In This Starless City

Our plane had been in the air for a little over two hours and Jack and I had been talking practically nonstop since takeoff. Our conversations had ranged through a random variety of topics.

It started out with him commenting on my outfit—baggy grey sweat pants, an orange shirt, and a grey and black striped hoodie. He claimed that I looked like a character straight out of a Halloween movie to which I replied with a snide remark on his skunk hair. From there, we discussed hair styles and how some should just never be allowed to see the light of day. Then we got into sleeping habits which led to drinking habits which led to dancing which led to both of us being in hysterics.

I subconsciously wondered if the people surrounding us in the aircraft were growing wary of our obnoxious and incessant laughter, but the thought of pissing a bunch of old geezers off only made me laugh harder and I decided that I didn't give a flying fuck.

Our laughter died away slowly and finally, we were both just sitting there, trying to regulate our breathing pattern while still involuntarily breaking into fits of giggles. Then, Jack spoke, his voice breathy. "Okay, I have to admit the only reason I'm even talking to you is because I think your accent is sexy."

I smiled bashfully before raising an open palm and pretending to write on it with an imaginary pen. "Trophy for most random statement goes to Jack Barakat," I said as I pretended to scribble on my hand.

Jack's smile widened as my voice flowed out of my throat. "Say something else. Please?" He whined.

I rolled my eyes. "Something else," A snide grin formed on my lips.

That's when Jack leaned back slightly so he could look me over in my entirety. His eyes roamed and I felt my cheeks get warmer, so I looked away quickly, trying to hide my discomfiture. "So, what are you going to LA for?" Jack asks conversationally. "Boyfriend?"

I thought I caught an underlying tone of guile in his voice, but when I looked up at him, his expression looked solely innocent. Some unknown instinct to be tactful with my response came to life within me, however, and I found myself suddenly avoiding Jack's gaze determinedly.

"No," I reply carefully, my eyes flicking upward just enough to see that Jack's facial expression hadn't changed at all. He looked like he was expecting more of an answer yet. "I'm going for a meeting, of sorts."

He nodded, accepting this as a good enough answer, but before I could ask him his reasons for going to LA, he was reaching into the backpack that sat at his feet and pulled out his laptop.

"Sorry," he says jokingly. "Twitter owns my soul. If I don't send out a tweet at least once an hour, the whole world and their sister will think I'm dying in a ditch somewhere."

I shook my head, clicking my tongue with faux disappointed, before I, too, took out my laptop. Though instead of logging onto Twitter, I signed into Facebook.

"Facebook is for losers," Jack muses quietly next to me, his fingers typing away madly at his keyboard.

"Twitter is for posers," I reply, grinning evilly when Jack gaped at me.

"Fine," he says snootily. "I won't write a tweet about my new friend with the hot accent." Crossing his arms over his chest, Jack hunched his shoulders slightly and stuck his nose in the air. He looked the spitting image of a fifth grader.

I shrugged a shoulder. "Very well," I murmur before looking at him maliciously. "I won't say anything verbally for the rest of this plane ride and I won't mention anything in my status about an adorable, albeit annoying, guitarist."

Check and mate.

Jack's impish position melted into one of unfair desperation, but I only smirked at him.

"That's not fair at all!" he says loudly, causing many people to look our way. I laughed as he began to deliberate intensely, his hand on his chin and his eyes staring blankly at his computer screen.

"Don't think too hard, Jack. I don't want you straining yourself." I smile guiltlessly when he looked at me.

"You're mean and conniving and you don't fight fair," he states matter-of-factly, "but if it will keep you from boxing in that beautiful accent of yours, then I guess I can tweet about you."

My lips curled into a victorious smile and I turned my attention back to my Facebook page, mainly on my status.

I thought for a moment before deciding on what I wanted to write.

Charlotte Connery is currently sitting on an incredibly claustrophobic flight with one of the most obnoxious boys she's ever met, but he's got a nice smile.

I smiled as I finalized my status and as I let out a yawn, I turned my computer screen to how Jack.

His eyes scanned my status and a smug little smile appeared on his face before he turned back to his computer screen, still thinking about what it was that he wanted to say in his tweet.

I put my hood up and tilted my head back on the headrest of my seat, my eyes halfway shut already. I blinked as Jack's fingers began to type fiercely at the blank space on his webpage, words forming one letter at a time.

JackAllTimeLow: I now have a new liking for cute girls with English accents and sleepy eyes.

I smiled as I read his tweet from over his shoulder, my eyelids getting heavier and heavier as the seconds passed. Without taking my eyes off of Jack's webpage, I reached over and clicked my laptop shut, my eyelids sliding closed.

But then, just before I was asleep, I felt Jack move beside me. My eyes flashed open to see Jack leaning forward, one of his arms reached halfway across my lap. My eyes twitched from his arm to his face and back twice until I looked at him confusedly.

He smiled innocuously before moving his arm farther, raising it slowly until it was right beside my head. "Relax Charlotte," he says softly as his hand connected gently with the side of my face. The smell of his cologne rushed over me and I felt my stomach writhe with a myriad of excited emotions. He put light pressure on the side of my head, pushing it toward his shoulder until my temple touched it.

His hand disappeared from my touch and I looked sideways to see him reaching across me again to pull down the shade on the window.

I smiled to myself as my eyelids slid closed again, and before I fell asleep, I felt Jack lean his head on mine.

><><><><

Given my current situation—where I was sleeping and whose shoulder I was using as a pillow—I was certainly surprised that I fell into such a deep slumber.

But plane buckled underneath me and the roar of air slamming against metal wing brakes flooded into my ears. Then, I heard several things happen at once.

The first and foremost thing to hit me was that Jack was no longer leaning his head on mine. Then, I heard several people laugh, following footsteps and movement in the seats surrounding me.

Groaning and running a hand over my closed eyes, I forced myself to separate my temple from Jack's shoulder and sit up straight, opening my eyes slowly. I yawned and blinked a few times, trying to get my contacts to adjust correctly, and finally I could see several sets of curious eyes on me.

"What?" I ask obliviously, combing a hand through my hair and disheveling it slightly. When no one responded t me, I gave a mental shrug and turned to the shade on the window. I pushed it up quickly only to immediately and regretfully slam it down again, my retinas were burning and my eyes were watering slightly. "Thanks for telling me that we're in California, ass hats." I said before whimpering slightly as my eyes continued to gloss.

A low whistle sounded from in front of me. "Is she always like this after she wakes up?" someone asks, sounding amused.

A laugh that I distinguished as Nathan's hummed momentarily. "Only when she's hung over or if she was in a really deep sleep,"

I heard shuffled movement again and then…

"Charlotte! Are you hung over?" someone shouted right next to my head and I flinched away, instinctively swatting with my hand and connecting with someone's face with a nice slapping sound. "Ow." Someone grumbled.

I looked up to see Alex Gaskarth massaging his cheek delicately while at the same time smirking down at me from beside Brandon in the seat in front of mine. Evidently, the snoring man got tired of the malarkey back here and decided to trade seats with someone.

My eyes narrowed and I looked around at my bandmates. "Alright, who told this tool my name?"

My bandmates all smiled maniacally before pointing at Jack, who grinned guiltily, and I shoved his shoulder in reply.

"Traitor," I murmured, glaring and he gave me a cheeky grin as I raised my arms above my head and stretched. My back arched outward slightly, resulting in several nauseating pops to emit from my spine. I relaxed into my seat once again, pulling my shirt and hoodie down over the hem of my sweats. "Don't you dare say anything, Gaskarth."

He gaped. "I wasn't going to!" he exclaimed, offended, but his appalled expression melted into a seductive grin. "Unless you want me to."

"No, I don't." I say bluntly before raising the shade once again and casting bright California sunlight into the singer's eyes. He hissed and lowered in the chair as I smiled victoriously and the numerous boys around me laughed as well.

The plane taxied to the gate and the cabin lights clicked on. Everyone in the air craft wasted no time in unbuckling their seat belts and reaching into the overhead compartments to retrieve their various luggages. I slid my laptop back into my backpack and I noticed Jack do the same thing before standing and reaching behind to get his guitar. I stood slowly, carefully not to hit my head on the panel overhead. Oliver handed me my bass and I smiled, thanking him quietly.

Being the gentlemen that my company was, I was allowed to begin walking down the aisle toward the exit first. When I set foot on the threshold of the onramp, I waited for my bandmates to catch up with me.

A pang struck through my chest at the sight of my friends talking and laughing with the boys of All Time Low. It was sad to think that the chances of us hanging out together like we had on this flight were slim to none.

The seven boys stepped off of the plane and they each smiled at me, and though I tried to return the gesture, I had a feeling it came out as more of a wince. So, I slowed my walking pace until I fell into step behind the group and I kept my eyes on my shoes and the floor that passed under my feet, thoughts rushing through my head.

I had been walking quite some time when I realized that I wasn't alone anymore. I looked up to see Rian Dawson smiling down at him, his lustrous white teeth begging for my attention, but I forced myself to look into his eyes. They were glimmering too.

"Hey," he says in a friendly voice. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself on the plane since Alex is an attention whore." I couldn't help but laugh at the affront towards the cocky lead singer and this caused Rian to smile wider. "I'm Rian Dawson."

I nodded as my laughs died away. "I'm Charlotte," I reached out a hand. "It's nice to meet you, Rian."

"That's a neat accent," he says, pausing when I nodded and thanked him. He was about to say something but a shout from ahead of us cut him off.

"Rian, come here for a second!" Zack called, waving a hand.

Rian smiled at me again before bidding me adieu and jogging to catch up with his friend, leaving me with my thoughts once more. Rian caught up with Zack and Zack whispered something in his ear, causing Rian to smile broadly. Then, to my surprise, they both turned around and looked at me at the same time. Casting them a confused look, I saw Rian shake his head and mouth 'nothing' before turning to face forward again. I rolled my eyes and looked down at my shoes, smiling slightly to myself.

My company and I finally got to the luggage carousel where we all waited patiently for our things. The bass hanging in my hand was burning my fingertips; I wanted nothing more than to put it out of its case and play it.

We all got our luggage off the carousel and we made our way to the exit together, Jack, Rian, Zack, Alex, and my friends and I. We walked out of the airport and were welcomed with the warm, but crisp, California air.

Then, someone bumped into me. "Welcome to Californ-i-a! I take it you've never seen the west coast before." Jack says a knowing look in his eyes.

I shrugged. "Not the west coast of this continent," I say as the eight of us stopped by the curb. "Is it that obvious?"

He shrugged. "Just a lucky assumption,"

"Well, where are you guys headed?" Alex asks Oliver and Nathan. They looked at each other and then at me. Of course they didn't know where we were headed from here.

"We're going to our hotel, Lost Boys." I say to Oliver, Nathan, and Brandon, who all nodded and looked at Alex.

"Well, if you all get bored at your hotel, you should ask mommy if you can come out and play with us." Alex cast me a sardonic grin and I narrowed my eyes at him. "We're going out to this club downtown tonight after a meeting."

Oliver looked at me despairingly. "Oh mommy, can we? Please?" he whines in a high pitched voice, grasping two of my fingers and tugging on them.

Ripping my fingers out of his clutch, I looked at the seven boys. "You guys can do whatever you want," I say, grabbing my luggage and hailing a cab that was speeding our way. "If you want to go out and get shit faced tonight, be my guest, but I won't be joining you."

"You say that now," Gaskarth remarks quietly to Zack, Rian, and Jack, who all snickered.

The cab stopped in front of us and nodded the guys toward it and then picked up their luggage and began piling it into the trunk of the vehicle. I had just put my luggage there when another cab stopped right behind me, just barely pinning me between the two bumpers of the cars.

Jack stood on the curb, smirking down at me. "You're cute when you're all up on your high horse," he states as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I slammed the trunk closed and looked at him. "You're cute when you're not calling me cute," I say, crossing my arms.

"If we're going to be friends, you're going to have to get used to me saying nice and uncalled for things about you," he stepped down from the curb. "Also," he stepped toward me. "If we're going to be friends, you're going to have to give me your phone number."

"Can we make a trade out of it?" I inquire and Jack nodded. "I would like your number in return."

"Deal," he says, whipping out his phone and quickly taking a picture of me before I could object. I gaped at him. "I knew I'd get that reaction plus a punch in shoulder if I asked for a picture."

"You're such a pain," I say as I held up my phone for a picture of him. He puckered his lips and blew a kiss toward me and I laughed when I snapped the picture. "But I guess I like you."

We handed our phones to each other and exchanged our numbers. Smiling, I looked at him as he handed me my phone back. "Now you're subject to random and sometimes obscenely inappropriate picture messages." He says with a wild grin.

"I'll keep that in mind," I gave him a quick hug. "I'll see you later kid." I say and then I get in the cab with my boys. They were all smiling idiotically at me. "What?"

"You like him," Brandon accuses, lacing his hands together and placing them beside his face, making kissy faces at me. I crossed my arms and gave him a sobering look.

"You're grounded for the night and you can kiss your allowance goodbye." I say and he rolled his eyes while Oliver and Nathan laughed and our cab zoomed off toward downtown.