I realized all of my stories have not been updated in at least six months. Then, I saw that this was because I was beginning chapters and one-shots without having the desire to finish and publish them. So, in order to remind myself to finish them, I'm putting unfinished chapters and one shots in here. I would really like reviews to know if the chapters are worth finishing. Several of the chapters may contain spoilers or hints about my other stories. Also, there will be some of my own random musings as I write in there, so if you don't care about that stuff just skip those chapters. I will label the chapters by story they belong two and title. Thanks and please give feedback!

Musical Love

The Cure- Jordin Sparks

He was taller, almost 6foot 6inches. It was the first thing she noticed when she opened the door to her San Francisco 1 bedroom walk-up. And beautiful as hell. All his lanky, boyish features had turned into those of a man. She hadn't seen him in 3 years. But, it didn't matter. Because he was on her doorstep with those desperate eyes.
"Hey, Brie." he said, sadly.
"Come on in." she responded, stepping aside to let him in. He almost had to duck entering through the front door.
She shut the door behind him and took a deep breath. When she turned to face him, he was studying a picture of her with her best friend, Leann, in the park. She was struck again at how much he'd changed. Not just his physical size, but the edge it gave him. She could tell that he had no problem commanding a room, like he had in high school. He had always been charming, liked by everyone in their graduating class. But he preferred to fly under the radar, hang with people like her, average, unremarkable. Now, however, she could see it: he was a leader, someone others looked up to.
Then again, it shouldn't surprise her. He was a leader after all, a sort of public figure. It was the cause of all those muscles. Looking back, this was the only thing he'd never minded excelling at: basketball.

They stood their for a while; him studying the pictures lining the wall, her trying to process her thoughts into an appropriate greeting.

"You look different." she said, quietly, almost to herself.
Hearing, he turned to her and a half-hearted grin spread across his face, "You noticed, huh? Never thought you'd have to look up at me." he said jokingly.
"No, I certainly didn't." she mused, realizing that he had almost 10 inches on her slim 5 foot 8 inches. Again, silence settled momentarily over the pair as they thought back to the years they spent as best friends.

"So I guess you really did it, huh? Became a photographer. If my art buyer isn't suggesting I buy one of your recreational shots, then I'm hearing about you from every smuck I meet at dinner parties. Gabriella Montez, up and coming artist."
She blushes and, seeing this he continues in a snotty upper east side accent, "she's just a-mazing. Virtually unknown until last year when she released these great pieces about New York."
"I didn't realize you'd been keeping tabs on me."
"Well, I can't believe you came to New York and didn't visit, huh?"
She dodges the question, "Well, you haven't exactly been staying anonymous lately. What with basketball and... all." she wanted to say the fiancé but she didn't, they both knew what she meant. His faced dropped it's playful expression before clearing his throat and saying, "I missed you, Brie."
"I missed you two, wildcat." And just like that his arms are around me, his head nestled in my hair, my head laying on his muscular chest.
His voice is strained when he says, "She dumped me, Brie."
"I know," I say, squeezing him tighter.
"Please, just make it all go away."
"I will, Troy, I promise."
ZZZ
For the next few days, I mostly keep Troy stashed away in my tiny apartment, sleeping on my sleeper sofa-although most nights I end up there too. We order delivery Chinese food, pizza, ice cream and watch pay-per-view. Drinking cheap wine or whiskey, he pours his heart out about the latest break-up. A supermodel, Eva Lopez. The way he'd proposed to her, the way she'd just told him she been cheating on him during their 2 year anniversary. That was the problem with being in love with Troy for so long, you could never really hate him. He was sweet to the bone, always getting his heart broken never breaking any. Surely, he didn't mean to be completely oblivious to my feelings, he just wasn't good with women. Imagine that, an uber-attractive NBA star who got completely tongue-tied when a beautiful women entered the room. Completely unaware of the effect he had on women, on people in general. Really, he hadn't changed since high school. People still adored him, for his looks, good guy charm and self-deprecating humor. It was a Thursday night, late, when he pulled me close, "When did we stop being friends?"
"What do you mean? Of course we're friends."
"C'mon, we haven't spoken in three years. You didn't even come see me when you were in New York."
"I was busy. Working."
"For three months?"
She sighed, "I wanted to see you, I did. But it felt like I was crossing some line, like I couldn't know you."
"Know me? You were my best friend!"
Made bold by the liquor and his proximity, she decided to tell the truth, "I didn't feel good enough, okay? The broke, unknown photographer visiting her millionaire athlete best friend. I chose to stay in San Fran while you went off to New York City. I didn't want you to see how big of a mistake I'd made, what a failure I was."
There was silence for a brief time before I feel his warm breath tickling my ear, "No, Brie. Not a failure. Never a failure. Just brave. And beautiful. And perfect. Totally perfect."
I feel the heat creep up my neck before mumbling something about not being perfect.
"well, maybe not completely perfect. But, you have managed to keep the paparazzi from finding out that I'm here and you've listened to my bitching for days even though it's not your problem and you made a name for yourself even though everyone- including me- told you it was a silly dream. That sounds pretty amazing to me."
"it's not really." there was so much about the lonely 2 years after he left that she wanted to tell him about, prove that she was less than perfect. But, all of those painful memories were stored away inside of her somewhere, never too be accessed lest they destroy everything she'd worked towards. So, she told as much of the truth as she could without telling it all. Nothing. "As for the paparazzi, I may have told a little white lie to a friend over at People. Just may have dropped a helpful hint that you had been spotted in my gallery in Los Angeles buying pieces for your new bachelor pad. She'll have everyone running down that lead for a little while longer before it dead ends."
"And then what?"
"I'll call in a favor. Pull strings. Buy time until you decide you don't need it."
"And what if I don't?"
"Don't what?"
"Decide that I'm ready to go back. What if I don't want to leave you again, Brie?"
The question is more complicated then I was prepared for. Just the memory of him going off to New York without me so long ago makes me feel sick. I have no idea how I will ever be able to say goodbye to him a second time if I let him in again. And, considering I'm practically in his lap and ready to spill my guts, I'd say I'm basically there, "let's just not think about it now, okay?"