Colour Me In

Dream a Little Dream

Hello! ^__^ nice to see ya *tips hat*

This is just a sneak peek at a KickThePJ fan fiction that I have in the works. I thought I'd go on and give it to you to make up for missing two weeks of updates. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, hi, welcome to the verse. Check out my other works? Okay, end self promo.)

First things first, I'd like to commend my dear friend @TakenByTheAngels for the absolutely gorgeous cover art! She's not just good at graphic design, she writes lovely stories as well, so go look at her profile, really! There might even be something there from the both of us sometime in the future... *zips lips* In all seriousness, she's awesome. I owe her a way better thank-you than a lame dedication. *snaps fingers and points* You're the best, Taken.

Secondly, I'd like to point out that this is an extremely advanced preview of this fic. More installations will not be headed your way for a good long while as I've got a lot of other projects I need to finish up first, and those take precedence! Keep that in mind as you read, and note that any 'OMG update!!1!' commenters will remain unfulfilled for the time being and may or may not receive a snarky reply, depending on my mood.

Thirdly, the video I've linked with this chapter is a cover of this song that I thought was pretty cool. My favourite versions are (if you feel like doing a little youtubing [what am I talking about, we all always feel like doing a little youtubing]) by Mama Cass Elliot, who sung the version you've probably heard, and the duet by Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald. For the purposes of this chapter, the song is sung closer to how Mama Cass does it.

You're probably proper weary of my waffling. I hope you enjoy this special preview! Now, without further ado, I present:

Colour Me In

virtues

•••

"Seriously, man, this place is amazing. Just wait until you listen to this guy play sax. And everything they serve comes straight from a little farm down by the coast..."

I grunted in response, only halfway listening to Jamie speak. At the moment I was finding the daydream playing out in my head much more engaging than the oral essay my friend was delivering on whatever hipster dive he'd stumbled upon on his last solo trip into London. After all, so far Jamie's story had a lot less alien creatures and time travel than my story did. Based on my own personal scale for ranking attention-worthy tales, that alone put my daydream over his endless ramble.

I'm usually pretty good at disguising my head-in-the-clouds look (lots of practice from dull school lecture days), but, unfortunately for me, my friends have become equally proficient in noticing when I'm not listening to them talk. That day I was off and Jamie was on point. I'd barely drifted off, blocking his words out completely, before he snapped his fingers in front of my eyes.

"Earth to PJ, come in PJ," he teased, putting his hand back on the wheel of the van. "Tiny planet explorer, you are clear to land."

"Sorry," I apologised sheepishly. I rubbed my eyelids with the finger and thumb of my left hand. We'd been wickedly busy the past week with shoots for my next short film. Jamie had caught me sleeping with my eyes open and forced me to take the rest of the night off to do something entirely unrelated to anything having to do with film. Hence the ten-o'clock pm #LADS excursion to a vague little café in a slightly dumpy neighbourhood of London.

Jamie shook his head with a knowing grin. "You were thinking about the shoot, weren't you?"

I sighed reluctantly and he waved a reprimanding finger in my direction. My friends knew me far too well for my own good.