《Westwood School》bring hell
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I felt like I was on fire even as we walked through the freezing rain back into her house. I couldn't keep a stupid smile off my face. I probably was grinning like a total idiot, but I couldn't help myself.
She loves me.
Someone needed to sound the alarm. I felt like there should be angels singing, maybe some fireworks and definitely confetti falling from the sky. Preferable eco friendly confetti.
As I stepped inside, I shook my head, letting water droplets spray out from my hair like a wet dog. I saw Nola giggling out of the corner of her eye, undoubtedly at the sight of me.
"Why are y'all just standing there?" a young girl's voice called. She looked to be about 14, and had short, shoulder length mousy brown hair. Her light green eyes were piecing as she cocked a curious and haughty eyebrow at me.
"Oh shut up," Nola retorted back laughing and rolling her eyes and tossing her hair as she always did.
The other girl rolled her eyes and made an eerily familiar expression, mirroring Nola's exactly.
"Sorry, that's my sister Annie. She's..." Nola's eyes followed her as she walked away, "special."
"Seems to run in the family," I muttered to myself.
I could see Nola roll her eyes and bite her lip, and It took everything in me not to drop everything and kiss her right then. But I personally think kissing her in her front foyer with her whole family the next room over definitely wasn't the level were were on, especially since we literally just got back together.
But, she loves me.
"Um, let's go upstairs to the music room, I have some stuff I want to show you that I've been working on. And I'll grab us some towels and hot tea," Nola spoke fairly softly, and I just nodded along, just happy and content that she was talking to me in the first place.
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We climbed the large stairway, and I watched shamelessly as Nola swished her lips right in front of me. Let me just say, if someone deserved a trophy for the best ass, Nola should get it.
We stumbled into a beautiful, well light gold and black, poster covered room, with multiple drum sets, many guitars and a keyboard and piano, and enough recording equipment to do basically whatever we could ever imagine.
"Woah," I whisted lowly, turning around the room.
Nola disappeared for just a moment, and I sat down happily on one of the stools. Just as she walked back into the room with two steaming cups of tea and towels, looking like an angel sent from heaven, my phone started ringing.
I frowned and pulled it out of my pocket. I frowned even deeper when I read who was ringing. Our producer.
Really? Now?
I sighed, and answered the phone. I could see Magnolia watching me through her thick lashes, looking over the rim of her coffee mug.
"Yes?"
"Do you have any idea where in God's name Magnolia Harris is?"
"Umm.." I thought, unsure how I was supposed to answer that, "Maybe?"
"Well you two need to get together, sort out whatever lovers tift you're having, and give me 12 songs by the end of the week. You have a scheduled interview with Music Magazine, with the entire band, there you'll talk about the release date of the new album, and if all goes well, a Rolling Stone's Magazine interview in a short time. And we need to plan tour dates. So please, get it together. You may be teenagers, but you signed this contract as adults, so start acting like it."
I pulled the phone back away from my ear, and dragged a hand down my face in exasperation as I took a deep breath and sighed.
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"Yes, yes we can have the songs all done by then. I promise. Let's even plan on recording in a week from now. Thank you, talk to you later, bye."
I hung up before he could talk anymore. I leaned back in my chair. I suddenly was aching and exhausted, no longer floating on a cloud of bubbles and rainbows.
"Is everything okay?" a sweet, angelic voice asked me.
I lifted my eyes to see her perfectly imperfect green eyes staring intently at me, not even trying to hide the concern so obvious in them.
Suddenly, that heaviness, that unhappiness was washed away. How could I be unhappy when it so obviously distressed her? I was once again filled with that addicting feeling of comfort.
"The producer wants us to have an albums worth of songs by the end of this week, which I don't doubt we can do, it just seems like... homework when I've just hit the weekend," I confessed, my words jumping over each other making me sound like I had no idea what I was saying. And, to be fair, I really didn't.
Suddenly, a familiar look appeared across Nola's soft features. A look of mischief.
"Oh god, what are you thinking?"
Nola smiled and shrugged, "You know I dragged you up here to show you a bunch of songs I've been working on. And I know you've written some, and so has Matteo, Cas and Laurent, so what do you say we bring hell?"
"Bring hell?" I asked cautiously.
She nodded, her eyes gleaming as she did, "We are about to write the album that rocks the world. It'll be the perfect storm, and completely different and radical compared to these same ole pop songs that just keep flooding my mind. I wanna make everyone uncomfortable, and put out the album they've never expected."
A smile grew across my face, and I was so moved by her words, I stood up in my chair. I stretched out a hand to her, pulling her up to my chest.
I quickly pressed a kiss against her lips, not being able to stop myself.
"That's my girl."
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