You're Different (a Greyson Chance and Cody Simpson Fanfiction)

Chapter 11

Authors Note Thingy

So hey. Ya know on the create app where you put the text it says 'Your Masterpiece Here' well I just noticed it and my reaction was 'Oh stop it you!' I did the whole meme face and everything. Yeah I'm strange...

I promised myself I'd update once I got at least 300 reads on this story and I come home and start chillin like a slightly awkward villain named Dillan and see I got 312 reads. So thanks. This one is dedicated to my mom because she helped me bake brownies for the Robotics bake sale today. Story of that will be in my rant down below.

On with the crapter!

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"Why are cameramen following you around?" I question, looking back at them. "I'm gonna have a YouTube series about my time on tour" he shrugs, flicking his hair to one side. "Well I don't wanna be in it" I warn him, loud enough for the cameramen to hear as I pull my beanie down further, slipping on my glow in the dark sunglasses too. I glare at them before they stop rolling the camera, one of the men holding his hands up in defeat.

I smirk smugly and skip through the airport, looking for a place to get coffee when I finally find one. I take off for it, not bothering to ask what Greyson wants because I know what he likes. I walk up to the counter, smiling at the raven headed boy in front of me, his eyes being the unusual green I've always wished I had. He's clearly of Asian decent and had an accent. Reading his name tag I find his name is Kevin. Okay... Wonder why they named him that... "I was born in the U. S." he explains, seeing my confusion. "So was I" I tell him, mentally facepalming since it must've been obvious with my American accent. "Don't look now, but a dude's glaring at me" he told me, observing from behind me. "Brown hair and eyes?" "Yup" "Bullet necklace and converse?" "Uh- huh" "Greyson..." I mutter looking up at him.

"Whelp, I'm guessin' you not exactly on good terms with 'Greyson'" he said peering behind me "And neither am I" "Oh sorry... You probably don't wanna talk to a stranger. What can I get you?" he asked, the thought crossing his head.

"Actually, you can't make friends if ya don't talk to strangers" I say before ordering our coffees and a cookie for myself 'cause I wanted one. I took the tray, bag and receipt and smiled before walking off, glancing back at him once or twice. "Here" I say, forcefully shoving the coffee in Greyson's greedy hands. "Thanks" he acknowledges, nodding before taking a long sip.

I glance at the receipt and see this: "Hey I just met you, and this is crazy, but I hate that song, but text me anyways? :) -Kevin" followed by his phone number. I smile and shove the receipt in my pocket. Yay! Finally met someone who can't stand that annoying pop song as much as me!

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"HEY I JUST MET YOU, AND THIS IS CRAZZZZZY! BUT HERES MA NUM-" "NO!" I shout over Greyson, who was belting out the lyrics as loudly as possible. "Someones at that time of month" I hear him mumble sarcastically, not realizing I could hear it. Apparently, so could Lisa, cause he got a smack upside the head. Thank you Aunt Lisa!! "I was kidding" he pouts like a little kid, folding his arms against his chest.

We arrive at the hotel, me flinging the door of the car open without a thought in the world. Big mistake. I'm greeted by a bunch of European girls, screaming Greyson's names, along with some very inappropriate things they want to do with him. The girls, bright lights, and flashes surround me as Greyson tries to pull me through the crowd. Amongst the murmurs I hear:

"Who's she?"

"Do ya think that's his girlfriend!"

"Hey ginger! Ever heard of a hairbrush?!"