Typical Jerk (A Bruno Mars Fanfic)

THREE

*Bruno's POV*

I have to admit, I feel extremely guilty about how I reacted to Phil's lecture. He was a great friend and he meant well by what he said. He did help me, too. I decided to call him and apologize.

Ring. Ring.

"Hello?" Phil asked flatly.

"Umm, Phil? What's wrong with you?"

He sighed loudly, "I don't have time for your shit, Bruno. I need to get ready."

"Sorry, Man, I just wanted to apologize. I know I was acting like a douche, but I'm gonna change," I told him. He didn't respond, though, but that's okay. I didn't expect him to believe me anyway. "I'm serious about this."

"So you'll stop missing sessions?"

"Mhm."

"And you won't fuck around with women anymore?" he continued.

"Not unless they mean something to me."

I knew Phil's expression had changed from gruff and annoyed to refreshed and happy. I could feel his smile. "Bruno, I'm so proud of your decision. I hope you really, truly mean this. I'd hate to see you fall deeper into that abyss you're in."

"I promise, I'm going to change."

"Okay, well you know, there's still an empty seat for you at his wedding if you want to go," Phil proposed.

"Are you serious, Dude? What time does it start? It's already ten," I complained. I was going to need some time to look good.

"Starts at two," he proclaimed, "I'll pick you up at one. 'Kay?"

Dammit, how could I turn him down this time? I couldn't. "All right. I'll be waiting. And pick me up something pretty on your way over," I joked. We both laughed before I hung up.

I tossed my phone onto the couch before sprinting to the shower. It takes about three hours for me to look decent enough to attend a wedding.

FOUR HOURS LATER . . .

"You ready for the food?" Phil asks excitedly.

"What kind of question is that? I'm always ready for food!" I laughed. We walked into the room where the reception was to be held. music blared, people danced, and the whole place looked stunning. The lights dimmed as I made my way to the table I was supposed to be sitting at. I turned my head to watch the bride and groom enter. I smiled at the sight of the two love birds.

I began my voyage over to the bar when the newlyweds started dancing. Not many people would notice me since they were all watching Mike bite off Janice's garter. "Margarita, please."

"On the rocks?" the young bartender asked from behind the wooden counter. I shook my head and he spun around to get my drink. I sat down right as he handed me my oversized glass. That's when I heard the deejay's low voice cut into the song.

"Sorry to interrupt, everybody, but it has come to my attention that we have a celebrity in the building!" I noticed how everyone started looking around, trying to find the famous outcast. After about five seconds, the tell-tale scream of a young girl told me I had been spotted. "Won't you sing us a song, Bruno Mars?"

I looked at the middle-aged man behind the deejay booth and shrugged lightheartedly, a smile plastered on my face. People from all across the room had spotted me by then, and many of the girls were chanting hysterically. "C'mon! Bruno! Bruno! Bruno! . . . "

There was no getting out of this one. I dropped a fifty on the counter and hopped off my stool. People celebrated as I made my way up to the stage on which the deejay sat.

"Hey, how y'all doin'?" I hollered into the microphone. Various shouts encouraged me to go on. "Congratulations to Mike and Janice, I hope you both a wonderful life together. This song is for you!" And "Marry You" started thumping through the speakers. I saw one young lady singing along to every word, she must be a huge fangirl.

I finished the song and stepped off the stage and into the rapidly applauding crowd. Phil squeezed between two gentlemen and enveloped me in a hug. "I told you you'd have fun tonight!" he goaded. "Talk to you soon, I gotta dance with Urbana." I nodded and started walking to my table. But, of course, my cover had been blown and I was prepared to be bombarded by ladies.

"Bruno Mars! I can't believe it! I'm a huge fan!" said one lady whom I'd never seen before. She looked about thirty years-old. Her bright red hair was the only thing I could focus on, aside from her bright blue eyes. Not the prettiest thing I'd ever seen, but not bad, really.

"How ya doin'?" I smiled. She nearly melted. It's really funny, actually; women went crazy over me because they figured that since I had been on television, I was more impressive than any other man. I wasn't, though. There were a lot more men out there better than me, some famous, others not, but they didn't know that.

"I'm great. My name is Danielle, by the way. I was wondering if you'd like to meet my friend Alison," Danielle pleaded. She but her lip in a terribly tempting way.

"Sure. Where is Alison?"

Just then, a tiny little brunette stepped around Danielle's side. Oh, my god, she was gorgeous. I had to stop myself from staring too long into her huge, green eyes. "Hi," she said quietly. I frowned at the way she shifted her weight to one leg and put her left hand on her hip. She didn't seem too impressed.

"Hello, young lady. I'm guessing you're Alison, correct?" I implied smoothly. She nodded. "Nice to meet you."

Then she rolled her eyes. It did sort of make me upset to see her so unhappy with my presence. "Alison, be nice to him," Danielle hissed. Alison gave her an are you kidding me? look before turning to me and smiling sarcastically.

"Good?" Alison whispered to Danielle. What was her deal? Danielle rolled her gaze back in my direction before Alison walked away.

I was still staring off into the crowd where Alison had disappeared when Danielle said, "I'm sorry about her. I don't know what's wrong with her."

"Oh, it's okay," I lied. "Can I buy you a drink?"

She blushed, glanced down at her feet and politely declined, "Two years sober."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Well, that's great," I congratulated her. I wish I could go that long without a drink. "If you'll excuse me, I have to find my friend."

"Okay, sure, no problem. See ya around?"

I smiled, "Sure." And then I proceeded into the crowd in-search of Alison. I needed to know why she was so revolted by me.