Disclaimer: my owning South of Nowhere and characters= unfortunately nonexistent.
A/N: this is my first story! So pretty please tell me what you think? I'd love to hear from you! (:
I swirl my drink around in my cup absentmindedly. I zone out as I try to clear my mind of all thoughts. These last few weeks have been horrible. Actually horrible. Lately, I've been in a real slump. Every time I pick up my camera, it's with a sense of trepidation and dread. Everything I film has been falling flat. It's lacked life, a point, and, well, quality. Usually, all my nerves dissipate when I have my camera in hand, so this is weird and completely frustrating.
For my film class at UCLA, I have a major project to do. It only has to be a few minutes, and we've been given plenty of time already. What do I have to show for all that time? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero. It's due next week, and I don't even know what it'll be about. My teacher gave us free reign. Total artistic control. Normally, I'd be thrilled. Now? Not so much. I feel as though I need some sort of direction, at the very least.
Hence why I'm sitting at this bar. My friend Chelsea thought it'd do my good to get out for a bit. Loosen up, or whatever. It's been tough for the both of us. So even though we're underage, we decided to come. We're nineteen, so we really shouldn't be here. But that's what fake IDs are for, right?
"Spence?" I glance over at Chelsea. "I know it sucks right now, but it'll get better. I promise," she gives me a sad smile "I miss him too." She says it so quietly, tears threatening to overcome her.
I reach over and grab her hand, giving it a squeeze. It helps relieve some of the tightness in my chest. It's the best thank you I can give, since I can't trust my voice right now. I'm afraid I'll start crying if I try to talk.
I lost my brother Clay two years ago. It was prom night, and I was there with my boyfriend Aiden. Chelsea and Clay were together. We were happy; smiling, laughing, dancing. Then everything shifted suddenly. There was a drive-by shooting. The moment the first gun shot sounded, the world froze. When a bullet hit Aiden, I stopped breathing. But when Clay was hit, my world shattered.
Clay was not only the best brother; he was also an amazing person. He was smart and funny, caring and accepting. Sometime when I was dating Aiden, I started to realize that I didn't really like him in a boyfriend-type way. In fact, I found that even though he was cute and sweet, my eyes were constantly being drawn to other girls. I told Clay this, and he smiled and gave me a big hug. He told me that he'd love me no matter what.
I was going to tell Aiden that we couldn't be together anymore sometime after prom. He'd already bought the tickets, and I couldn't bring myself to dump him mere days before the dance. It was just too cruel. Instead of being a fun night though, prom turned into one ugly mess.
Clay, the one person in the world who deserved it least of all, died on the way to the hospital. Three other people died too. Aiden wasn't one of them. Through some miracle, he lived. And I resented him for it. Clay should've got to live. He was a better person than Aiden. Hell, he was a better person than anyone. I hated myself for thinking like that. But I couldn't help it. Needless to say, Aiden and I were through almost immediately.
The anniversary of Clay's death is a few weeks away. This time last year, I almost couldn't handle the pain. I cried myself to sleep every night. I still do sometimes, but not as often. I almost wasn't strong enough to keep myself together. I somehow managed though. Ever since then, everything was getting a little easier with each passing day. But now, everything's just so fresh again. It's like reliving the horror that was watching my brother bleed to death, the life fading from his eyes.
Lost in thought, I vaguely hear someone being introduced. Gentle acoustic guitar sweeps through the room, pulling me out of my thoughts. The strumming is beautiful, and the combination of it and the little amount of alcohol I've had is having a relaxing effect. A husky voice floods the bar. It's beautiful. It rolls in waves, and washes over me. My eyes lift from my drink and are drawn to the singer.
My heart stops when I see her, I swear it does. She's sting atop a wooden stool, strumming her red acoustic guitar. The bar is dimly lit, and a dull spotlight is trained on her. My eyes travel up her body. Black converse, dark skinny jeans, and a perfectly low-cut white halter top. Her clothes show off her body amazingly. And she's got a great body. Like seriously fantastic.
My gaze finally settles on her face; all trace of coherent thought flew out the window. She is quite possibly the most gorgeous person on this planet. As she's singing, she smiles, flashing straight white teeth, and crinkling her nose adorably. Scratch that. She is the most gorgeous person on this planet.
Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, but a few strands of her curly brown hair have escaped, and frame her face beautifully. She has her side-swept bangs died pink, but not obnoxiously so. It's cute. As she sings, she mostly keeps her eyes closed, but when she opens them, I find myself staring into chocolatey orbs that someone could get lost in and wander around in forever. Part of me wanted to, but she closed her eyes again. That was better though; I was on a mission to commit every detail of this gorgeous creature to memory. Her lips are soft and pink, and definitely kissable.
I've forgotten how to breathe. It's easy, right? In, out; in, out. Except my body won't do it. It seems to be stuck on the "in". After a few seconds of this I manage to figure it out. I flush as my breath sounds more like a gasp for air. Chelsea's giving me a weird look, and I know exactly why. I'm acting like a lunatic.
Right then though, my focus is pulled away from my mental health, because the singer smiles and stand up. She pulls her guitar strap over her head as the bar applauds her. I clap too, probably a little too enthusiastically, but whatever. She blushes lightly at the applause (how fucking adorable can she get?) and walks off to put her guitar away.
I mentally smack myself. Why the hell wasn't I listening when she was introduced? I need to know her name. Need to.
"Hey, Chels,"
"Yeah?"
"What's that girl's name?" I try to sound nonchalant, but I don't think it's working very well.
"Who? The girl who was just singing?" She feigns ignorance, but I can see that playful smirk dancing across her features.
"Yes," I grit my teeth, "the girl who was just singing. What's her name? I didn't catch it."
"Her name's Ashley Davies," Chelsea was definitely enjoying this too much, "and I saw you totally checking her out. You should go talk to her."
I snort in response.
"Why not?"
"Uhhhh.. how about because our conversation would go something like this "hey, so I was watching you sing, and I think I'm in love with you. Kay thanks bye.""
She rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her drink. I'm still watching the girl. Ashley. What a fitting name. A pretty name for a pretty girl. All I can think about is how she needs to be in front of a camera. She's got charisma, that's for sure. And she's got looks. And with her smile and eyes, she's golden. She belongs on a television screen, for sure. A thousand thoughts race through my head, until a single one stops them in their tracks. I could film her. I could get my project done, have a reason to talk to her, and spend time with her. A smile graces my lips. This is absolute perfection.
A/N: Sorry it's so long! So should I write more, or scrap it?
