When the Cameras Are Off | A Jaspar Fanfiction

~CHAPTER ONE~

JOE'S POV

I heard the opening to some ridiculous pop song, that probably every one here knew except me, begin to blast from the large, expensive looking speakers dotted around the room in bizarre positions. Where the hell where my friends? Probably all with some whores that they'd stay with for tonight, and tonight only, even though most of them already had girlfriends.

Come out with the boys, they said, it'll be fun, they said. Oh, yeah, because sitting next to a table full of bowls of strong alchohol and contemplating drinking all of them is really fun. Why did they suggest this? I usually love going to clubs with the lads, but this wasn't going to a club with the lads. This was being here, by myself, like some total loner.

Suddenly, it hit me. Alright, there are bowls of delicious looking alchohol here. The boys would have obviously had some. So, where would they be if they were drunk? The dancefloor of course.

Standing up from my seat, I suddenly felt extremely dizzy. Come on, Joe, I told myself, just find them, tell them you're going home, and leave. Five minutes. That's all it's gonna take.

I took another step and suddenly felt like i was trying to walk a tightrope, blindfolded. God, who knew walking was so hard?

To be fair, I hadn't even had a drop of alchohol. I think maybe it was the small club, loud music and large crowds. Why, oh why, did we pick this place, of all places?

There were many of us here, but whose name did I shout first? No brainer.

"CASPAR!" I yelled. No use. My voice was croaky and sore, and the song playing had just reached he chorus, meaning it was at it's loudest. There was no way the person beside me could hear what I was saying, nevermind any of my friends all the way on the dancefloor.

I stumbled over there, following the flashing lights and biggest crowds. Where the hell is he? THEY! I mean 'where are they.'

I was keeping an eye out for Troye, Alfie, Ollie, Jim and Marcus - but I looked much harder for that tall, scruffy haired roommate of mine.

Then I saw him.

It was what I expected to see on the dancefloor, of course, but having it happen right infront of my very eyes? That's what made it hurt. That's what made it kill me in the inside. That's what made me want to just run away back to the flat and leave him there... grinding with some brown haired, five foot twat on the dancefloor.

Her hands were tracing his back and her eyes were staring at his - though his were closed. But the worst part? I couldn't even smell any achohol on him. He was sober and... and this girl was... pretty.

I knew that I had to leave before I threw up all over the grinding couple, letting out steam on the dancefloor, but I couldn't leave them there, knowing that he'd probably take her back to our flat and I'd have to try and sleep, hearing noises.

This happened every single week, but I've never seen him so into it before.

Taking a couple of steps forward, I finally reached Caspar, and stood on my tiptoes to tap his shoulder.

He turned to face me, an angry look taking over any other expression he may have had earlier. I had disturbed him and he was completely pissed off at me. I wanted to smile as I noticed that he had stopped dancing to face me, and the girl walked away, off to find some other guy to dance with. I'd ruined it for him this week, but I didn't want this. I wanted him. I wanted to lean in and...

"What?" He groaned at me, "Why have you done this?"

"Caspar, can you tell the others that I'm leaving? I don't feel too good."