Disclaimer: I don't own any songs used, nor do I own Instant Star. Don't sue me. I'm poor
Grace is Gone
I'm fine
It's 45 after 9
Tearing my eyes from the angel on the other side of the glass, I glanced down at my cell phone.
Almost ten. We'd been at this for five hours, trying to get the right sound, the perfect track.
I looked back, my gaze once again transfixed on the gorgeous blonde, singing in front of me. Her eyes closed, she was so passionate. I couldn't help but stare.
Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, locking with mine, catching me for then millionth time that night.
Looking up sideways
I can't wait for you to make your move
The tension between us was thick enough to cut with a knife.
She'd turned 18 a year ago, and we still weren't together. She'd been through countless guys, even hooking up with Speiderman a few times.
But they never stuck. She always let them go, or slowly started to ignore them.
You're mine
At least you are tonight
But I've been getting so frustrated hanging on the line
"Girl, that was it," I said happily into the intercom, "Get your ass out here, let's celebrate the completion of your fourth album."
I watched her face light up as a huge grin crept across it. She launched herself off the stool, and out of the sound booth, straight into my arms. Wrapping my arms around her, I held her to me close, lifting her off the floor and spinning her around before gently placing her back on the ground.
What are you waiting for?
I couldn't want you more right now
She was gorgeous, almost childlike in her happiness. She pranced around the studio, skipping and yelling.
"We're done!" she screamed, heading towards the door, "Wooooo!"
"Where you going, girl?" I asked, laughing quietly at her actions.
"Food—I haven't eaten in hours," she said dramatically.
Shaking my head, I smiled as she turned to leave, blowing me a kiss over her shoulder as she headed out the door.
I've never felt so unsure
All signs point in your direction
Start it now, let's get this perfection rolling
I settled back on the couch, stretching out to rest while I waited anxiously for her return.
I wasn't disappointed. She soon burst through the doors a box in her hands.
"Thought you were getting food," I said, peering up at her, "what have you got in the box?"
Grinning triumphantly, she sat on the floor near the couch, holding the box out toward me.
"Who says it isn't food?" she asked cheekily, laughing, she continued, "Anyway, it's my present to you."
And I'm great
I hope it's not too late
I couldn't believe she'd remembered the tradition. We hadn't done anything for the last album, mainly because we still were at odds when it wrapped.
Opening the box, a sweet sugary smell wafted up towards my nose, making my mouth water. Glancing into the box, I found two homemade cupcakes, with a candle in each.
"I made them myself," she said proudly.
"Should I be worried?" I asked, my face betraying my thoughts of how horrible they must taste.
"Shut up," she said petulantly, "And I didn't make them all by myself. Sadie helped me with the recipe Mom normally uses for birthday cakes."
Glancing around the room as I laughed at her domestic hopelessness, she began pawing through my desk, "Where's your lighter? I need it for the candles."
"It's an album, Jude," I said sarcastically, looking up at her expectant face, "not a birthday."
"Well," she said slowly, rocking back and forth, "I figured it was just as good. It's like my album's birthday. But we get to make wishes because it can't."
Grabbing my lighter from my jacket pocket, she quickly flicked it open and lit the two candles.
"Now, wish for something," she said, her face glowing in the flickering light, "Make it good, you only get one."
We've been weaving out and in all night, wasting time
So do you feel like I do or do you just feel like you?
Smelling the acrid smoke rise from the extinguished candles, I hoped that she had wished for the same thing I did.
Setting the cupcake down, I got off the couch and walked to the soundboard, reaching under it to grab an elaborately wrapped bag.
I'd bought it weeks ago, and had hardly been able to wait to give it to her.
"Oh," she gasped, "That's pretty. It's mine right?"
"It is if you get over here and get it," I said, laughing as she ran across the room.
Handing the bag to her, I quietly spoke, almost praying, "I hope you like it."
And in my mind I know it's fine,
I know it's time to make it right
But you don't seem to see the signs
I watched as she tore the present from the bag, dropping the tissue paper on the floor once she grabbed the object from the bottom.
Looking at the package for a moment, she glanced quizzically at me for a moment, before running her fingers over the outside of the soft black box.
Hesitantly, she opened it, and I grinned in relief when she gasped in delight as she revealed a diamond encrusted platinum star pendant.
"I don't know what to say," she said, looking back at me, stunned, "Thank you Tommy, I'm speechless."
As she threw her arms around me one more time, I turned my head to whisper in her softly in her ear.
"You don't have to thank me girl. The look on your face was enough," I said.
Pulling back slightly, my arms still around her waist, she gazed at the present, laughing a bit to herself as she fingered the platinum chain attached to it.
"What's so funny?" I asked, tickling her a bit to get her attention.
"Nothing—stop it!" she giggled, squirming in my arms, "It's just…well, I can't imagine what you buy your girlfriends if this is the type of present you give a friend."
So I guess the only thing is to put it all on me
I stopped tickling her at those words. That's all she thought of this—that we're just friends?
How could she not see what I see?
What more could I do to make her realize what I wanted—what was standing right in front of her?
What are you waiting for?
I couldn't want you more right now
I've never felt so unsure
"Hey," she said, her eyes searching my face, "what's wrong?"
"Jude," I chocked out, knowing that I needed to get it over with quickly, "there's something I need to tell you."
"Wha-" she began, but I leaned in quickly, pushing my lips to hers, cutting her off before she could ask any more.
Pulling her closer, I tried to deepen the kiss, running my tongue along her lower lip, begging her for access.
Suddenly, I felt something against my chest, and soon our kiss was broken.
Cause all signs point in another direction
All my affection was for rejection
I must have looked crushed. I know that's how my heart felt when she pushed me away. Looking up from the floor, I tried to avoid her eyes, tried to drown out her voice as she began to speak.
"Tommy," she said, quietly, almost painfully, "It's too late. You had your chance, you threw it away twice. First when you left for Montana without a single phone call. Then the past year."
I felt a tear drop from my watery eyes, and I quickly turned around, facing the soundboard once again, waiting for her to leave.
Her voice rang out again behind me, softly apologetic, "I'm sorry it has to be this way, I really am. I'll see you later."
I listened to her quiet footsteps as she padded out of the room, trying to hold myself together until I heard the glass doors of the studio open, and slam shut.
As the sound echoed around me in the deafening silence, I began to cry, wishing that I had done something differently, anything, to make her mine.
As my eyes wandered the empty room, something on the shining on the couch caught my gaze.
I walked over to look more closely at what it was, hoping it wasn't what I believed it to be.
Sparkling back at me from it's place in the box was the necklace, left behind, like me.
Grasping it in my hands, I sobbed, knowing it was all my fault.
I'm rolling to you