She'll Fall in Love With You

I Wish I Had A Claim To Fame

Pierre’s POV
I watched Emma-Lee leave and I really didn't want her too. She was such a fun person to be around and damn, what a great kisser. I don't really know where that last kiss came from either. I just remembered not wanting her to leave, and the next thing I knew I was kissing her. I couldn't wait for the ball. This was going be a great night. I was nervous as all hell though. I never really get dressed up, so it was going to be an adventure trying to get everything on right.

Emma-Lee’s POV
As I slipped my room key into its slot, I was trying to imagine a day in my life that had been better than this one, and it was proving to be a difficult task. I smiled to myself as I thought about the sweet things Pierre had said throughout the day. I was really starting to like this guy, but at the same time I was trying to guard myself. It woul be, (and had been) so easy to fall for him. But how could I be positive that Pierre didn’t do this in every city? Meet a girl, woo her, sleep with her, then drop her cold. I cringed at the notion, and then thought of Katie. She had been dating Chuck for awhile; she had to know some stuff about Pierre. I decided I would find time at the ball to talk to her about it. Pierre seemed like an honest enough person, but how can you trust a rock star?

I hummed ‘Meet You There’ to myself as I gathered my makeup and outfit and took them to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and let it warm up while I slipped off my clothes and let my hair down. As I got in the shower and felt the hot water cascading down, all my thoughts left my head. It had been a fun day, but a tiring one.

I finished putting on my eyeliner a mascara and stood back to examine myself in the mirror.

“Not too shabby.” I thought out loud.

Just then I heard a knock on the door I was in a full body slip, so I didn’t care about Pierre seeing me; It covered more than a bathing suit would.

“Just a second!” I shouted form the bathroom.

I ran to the door and opened it. Pierre stood nervous-looking with his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks. He was wearing a classic black tux. The man looked gorgeous. I swallowed and I could feel the color rising into my cheeks. I had a weakness for guys that dressed up nicely. And Pierre did exactly that.

“Sorry, come on in. I’m almost ready.”

“Okay.” He walked over to the couch and sat down.

I walked back into the bathroom and with minimal difficulty got my shoes and dress on. I touched up my hair and makeup and took one last look in the mirror before I walked out. I really had pulled everything together. Normally it was a disaster when I tried to dress up.

“Ready!” I called.

I quickly walked out of the bathroom and into the living room area of the suite. Pierre had gotten off of the couch and was standing by the big window gazing out at the city, which was starting to light up. He turned around and as he looked at me I did a little twirl.

“So whadda ya think?”

“Wow,” was all he managed to get out.

He looked very nervous. Basically he looked the way I felt, but being a girl, I managed to hide it well.

“That was a good ‘wow’ right? I asked coyly.

Air escaped his mouth in a huff of amazement as he tried to think of something to say.

“Yeah. Definitely. I just have one question.”


“Where are your evil step-sisters?” he smiled weakly.

“I don’t know. Where’s your big white steed?”

He chuckled. “Okay Cinderella, let’s get out of here.” He said taking my arm.

I was quiet on our way down to the ballroom. Mostly because of nerves. When we were in the elevator he gave me more details about the ball. Like how we had to be officially introduced, and that Simple Plan was going to present an award to one of their fellow label mates.

‘Good.’ I thought. ‘That will give me time to talk to Katie.’

As we walked up to the conference room that had been transformed into something from a fairy tale in a few short hours, a snooty looking little man approached us.

“Mr. Bouvier, Miss Morrison; you will be seated at table number three.” And he motioned to a table near the makeshift stage.

“Thank you.” I murmured.

“Thanks.” Pierre said offhandedly. He turned to me. “Morrison, huh?”

“Yep.” I cringed inside, somehow knowing what was coming next.

“That’s such a musical last name. Think about it…Van Morrison, Jim Morrison. That would be so cool if you were related to one of them.”

I gulped. Here it comes.

“Yeah, well uh…” I paused. ‘Just get it over with!’ I scolded myself inwardly. “Jim Morrison.”

“Wait, what? Are you kidding?”

“Nope. He was my great uncle. Of course I never met him, but he is family.” I said shrugging. It had been surprisingly easy telling Pierre. Probably because he wasn’t exactly a nobody himself.

“Wow. That is really cool.” Pierre said excitedly.

“I guess. All of his money went to his partner, Pamela and her family so we don’t really have to deal with anything, and since I never met him it’s kind of surreal.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But you have a claim to fame! I wish I had a claim to fame” he pouted jokingly as he pulled out the chair for me. Apparently we were the first of the group to arrive.

“You meant that as a joke right?” I said raising my eyebrows at him.

“Well, not at first, but it was kind of stupid so yeah. It was a joke.” He laughed at himself.

I found myself thinking about how endearing it was that he didn't take himself too seriously, or try to live up to some sort of celebrity image. At least, not in the time I had been around him. He had been so genuine and sincere last night, and here I was spending the majority of the day with him as if her were just another guy. But he wasn't. He was Pierre Bouvier, and right now, tonight, he was my Pierre.
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I re wrote the end a little bit. I am trying to update it and not make it seems QUITE so teenie. But at the same time, I don't want to lose the fangirly wonderfulness that I originally had when I wrote this.

Let me know your thoughts, and thanks for reading!