What The Rolling Stone Doesn't Know

2008-02-09T00:09:38Z

Summary: A side-story to “Well That’s The Road That Got Us Here”. Zac ponders the last interview he had while filming “Hairspray”. [Zikki with not so much Zanessa]

Disclaimer: I’d love to own him, but I do not. I do, however, own the August 2007 Rolling Stone issue with him on the cover.

A/n: Without further ado… a rather special one-shot. :D

I throw my keys onto the bedside table before flopping onto the soft hotel bed with a tired sigh. We just had to redo part of the “You Can’t Stop The Beat” sequence earlier, and it was so, so immensely exhausting. The up side was, however, is that I got to spend all day dancing and singing with my girl Nikki. I smile as I think of her, my heart warming at the very thought. That girl really was magic. I’m so glad they found her for this film. Flinging my arm over my eyes, I’m suddenly bombarded with the memory of the last very awkward interview I had… with The Rolling Stone magazine. God, I’m so unsure of myself with these kinds of things… I probably said a lot of things that I shouldn’t have…

I bite my lip; there was the Vanessa thing that sticks out the most prominently and sharply in my mind, “The weird thing that no one expected about Vanessa is that underneath such a sweet girl – is a very, very sexy woman. I don’t think anyone was prepared for that. So that’s just a humorous thing.” What in the name of all that is holy was I thinking…?! I groan, my hormones probably had gotten a hold of my mouth again and that word vomit is now going to be in print for the rest of time. We have a good time together, yes, but that’s not something the rest of the world needed to know.

Damn it, there goes my attempt at professionalism and keeping my private life to myself.

I do still stick with what I said about High School Musical and recording a solo album, though. If I were really to record anything, I’d want it to be a work of substance, a work of an artist, not something disposable and manufactured. I shake my head; both Vanessa and Ashley had pounced on the idea of having a recording contract. I scoff slightly; trust fame to not go to the head. Hollywood Records must be very proud of themselves. I swear, Vanessa may be all woman in some more obvious aspects, but a complete child in the next instant, snapping up that contract like a new toy.

It wasn’t that I’m not grateful for everything that High School Musical has done for me. On the contrary, I probably owe Disney a lot for the big break. But that doesn’t mean that I’d let them have my career in a vice, either. No way, I am in this to act. And sure, sing and dance on the side. But I do it because I care about what I do and how it affects others. I don’t want to just be the face on little girls’ walls or the source of so much media pandemonium; I want to be known for doing great film work. I don’t want my career to be wholly owed to the way I look, as flattering as that may be.

I’m not fucking Matthew McConaughey.

I sigh again, kind of wistful. I look on my right hand, and there it was, glinting mockingly at me. Sometimes I am really tempted to just take it off, it’d be like being free from all kinds of commitment for a while. I remove it and study it. It’s circular form sliding about between my fingers easily. I truly don’t know what I was thinking when I got them with Vanessa. I guess I really did feel something strong for her, what with the Hawaiian word for “sweetheart” engraved on the inside of the ring.

My thoughts float carelessly to Nikki again. Another lazy smile grows on my face. I really don’t know what’s going on between us. We flirt, we hug, we hold hands and sometimes we kiss and go on ‘dates’ but we don’t talk about it. I shake my head, no need to ruin something so inexplicably perfect with outside interruptions. I’m happy living in this Hairspray bubble, with her and Elijah and Amanda and everybody else and wish it would never end.

I’ll deal when the bubble pops.

I groan slightly and kind of glare at the ring again. “Commitment” really was a weird word for me right now, but not for the reasons that others would think upon reading that Rolling Stone article. The thing is that I really think that I still care for Vanessa on some level… but not enough to stop doing whatever it is I’m doing with Nikki.

With Nikki, everything feels effortless and flowing. Nothing is ever put on and we both had become so close over the last few months that it’s so hard to imagine that we won’t be together as much after Hairspray wraps in a couple more weeks. That actually bugs me more than I thought it ever could. Who would be there to read my mind when I’m staring blankly into space? Who would be there to suddenly giggle when I’m overthinking something? Who would be there to give me hugs wholeheartedly without reservation or request? Who would I talk to at 5am over the hotel phone despite our rooms being across one another?

… Not Vanessa, that sure as hell is for sure.

During High School Musical I truly felt a part of something big and awesome. Bonds had been made and kept and I don’t think I’d ever want to forget that experience… but with Hairspray…

We’re family.

“A big, happy Hairspray family!” Nikki had said once, when we were out with Elijah, Amanda and Brittany. That was one of the best nights off set ever, and I had felt such a strong surge of affection for Nikki that I truly didn’t think it was possible. I had taken her hand that night and intertwined her fingers with mine. She had looked at me, curious as to why I did that so spontaneously and without the usual bout of laughter. I had simply gazed at her, and she smiled. She knew what I meant.

I then looked to the others, who were all sharing knowing looks and smiles. My lips twitch upwards again; I was going to miss them all so much…

Suddenly, my thoughts are interrupted by my cell vibrating in my pocket, signaling an incoming text message. “Hey baby wht ru doing? Is filming done 4 the day? Miss u lots! xoxox V”. My brow twitches slightly with an unexplainable agitation before I ponder even replying to it. Just before I open the reply window, a knock sounds on my door.

I put the phone back in my pocket before I get out of bed leisurely to answer the door.

There stood my beautiful Nikki, a wide, radiant smile on her face in the most adorable pajamas with a Grease DVD in her hands. I laugh and usher her in. She gives me a once-over and tutted disapprovingly. “Zac, Zac, Zac… Why have you not taken a shower yet? I really want to watch Grease again so go, and hurry it up!”

I look down at myself, in one of my rattier thrift store t-shirts paired ironically with a pair of designer jeans. I grin at her mischievously. Her Bambi eyes widen and before she could react, I wrap her up in a huge, damp-ish hug. She struggles and squeals and I release her. She glares playfully at me and huffs, “You are so gross. I might not even feel like watching this awesome movie with you now.”

I laugh again as she walks towards the door and before she could reach for the knob, I take her by the hand and spin her around. Before she could say a word, I lean down and plant a whisper of a kiss on her pouted lips. “Don’t go, I’ll go clean up for you now, ok?” The promise comes out a husky whisper.

Those Bambi eyes again stare up at me adorably. “Okay,” she replies just as softly.

I kiss her again and go into the bathroom. Once in, I look at my phone again. I delete the message and put it down, getting ready for a shower.

I’ll reply that message another day.

End.

A/n: There we go. Ooh, my first specially for Zikki Shrine. :D

shmackz

What The Rolling Stone Doesn't Know