I ran a hand through my brunette hair, pulling out the knots as best as I could. I fixed up some of my makeup, and adjusted my dress slightly. I sighed as I looked in the mirror. I wasn’t exactly a stunner, my hair was thick and a dull brown, my face was average looking, the only thing that was nice about it was my eyes. I had very blue eyes, and I was often complimented on them. I was not exactly skinny, but I wasn’t fat, or curvy. Just average. I wasn’t exactly what you’d expect a famous singer to go for, but still I looked sorta presentable as I grabbed my purse from the bed, and made my way out to the restaurant around the corner.

I made my way into the restaurant, and noticed that Austin was already sitting at a table. I smiled at the hostess and pointed at Austin before making my way over.

“Hey,” he greeted me with a grin on his face.

“Hey,” I replied, returning the grin. He looked good, he was wearing one of his vest shirt things that he always wears, and his hair hung naturally around his face. He had that adorable half smile playing on his lips, and his eyes almost sparkled.

“How was the read through?” he asked me.

“It was dull to be honest, I saw some friends though which was nice. But I’ve been struggling with the score for this one for days. When I get back to New York I’m just gonna have to sit down and write, that’s the only way I’ll get it done. But I’m out of inspiration for this one,” I sighed.

“I’m sure it’ll come to you, it always does for me eventually,” he reasoned. I smiled up at him, grateful that he was helping me, “anyways, I wanna know more about you. Not what you do, but about yourself.”

“Well, as I said before I grew up just outside of Oxford in England. I love Oxford with all my heart and I miss it so much, have you ever been?” I asked him, and he just shook his head, willing me to continue.

“My parents still live there with my younger brother, but my sister moved out to New York last year to go to college. I’ve only been back twice since I moved out, the first time to let them know I’d graduated, the second for personal reasons, which is shitty, but I plan to go back after this film score is written and recorded.” I said, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the ‘personal reasons’.

“Why haven’t you been back?” he asked me.

“I, unfortunately, haven’t had the time. I’ve been so busy with my life and working. Me and my mum only started talking again last month as well,” I mentioned, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the fact we hadn’t spoken before then.

“Why were you not talking to her before then?” he asked, his eyes full of curiosity, but also a hint of sadness.

“When I was growing up, me and my parents didn’t have a great relationship. They would often tell me that I wasn’t good enough for a lot of things, but I vowed I’d prove them wrong one day. When I got accepted to Julliard, I had had enough of their constant bitching and their constant doubting, that going was one of the easiest decisions I’ve ever made. I wanted to leave and get away. My mum was so angry that I’d applied without telling her, and she was also pissed that I felt the need to run away to America. It broke her heart that I left, and at the time I didn’t think I’d need her, so told her she would probably never see me again. She told me in the heat of the moment that I would never make anything of myself, and that my attitude to life would have me ending up working at McDonald’s for the rest of my life. Since then I’ve had to deal with some stuff that I could’ve really needed her help with, but she was never prepared to pick up the phone, never there when I needed her. I hated her for saying that stuff to me, it ate away at my confidence, it took the professors at Julliard’s years to build it back up,” I explained. I noticed him looking at me with sadness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry she made you feel that way,” he spoke up, looking me straight in my eyes.

“It’s not your fault. I just don’t take compliments all that well; I don’t believe that my work or I’m worth complimenting.” He looked up at me surprised, a confused look in his eyes.

“Why do you not think you are? You’re beautiful and clearly talented, Emma.”

I blushed but didn’t reply. Instead I looked down at the menu, twiddling with my fingers on the table.

He reached across the table and laid his hand on top of mine, stopping the movement in my hands. I snatched them away abruptly, uncomfortable with the contact.

“Anyways, I was thinking of getting a four cheese pizza,” I hastily started up the conversation again, trying to forget about the moment that had just passed between us.

“You should go for the one with pepperoni on it, it’s amazing here,” he suggested, his eyes still full of concern, but despite this he kept up with my change of subject. Something I was very grateful for.

“Oh? OK,” I replied, fully aware that conversation was dying between us.

Our waitress came back over and took our orders, and then we carried on sitting in awkward silence, both of us trying our hardest to think of something to say.

“So when are you going back to New York?” Austin asked me cautiously. I sighed, it was too soon.

“I’m going back in a couple of days, I’ve got a couple of important things to get back to,” not quite yet ready to tell him I had a 7 year old waiting for me at home, “I’ve got a few ends to tie up here, and I wanna spend some time with my friend Jen, but then I go back to New York and it’s down to the grind for me,” I grimaced at the thought, “this is quite literally my holiday. When I get back, I’ll be locked away in my apartment writing and recording. I don’t wanna go back, because my co-writers are expecting me to have some sort of inspiration. I have absolutely none.”

Our food arrived at that point, and Austin and I tucked in immediately.

“Look Emma, you can’t force inspiration. But you should look for comparisons between your life and the life of the characters you are writing for. Who’s the main character in the film and what’s it about?” he asked me.

“It’s a love story,” I said not wanting to elaborate much further, because I would probably be shot. It was uber secretive.

“So pull on your love life at the moment; take inspiration from moments in your life that are similar. Your whole life is a movie, so write the soundtrack to your life,” he suggested, and I couldn’t help but laugh. He was so fucking cheesy.

“I wish I had a love life to take inspiration from,” I sniggered.

“There must have been that one person that you sort of wish you’d never let go, that one person who was a what if. Everyone has one, but sometimes life just pulls them from you, because for them it was never meant to be,” he looked into my eyes. I averted my gaze, going back to fiddling with my fingers. There was someone, but I wasn’t ready to tell him about that.

Notes

So there I was saying "wahoo I'll update loads!" but I didn't take into account that I go back to school next Wednesday, and I suddenly realised the shit load of work I was meant to do, is still sat unfinished on the side in my room. So I've been so busy with that, and I haven't had the chance to even think about updating...that on top of the fact on the first day back our Personal Statements for University are gonna be checked, and mine is only half completed. I dunno what to write!!

Anyways enough moaning and making excuses...here's the next update! More Austin in this one so Woop!

I'm sad because my best friend went to Reading Festival this past weekend without me, because I couldn't get time off work and watching it back it looked fucking incredible...so that's made me super sad :(

Anyways feedback is always appreciated guys :)

Thanks to you peeps for reading and for those guys who commented on the last chapter :)

Peace x