to make him stop - according to her dad, anything that loses customers must be stopped immediately - and judging by the scraping of chairs and the bustle towards the doors, Justin is effectively killing business.
Before she can do anything though, the obese ill-mannered customer is back in her face.
“Uh, yea, sowry ‘bout dis lil’ huneh, but I orda’d a DOUBLE on mah cheesesteak. An’ I dunno ‘bout youse, but I see neithers DOUBLE MEAT nor DOUBLE CHEESE hea. Now, how we gunna fix dis lil’ mix up, eh?”
Alex meanwhile, barely registers the thick man with the even thicker Jersey accent and instead struggles to see past his girth.
“Gah, I dunno, take it up with the owner.” She says distractedly as she leans dangerously off of the stool behind the counter.
“Uh, no, dea’s no need for dat. Jus gimme some extra cheese and steak.”
“Look, can’t you see I’m in the middle of something very important? Buzz off, dude!”
“Hey, what I see is a lil’ girl who can’t talk to her eldas right and iz disrespectin me, now settle down and fetch mah orda, EMPLOYEE!!”
“Ugh, move” Alex huffs angrily as she clambers up on top of the counter on her knees and roughly pushes the man’s head out of her way. She sees that Justin is still nervously plucking at his guitar, trying to subtly inch closer to Demi, who is just as subtly inching closer to the edge of the booth.
“Justin!!! Order UP!! Fix this guy’s sandwich will ya?”
“ALEX, I’M IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING,” he shouts back her way through gritted teeth. “... hehe, little sisters, so incompetent. Now where were we?....”
“’A-ight, lil’ girl, dat’s it! I wanna see the OWNA, LIKE, YESTADAY!!!”
“Yeah? Well, he’s um, over in the subway carriage, why don’t you go find him? Yeah, go on, go go!! Don’t wanna lose him, do you?”
The irate customer stalks off toward the back of the shop, and Alex tries again to speed up Justin’s epic!fail.
“JUSTIN! ERIC MCCOURMAK JUST TOLD ME THAT HE DOESN’T THINK YOUR ROBOTS CAN DANCE. SAYS HE’S GONNA WIPE THE FLOOR WITH YOUR ROBO-BUDDIES AND THEN DO THE WORM WITH HIS OWN ROBOT AT THE INVITATIONAL NEXT WEEKEND!!!!!” She practically screams this at him, hoping the tone of her voice sounds urgent to Justin’s ears.
It works.
“WHAT!?!” Justin jumps up from his seat so fast that Demi’s glass of melted ice and left over soda spills down the front of his pants. Alex covers up her mouth with both hands in a vain attempt to keep the cackle that is rising in her throat from escaping, but quickly recovers to add, “Justin! Change your pants and go outside and defend your honor! Go!”
Justin doesn’t even bother to excuse himself from Demi before he hops onto and over the table and races up the metal staircase to his room, his guitar waving dangerously behind him in his tight grasp.
Demi looks visibly relieved, but glances up suddenly and catches Alex off guard. Alex, in a rare moment of clumsiness, lets the glass she’s been gripping tightly slip from her fingers and spill all over the counter in an embarrassing mess.
“WAH! Oh no...” Alex grumbles as she reaches for the nearest towel and starts cleaning up. She’s surprised to say the least when the hem of Demi’s ornate designer shirt enters her line of vision. Her eyes travel slowly upward before coming to a stop at the girl’s flawless face.
“Hi. It’s Alex, right?”
“Oh wow. How-“ Alex looks around suspiciously “-how did you know my name? Did Justin say anything to you? Because, you know, he is such a dweeb, and I‘ve only been hauled off to jail once, and they kept me overnight ONLY because I had lost my school I.D. and -“
“No, no, I just - read your name tag” She pokes at the tag on Alex’s chest and grins like a Cheshire cat. “But I’d love to hear this story about jail...” A fangirlish squeal is heard from outside the shop, and Demi’s grin falls quickly, “…some other time. Listen, is there like, a back exit I can escape through?” she asks in a nervous undertone.
“Uh, yeah, sure, this way.” Alex grows nervous as well as her eyes land on a group of tween girls who suddenly burst into the shop.
“Quick! Hide your face!” Alex shoves her fashion magazine in Demi’s chest and grabs her arm tightly, leading her haphazardly up the rickety stairs into the Russo living room. Alex worries that Justin may drop in at any moment, so she quickly escorts Demi out to the terrace and onto the fire escape.
She goes first down the ladder and urges Demi to follow.
“By the way, my name’s Demi Lo-“
“I know who you are. Do you think I help just anybody escape hordes of screaming fans by taking them through the house and out the fire escape?”
“Well, actually, it seems like you're not used to helping others very often. I saw how angry that customer was…”
“Hey, I work with what I got. You want my help or what?” Alex replies with sass.
“Fine! Sorry!”
“Yeah, you’re lucky you’re cute, because I could have totally let those girls trample you - it would’ve meant more hungry customers for the shop.” Alex remarks.
“Well, thank god for that then. But don’t think you’ve got a free pass just because you’ve rescued me.”
“Girl, I don’t need your free pass to make my move. I’m the smoothest criminal this side of Hell’s Kitchen.” Alex can feel what’s happening. They’re flirting. Dangerously. While fleeing through the rusty and decrepit metal fire escape.
This knowledge doesn’t stop her from placing her hand on Demi’s ass before they descend to the last level of the fire escape.
“Wh-what are you doing?!” Demi hisses indignantly.
“Don’t move and shut it! Look down!” Alex whispers heatedly.
Alex sees Demi’s eyes widen in fear as she spots the tail end of yet another group of young girls as they pass the alleyway.
Both girls let out a loud sigh of relief as the last fangirl disappears around the corner.
“Oh, well, thanks for that” Demi apologizes sheepishly.
“Don’t worry about it. Now come on.”
Alex jumps down skillful from the last rung of the ladder about 6 feet from the ground. She catches Demi as she stumbles from her own fall. Her hands grip tightly around the shirt covering Demi’s back and waist. She lets her hands stay there for just a few seconds to long.
“You okay, princess?” Alex asks cheekily.
“Just fine, prince charming, just fine. Now,” She turns conspiratorially towards Alex, “I need to find my way back to my hotel without getting caught. Care to show the way?”
Alex smirks and links their arms together, but halts suddenly before she even takes a step. Her face falls.
“I… can’t leave work. Dad will kill me.”
“Oh, all right then…” Demi looks down as her voice drops in pitch.
“But! I can probably draw you map that’ll get you back in one piece,” Alex offers.
She pulls out her pen and pad for taking orders and asks, “What’s the hotel, miss teen queen?”
“It’s the New York Palace Hotel on Madison Ave. All the models for Fashion Week are being put up there. It’s the one they use in ‘Gossip Girl!’” She adds excitedly, her voice squeaking subtly. “And by the way, quit it with the nicknames. Call me Demi. We’re friends now, deal with it.” She smirks as she moves closer to watch Alex scribble a map on the small piece of paper.
“Yeah, whatever, I got it. Ok, listen up, you’re gonna go out this back way, then head down past Gay Street here,” she points, ”until you hit 6th Ave. Walk up 2 blocks to the 9th Street Station. From there you gotta catch the F train headed to Jamaica Station. It’s like, 40 blocks after that,” she trails her finger up her hastily drawn map, ”so you get off at Rockefeller Station. Walk down West 48th street in the direction of the traffic, turn up on Madison Ave and in just three blocks, you’re home.”
Alex finally looks up to see that Demi’s eyes are staring at her incredulously.
“What? Too fast for you?”
“Um, do you seriously expect me to be able to make it all the way there? By myself?” Demi puts her hands on her hips and her eyebrows shoot upward.
Alex bites her lip in thought. “You’re right. You would totally get mobbed n’ robbed on the subway. Bad idea.”
Alex grabs Demi’s wrist and starts to lead her down the alleyway.
“Ok, this is what’s gonna happen. I got you all the way down here, it can’t hurt if I walk you up to 6th Ave and hail a cab for you. And I’ll make sure he doesn’t cheat you. I know the cab company - funny story, actually; anyway, they’re good people, but they like to mess with tourists sometimes. “
Demi follows wordlessly behind Alex, gripping her hand tightly, obviously trying to avoid making herself any more noticeable. They make it to 6th Avenue without any trouble, although Alex did have to shoo away a street seller with a powerful death glare.
Standing next to Alex at the curb after Alex gets a cab on the first try, Demi takes Alex’s hand to get her attention.
“I wanna thank you, Alex. This has been quite the adventure.”
“No problem, princ-“ she stops herself, “Demi. Glad to help.” And she means it too.
“So, um, anyway…” she snatches Alex’s pen from her apron pocket and begins to write on Alex’s hand held tightly in her grasp,”… this is my cell. Call me, ok? I’m here for all of Fashion Week.” She grins up at Alex, “ And I’d love to hear more about your funny stories of jail and cab drivers.”
Alex can hardly believe her luck, but keeps her cool. “Yeah, sure. I have school during the week, but I can totally show up late if you wanna grab breakfast tomorrow, or whatever.”
Alex opens the cab door for Demi as the popstar asks skeptically, “Can you really?”
“Oh, yeah. Me and Mr. Laritate are like this,” she raises her hand and crosses her ring and middle finger together tightly.
Demi smirks at Alex as she steps into the cab. “Hmm, I’m not sure I believe you. But I’m free after 3 o’clock tomorrow. If you’re interested.”
“Sweet deal. See you, Demi. And remember to act really interested in that magazine when you get out of the cab, alright?”
“Thanks, I will. Bye Alex. I had a wonderful time with you today.”
And with that, the door closes and the yellow cab shoots off into the hectic bustle of New York City traffic.
“Wow. That sounded like I took her on a date…” Alex muses aloud as she makes her way back to the sub station, and her abandoned shift.
The second she steps through the sub station doors she is bombarded by Justin.
He frantically fires off questions about Demi, where’d she go, is she coming back, did she say anything about him, what’s her hair smell like. But all Alex hears is a very irritating, “blah blah blah Demi, blah blah blah Demi, blah blah, I’m a nerd blah blah.”
She pushes past Justin as her father yells at her from the kitchen about leaving the shop for so long.
“Dad, I was doing you a favor! A customer ran outta here without paying, so I caught him and took his cash!” The lie slips easily from her lips.
“Wah, guh, hey, ooh, Alex! That’s no excuse for leaving your brother to fend- …how much did he owe? You got it all, right?” his voice turning hopeful at the end of the sentence.
“Yes, dad. All of it. And tips!”
“That’s my girl! Now go back on reg, sweetie. Justin! I’m falling behind back here! I need you!”
Justin balks at the scene that just played out before him. He stomps by Alex before heading into the kitchen.
“I can’t believe you! You stole my chance with Demi! She was totally digging my guitar solo, I could tell ‘cause she was smiling with all of her teeth like this,” Justin’s grin becomes wide and looks quite painful, “See?”
“Ha yeah, sure Justin. She may have “dug” your “tunes” but she wants to hang out with me! I got her number!” Alex unashamedly brags while shoving her palm with the digits on it in Justin’s face.
“Wah-gah-agh-oouughhh, lemme see that Alex!” Justin grinds out.
“Nope! Somebody’s needed in the kitchen, if I recall correctly, and I think I do…” She pulls her hand away quickly then sways on her feet in a taunting way and eyes Justin sneakily.
“Argh! Fine! Whatever, Alex, because she’ll be back and when she is she won’t have any time for you because she’ll be mesmerized by the rock opera I’m composing for her!” He stomps his feet to get his point across.
“Oh and by the way, the fat cheesesteak dude isn’t leaving until you apologize to him. So let’s see how you worm your way outta this one! Ha!” Justin fakes a lunge in Alex’s direction and then purposefully strides into the kitchen to help their father, all the while shooting menacing glances over his shoulder at Alex.
Alex turns her attention to the obese man who is leaning heavily on the counter, his shaggy eyebrows hitched to the ceiling as he smugly awaits Alex’s apology.
Stomping behind the counter she says sassily, “Right, you wanted double cheese? Oops! Here ya go, sorry about the mix up!”
And with that she chucks a load of cheddar and provolone cheese slices at his head. Several slices stick to his body and some fall down into his stained wife-beater as his mouth drops open in disbelief.
“Thank you for stopping by Waverly Sub Station, have a great day!” And before anyone can say anything, Alex storms off to the front doors declaring, “I’M GOING ON BREAK!”
Author: A Collaboration between arkeis07 and initiatesix!!!!!!!!!!
Fandom and Pairing: Wizards of Waverly Place - Real Life; Alex Russo/Demi Lovato
Genre: Drama, crack and silliness.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A normal day at the Waverly Sub Station is punctuated by the not-so-stealthy arrival of Demi Lovato, international music sensation. A tale of friendship, fame, lust, jealousy, and rivalry.
Word Count: ~4300 (holy crap)
Justin's Note: THAT'S RIGHT, SPORTS FANS! Coming at you live from the demi_selena arena is the craziest, wackiest, crackiest collab this side of a Camp Rock/Star Trek crossover. arkeis07 and initiatesix have joined forces to bring you this little gem! Please enjoy!
Alana's Note: micked18 gets an honorable mention here, for suppling me with the name of Demi's hotel, the New York Palace Hotel on Madison Ave. Thanks BB, you set off an obsessive google maps addiction and a chain reaction of plot points in my head that allowed me to finish my story when I was having trouble. XD
Also, please know that the directions given in this fic by Alex are COMPLETELY LEGIT. There is, in fact, a GAY STREET, right off of WAVERLY PLACE in NY. Funny, yeah? We lol'ed.
Our story begins in an ordinary sandwich shop on an ordinary street in the generally ordinary city of New York. To the outside world, the Russo family was a completely normal family, devastatingly nondescript and average in every conceivable way. The Waverly Sub Station was a well known fixture of Waverly Place, a quaint side street where everyone was quite normal and unremarkable, thank-you-very-much.
The eldest son of the Russo family, a strapping lad named Justin, was proud of his family's normal image. He was proud, however, not because he wanted to be normal, or average, or nondescript, but because he knew the truth.
The Russo family had a secret.
Deep within him, as well as his younger brother and sister, ran the blood of Wizards.
He bore this secret with pride, a secret he would not share, even with his true love, Demi, an innocent bystander in a conflict that was broiling deep within the Wizard world, a war Justin found himself painfully involved in.
With an abrupt slam, and an unladylike-like snort, Alex Russo shuts the marble notebook titled “Justin's Journal - Private”.
It's a slow day at the Waverly Sub Station, which is unusual for this time of year. There are a few random customers dotting the main dining area, but not enough to keep them busy. Justin is wiping the empty tables down for a fourth time, while Alex has been occupying herself in the back, reading through her brother's private journal.
She sighs boredly, slipping the journal back into its hiding place and lets her eyes drift over the four or five customers dotting the room.
There's the typical darkly clothed writer sitting in the corner, nursing a cup of coffee that's gone cold long ago while he pores over his notebook. A few tables away is a single mother with twin girls, struggling to get them to just shut up and eat already. Next to her, looking increasingly uncomfortable, sits a regular, a guy who comes in only on days when it's slow due to his debilitating fear of social situations.
And then, far from the rest of the customers, sits a girl who's probably around her own age, hiding rather poorly behind a newspaper that's been opened to it's full size. It's comical to say the least, and Alex can't help but wonder what she's hiding from.
She's about to step out from behind the counter to go and investigate while pretending to take mystery girl's order when a couple of things happen at once: Justin smoothly moves from cleaning mode to waiter mode, suddenly at the girl's table and asking for her order, and at the same time, a mountain of a man sidles up to the counter with a swiftness that seems impossible for someone his size.
“Um, can I help you?” Alex asks, disdain barely hidden in her voice as she surveys the man's slightly stained wife beater and too-tight jean shorts.
“Yea, lemme get a cheesesteak wit' double meats and double cheese, and make it snappy, y'hear?” The man gives his order in a thick Jersey accent while scratching unattractively at his exposed midriff.
Alex diverts her eyes under the pretense of writing down the man's order, but really it's to avoid losing her lunch or at the very least straight up hitting the guy in his jiggly gullet.
“Will that be all, sir?” She asks this with eyes still averted of course.
“Nah, that'll do lady.”
Without even acknowledging the man, she turns and heads into the back to make the guy's sandwich. She throws it together on autopilot, not even checking the slip and instead just putting together a regular cheesesteak.
Justin enters the back just as she finishes, an excited look on his face.
“Alex, you'll never guess who-”
“Yeah, fascinating,” she interrupts him, handing him the plate with the cheesesteak, “Order up for the big guy at table seven.”
“But Alex, seriously, that girl out there is-”
“Order, fat dude, go!”
Justin, his mannerisms reminding her of a little kid with a secret, or at least a really bad need for the toilet, looks torn for a second before he groans and rushes the order out to the front.
Alex just chuckles to herself, and with a muttered, “too easy”, she sits down heavily on one of the stools at the sandwich station and pulls out a small stack of fashion magazines, all with titles like “On The Edge Monthly”, “At The Edge Quarterly”, “Fashion Edge”, “The Edge”, and “Edgy”.
Settling for “Edgy”, she pushes the rest of the stack aside and throws her choice open to a random page.
There, staring straight at her, is the intense gaze of Demi Lovato.
Her face takes up most of the page, which is headlined with “Teen Pop Star To Attend NYC Fashion Week”, but Alex ignores the headline and accompanying mini-article and just keeps right on studying the rocker's face.
Her lips are parted and turned upward in a slight grin, like she's sharing a joke with the reader, and despite how close she is to the camera and the resolution of the picture, her skin is possibly the smoothest Alex has ever seen. She knows that these magazines like to airbrush their models to make them seem more perfect, but Alex likes to hold onto her fantasy that in real life, Miss Lovato is just that perfect all on her own.
She's jolted out of her study of the teen star's magazine-borne face when Justin comes almost-sprinting into the back, his task done.
“Alex, seriously, you'll never guess who's out there in the shop!”
Alex quirks an eyebrow up at him and crosses her arms expectantly.
There's a few seconds of silence.
“...So are you going to tell me who it is?”
“Right!” Justin exclaims, “I just thought you might wanna guess, you know, cause I was all 'you're never going to guess who's out there', and it could have been fun to have a little guessing game, a little back and forth, but if you just want me to tell you-”
“Oh, are we finally getting to that?”
“-Then I'll tell you.” Justin takes a deep breath, and then leans in close conspiratorially. Alex subtly leans away.
“You know that girl at the booth with the newspaper?” His voice is barely a whisper.
Alex nods impatiently.
“Well, I went up to take her order, and she didn't have sunglasses on or anything so I got a good look at her face, and Demi Lovato is totally sitting in our sandwich shop right now.”
It only takes a few seconds of his intense gaze and his excited feet shuffling for Alex to laugh in his face and push him away.
“That's a good one, Justin. And I bet Barney is upstairs dancing on the terrace right now, too?”
“Ha ha, Alex. If you don't believe me, just go out there and see for yourself.”
“No, because I'm not going to bother a random customer because she might vaguely resemble your biggest celebrity crush.”
“Fine,” Justin says, grabbing a glass and filling it with a little ice and a generous amount of Sprite, “I'm going take this soda to Demi, then I'm going to go get my guitar and serenade her with my song ideas until she falls in love with me and takes me on tour with her. Have fun working in the sub shop!”
And with that, he was out the door, soda held out in front of him like it was the nectar of the gods instead of a $1.69 glass of Sprite.
Alex scoffs to herself and turns back to her magazine, but she finds that she suddenly can't concentrate.
'Granted, Justin is easily excitable and all, but what if he's right?'
So a quick peek can't hurt anything, she decides, and grabs her magazine and determinedly heads out to the front. She pretends to be engrossed in an article on the appropriate use of rhinestones, all the while sneaking glances at the girl in the corner booth. Each time, though, the girl's newspaper is firmly in front of her face, and soon Alex gives up the pretense of reading her magazine, leaving it open and forgotten on the counter in front of her as she stares at the girl.
She's staring for awhile, lost in her thoughts for more than a few seconds, and then she suddenly realizes that the girl has dropped her newspaper and is staring right back at her.
Alex has a couple of shocking revelations in that instant: the girl in the corner booth is undoubtedly Demi Lovato, super-famous teen musician and secret obsession/crush for millions of guys and girls, and Alex has just been caught staring at her like a psychopath.
She drops her eyes to her magazine immediately, trying to fight the unexplainable reddening of her cheeks.
“Just pretend to be reading, Alex, she'll look away, you're just a crazy register girl to her,” she mutters to herself.
But she finds she can't follow her own advice, and when she looks back up, Demi is still staring at her, a small challenging smirk on her lips and a quirk to her eyebrow.
It's the challenging look that erases her embarrassment at being caught staring.
Alex closes the fashion magazine she’s been “reading” with a determined look aimed at the beauty’s direction. She takes careful stock of the surroundings looking for her in. She spots it in the form of Demi’s drained soda glass.
Smirking in triumph, she grabs a glass, fills it with soda and starts to head toward the girl, intending to charm her with a heretofore never offered free refill. Three feet from her destination, a crash and the sound of a guitar being banged against the staircase makes Alex turn her head, and just in time, to not-so-gracefully side-step a careening Justin, who takes her place next to Demi on the booth. Justin dramatically strums his guitar and says, “I hope I didn’t keep you, mi amore.” Alex huffs and stalks back to the counter, waiting for the inevitable crash and burn.
Alex can’t hear their conversation from where she’s not sulking, but she can certainly imagine the words coming out of Justin’s mouth, as well as the high pitched girly tone with which he speaks:
“Ohh, Demi, I’ve just written a song for youuu. If you like, I can totally come by your studio and teach it to youuu.”
“Oh, lemme play it for you, my love; ping-bow-wow-ping-ping-ohhhh, my name is Justin and I love to play with toy submarines and build robot friends since I have none in real lifeeeeeeee!!!”
Alex smirks devilishly at her own humor, but cringes when suddenly the “ping-bow-wow-ping-ping” of Justin’s guitar fills the sub shop. Alex thinks maybe she should throw something at Justin to make him stop - according to her dad, anything that loses customers must be stopped immediately - and judging by the scraping of chairs and the bustle towards the doors, Justin is effectively killing business.
Before she can do anything though, the obese ill-mannered customer is back in her face.
“Uh, yea, sowry ‘bout dis lil’ huneh, but I orda’d a DOUBLE on mah cheesesteak. An’ I dunno ‘bout youse, but I see neithers DOUBLE MEAT nor DOUBLE CHEESE hea. Now, how we gunna fix dis lil’ mix up, eh?”
Alex meanwhile, barely registers the thick man with the even thicker Jersey accent and instead struggles to see past his girth.
“Gah, I dunno, take it up with the owner.” She says distractedly as she leans dangerously off of the stool behind the counter.
“Uh, no, dea’s no need for dat. Jus gimme some extra cheese and steak.”
“Look, can’t you see I’m in the middle of something very important? Buzz off, dude!”
“Hey, what I see is a lil’ girl who can’t talk to her eldas right and iz disrespectin me, now settle down and fetch mah orda, EMPLOYEE!!”
“Ugh, move” Alex huffs angrily as she clambers up on top of the counter on her knees and roughly pushes the man’s head out of her way. She sees that Justin is still nervously plucking at his guitar, trying to subtly inch closer to Demi, who is just as subtly inching closer to the edge of the booth.
“Justin!!! Order UP!! Fix this guy’s sandwich will ya?”
“ALEX, I’M IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING,” he shouts back her way through gritted teeth. “... hehe, little sisters, so incompetent. Now where were we?....”
“’A-ight, lil’ girl, dat’s it! I wanna see the OWNA, LIKE, YESTADAY!!!”
“Yeah? Well, he’s um, over in the subway carriage, why don’t you go find him? Yeah, go on, go go!! Don’t wanna lose him, do you?”
The irate customer stalks off toward the back of the shop, and Alex tries again to speed up Justin’s epic!fail.
“JUSTIN! ERIC MCCOURMAK JUST TOLD ME THAT HE DOESN’T THINK YOUR ROBOTS CAN DANCE. SAYS HE’S GONNA WIPE THE FLOOR WITH YOUR ROBO-BUDDIES AND THEN DO THE WORM WITH HIS OWN ROBOT AT THE INVITATIONAL NEXT WEEKEND!!!!!” She practically screams this at him, hoping the tone of her voice sounds urgent to Justin’s ears.
It works.
“WHAT!?!” Justin jumps up from his seat so fast that Demi’s glass of melted ice and left over soda spills down the front of his pants. Alex covers up her mouth with both hands in a vain attempt to keep the cackle that is rising in her throat from escaping, but quickly recovers to add, “Justin! Change your pants and go outside and defend your honor! Go!”
Justin doesn’t even bother to excuse himself from Demi before he hops onto and over the table and races up the metal staircase to his room, his guitar waving dangerously behind him in his tight grasp.
Demi looks visibly relieved, but glances up suddenly and catches Alex off guard. Alex, in a rare moment of clumsiness, lets the glass she’s been gripping tightly slip from her fingers and spill all over the counter in an embarrassing mess.
“WAH! Oh no...” Alex grumbles as she reaches for the nearest towel and starts cleaning up. She’s surprised to say the least when the hem of Demi’s ornate designer shirt enters her line of vision. Her eyes travel slowly upward before coming to a stop at the girl’s flawless face.
“Hi. It’s Alex, right?”
“Oh wow. How-“ Alex looks around suspiciously “-how did you know my name? Did Justin say anything to you? Because, you know, he is such a dweeb, and I‘ve only been hauled off to jail once, and they kept me overnight ONLY because I had lost my school I.D. and -“
“No, no, I just - read your name tag” She pokes at the tag on Alex’s chest and grins like a Cheshire cat. “But I’d love to hear this story about jail...” A fangirlish squeal is heard from outside the shop, and Demi’s grin falls quickly, “…some other time. Listen, is there like, a back exit I can escape through?” she asks in a nervous undertone.
“Uh, yeah, sure, this way.” Alex grows nervous as well as her eyes land on a group of tween girls who suddenly burst into the shop.
“Quick! Hide your face!” Alex shoves her fashion magazine in Demi’s chest and grabs her arm tightly, leading her haphazardly up the rickety stairs into the Russo living room. Alex worries that Justin may drop in at any moment, so she quickly escorts Demi out to the terrace and onto the fire escape.
She goes first down the ladder and urges Demi to follow.
“By the way, my name’s Demi Lo-“
“I know who you are. Do you think I help just anybody escape hordes of screaming fans by taking them through the house and out the fire escape?”
“Well, actually, it seems like you're not used to helping others very often. I saw how angry that customer was…”
“Hey, I work with what I got. You want my help or what?” Alex replies with sass.
“Fine! Sorry!”
“Yeah, you’re lucky you’re cute, because I could have totally let those girls trample you - it would’ve meant more hungry customers for the shop.” Alex remarks.
“Well, thank god for that then. But don’t think you’ve got a free pass just because you’ve rescued me.”
“Girl, I don’t need your free pass to make my move. I’m the smoothest criminal this side of Hell’s Kitchen.” Alex can feel what’s happening. They’re flirting. Dangerously. While fleeing through the rusty and decrepit metal fire escape.
This knowledge doesn’t stop her from placing her hand on Demi’s ass before they descend to the last level of the fire escape.
“Wh-what are you doing?!” Demi hisses indignantly.
“Don’t move and shut it! Look down!” Alex whispers heatedly.
Alex sees Demi’s eyes widen in fear as she spots the tail end of yet another group of young girls as they pass the alleyway.
Both girls let out a loud sigh of relief as the last fangirl disappears around the corner.
“Oh, well, thanks for that” Demi apologizes sheepishly.
“Don’t worry about it. Now come on.”
Alex jumps down skillful from the last rung of the ladder about 6 feet from the ground. She catches Demi as she stumbles from her own fall. Her hands grip tightly around the shirt covering Demi’s back and waist. She lets her hands stay there for just a few seconds to long.
“You okay, princess?” Alex asks cheekily.
“Just fine, prince charming, just fine. Now,” She turns conspiratorially towards Alex, “I need to find my way back to my hotel without getting caught. Care to show the way?”
Alex smirks and links their arms together, but halts suddenly before she even takes a step. Her face falls.
“I… can’t leave work. Dad will kill me.”
“Oh, all right then…” Demi looks down as her voice drops in pitch.
“But! I can probably draw you map that’ll get you back in one piece,” Alex offers.
She pulls out her pen and pad for taking orders and asks, “What’s the hotel, miss teen queen?”
“It’s the New York Palace Hotel on Madison Ave. All the models for Fashion Week are being put up there. It’s the one they use in ‘Gossip Girl!’” She adds excitedly, her voice squeaking subtly. “And by the way, quit it with the nicknames. Call me Demi. We’re friends now, deal with it.” She smirks as she moves closer to watch Alex scribble a map on the small piece of paper.
“Yeah, whatever, I got it. Ok, listen up, you’re gonna go out this back way, then head down past Gay Street here,” she points, ”until you hit 6th Ave. Walk up 2 blocks to the 9th Street Station. From there you gotta catch the F train headed to Jamaica Station. It’s like, 40 blocks after that,” she trails her finger up her hastily drawn map, ”so you get off at Rockefeller Station. Walk down West 48th street in the direction of the traffic, turn up on Madison Ave and in just three blocks, you’re home.”
Alex finally looks up to see that Demi’s eyes are staring at her incredulously.
“What? Too fast for you?”
“Um, do you seriously expect me to be able to make it all the way there? By myself?” Demi puts her hands on her hips and her eyebrows shoot upward.
Alex bites her lip in thought. “You’re right. You would totally get mobbed n’ robbed on the subway. Bad idea.”
Alex grabs Demi’s wrist and starts to lead her down the alleyway.
“Ok, this is what’s gonna happen. I got you all the way down here, it can’t hurt if I walk you up to 6th Ave and hail a cab for you. And I’ll make sure he doesn’t cheat you. I know the cab company - funny story, actually; anyway, they’re good people, but they like to mess with tourists sometimes. “
Demi follows wordlessly behind Alex, gripping her hand tightly, obviously trying to avoid making herself any more noticeable. They make it to 6th Avenue without any trouble, although Alex did have to shoo away a street seller with a powerful death glare.
Standing next to Alex at the curb after Alex gets a cab on the first try, Demi takes Alex’s hand to get her attention.
“I wanna thank you, Alex. This has been quite the adventure.”
“No problem, princ-“ she stops herself, “Demi. Glad to help.” And she means it too.
“So, um, anyway…” she snatches Alex’s pen from her apron pocket and begins to write on Alex’s hand held tightly in her grasp,”… this is my cell. Call me, ok? I’m here for all of Fashion Week.” She grins up at Alex, “ And I’d love to hear more about your funny stories of jail and cab drivers.”
Alex can hardly believe her luck, but keeps her cool. “Yeah, sure. I have school during the week, but I can totally show up late if you wanna grab breakfast tomorrow, or whatever.”
Alex opens the cab door for Demi as the popstar asks skeptically, “Can you really?”
“Oh, yeah. Me and Mr. Laritate are like this,” she raises her hand and crosses her ring and middle finger together tightly.
Demi smirks at Alex as she steps into the cab. “Hmm, I’m not sure I believe you. But I’m free after 3 o’clock tomorrow. If you’re interested.”
“Sweet deal. See you, Demi. And remember to act really interested in that magazine when you get out of the cab, alright?”
“Thanks, I will. Bye Alex. I had a wonderful time with you today.”
And with that, the door closes and the yellow cab shoots off into the hectic bustle of New York City traffic.
“Wow. That sounded like I took her on a date…” Alex muses aloud as she makes her way back to the sub station, and her abandoned shift.
The second she steps through the sub station doors she is bombarded by Justin.
He frantically fires off questions about Demi, where’d she go, is she coming back, did she say anything about him, what’s her hair smell like. But all Alex hears is a very irritating, “blah blah blah Demi, blah blah blah Demi, blah blah, I’m a nerd blah blah.”
She pushes past Justin as her father yells at her from the kitchen about leaving the shop for so long.
“Dad, I was doing you a favor! A customer ran outta here without paying, so I caught him and took his cash!” The lie slips easily from her lips.
“Wah, guh, hey, ooh, Alex! That’s no excuse for leaving your brother to fend- …how much did he owe? You got it all, right?” his voice turning hopeful at the end of the sentence.
“Yes, dad. All of it. And tips!”
“That’s my girl! Now go back on reg, sweetie. Justin! I’m falling behind back here! I need you!”
Justin balks at the scene that just played out before him. He stomps by Alex before heading into the kitchen.
“I can’t believe you! You stole my chance with Demi! She was totally digging my guitar solo, I could tell ‘cause she was smiling with all of her teeth like this,” Justin’s grin becomes wide and looks quite painful, “See?”
“Ha yeah, sure Justin. She may have “dug” your “tunes” but she wants to hang out with me! I got her number!” Alex unashamedly brags while shoving her palm with the digits on it in Justin’s face.
“Wah-gah-agh-oouughhh, lemme see that Alex!” Justin grinds out.
“Nope! Somebody’s needed in the kitchen, if I recall correctly, and I think I do…” She pulls her hand away quickly then sways on her feet in a taunting way and eyes Justin sneakily.
“Argh! Fine! Whatever, Alex, because she’ll be back and when she is she won’t have any time for you because she’ll be mesmerized by the rock opera I’m composing for her!” He stomps his feet to get his point across.
“Oh and by the way, the fat cheesesteak dude isn’t leaving until you apologize to him. So let’s see how you worm your way outta this one! Ha!” Justin fakes a lunge in Alex’s direction and then purposefully strides into the kitchen to help their father, all the while shooting menacing glances over his shoulder at Alex.
Alex turns her attention to the obese man who is leaning heavily on the counter, his shaggy eyebrows hitched to the ceiling as he smugly awaits Alex’s apology.
Stomping behind the counter she says sassily, “Right, you wanted double cheese? Oops! Here ya go, sorry about the mix up!”
And with that she chucks a load of cheddar and provolone cheese slices at his head. Several slices stick to his body and some fall down into his stained wife-beater as his mouth drops open in disbelief.
“Thank you for stopping by Waverly Sub Station, have a great day!” And before anyone can say anything, Alex storms off to the front doors declaring, “I’M GOING ON BREAK!”