AN: Hello, all. After getting blessings from another writer in the GMW community, I have decided to go forward with this idea. Just so everyone knows, I do not own any of the characters of Girl Meets World and I do not own any songs that are mentioned in this story. Also, Maya's music is based off of musician Colbie Caillat if you guys want to look up her music and listen along.
There is absolutely nothing like Christmastime in the Big Apple. A thousand twinkling lights shimmering in the countless power lines and branches. Young and old, figure skating around the legendary Rockefeller Christmas tree. Red, silver, gold and green inhabit the store windows and front doors of homes, like a familiar friend coming to say 'Hello, it's me.' And then, there are those feelings. Most people can only have one of the two strong emotions that happen around this magical or dreadful time of year. The first, of course, is accompanied with all the pictures aforementioned and that is love. But, what about the ones who aren't lucky enough to share the holidays with someone they treasure? No mistletoe, no sharing gifts or kisses with cocoa? It's not quite bitter, but definitely not sad. Hollow. Empty. Longing. Yes, what are the long forgotten hearts of the Christmas yearning to do now? Some filled their stockings of loneliness with volunteerism and candy canes and fallacious cheer. Not Riley Matthews. Not this year.
You see, Riley wasn't having a great year. In fact, on record, it has been the worst year of her natural-born life. First, she turned 25. Not so bad, you say? Well, it's a proven fact that getting older officially becomes uncool after drinking age. Next, there was that she still couldn't drive, had no tattoos to speak of, and she only ever had one boyfriend. This would be a plus, except that it ended. They met at Columbia; she was wide-eyed and full of nervous excitement, relishing in her first time away from the only home she's ever known and he was new to the big city, with a southern drawlin' charm that made all the freshman girls and some boys, melt. Riley accidentally stumbled into Lucas Friar in the quad and the rest was cliched history. The couple graduated together, applied for the same internship and both got salaried jobs from that internship. At the New York Star, Lucas wrote for the sports column and Riley wrote for the politics section. They were going to move into their first apartment together and live happily ever after with two little girls and one cat and one dog. Until, Lucas decided she wasn't the one.
In the summer, Riley's knight in a shining Stetson told her that he needed to find himself, in her studio apartment, in front of her cat, Violet, and God, and all of New York.
"But, I thought that's what that summer in Europe was about? Right?" Riley said, with a confused smile.
"Riley, we've been together since our freshman year at Columbia-" He almost sounded like he was complaining.
"I know! It's perfect! We're perfect!"
"Don't you think we owe it to ourselves to see what's out there?"
Her smile cracked, "You think you can find someone... better than me?"
Lucas grabbed her hands and shook his head, "No, no, no. I just think that... you know how they say 'if you love something or someone, set it free?'"
"It's a cliche that people use when they don't have the guts to say what they really want." She let her hands drop from his.
"Riley, I love you but I just... need some time."
Funny that it only took two months of Lucas' time to figure out that he wanted to be with Missy Bradford, the Arts and Entertainment editor at the New York Star and her college rival. They flaunted their relationship all through the office. In support, her cube-mate and work friend Isadora Smackle always made faces behind their backs and bought Riley drinks after the long days. The worst part was, even with the horrible breakup and the work/relationship humiliation, Riley still wanted to remain friends with Lucas. She was still in love with Lucas.
It was now the office Christmas party and she was sitting at her desk alone, with a single piece of cheesecake. It was impossible for her not to stare at Lucas, Missy and their colleagues all laughing and talking. Maybe if he just looked over and saw her eyes, maybe he would understand and things would click. The midnight texts she still got, the way he would say good morning to her, the lunches they would have when Missy was away, it all had to mean something. Maybe Lucas would finally realize that he didn't need anyone but Riley and they belonged together. They are destiny. They are fate.
She snapped out of her fantasy when their Editor-In-Chief clinked a fork against a champagne flute. "Everyone! Everyone gather 'round!" The office huddled around their boss, Lucas and Missy. It was a party but Bosslady's voice still had that authoritative boom. "Shut that Christmas music down, will 'ya? Smackle, where are you?" Next to Riley, the shorter woman raised a polite index finger instead of an offensive middle that would surely get her fired. "For your next Science of Love column, you don't have travel much farther than your backyard, because Missy and Lucas are tying the knot! They're engaged!"
With all the cheers and whoops for the bride and groom to be, Riley could only stand frozen in time. Seven years, she gave Lucas her love, her body, her mind and her soul but it only took Missy three months to get a ring. It felt like her feet were dissolving into dust. Her brown irises gained water within .2 seconds. How could he not tell her? While getting hugs and shaking hands, Lucas finally saw Riley's face. She quickly wiped her tears and gave a kind smile, which he returned. After that, she couldn't take anymore. Her heart was breaking rapidly and she thought she might fall into pieces in the middle of the celebration. Riley ran past a worried Smackle when she called her name. She grabbed all of her outerwear garments like she was stealing them and made her way home. The crisp, cold air made her cheeks ruddy with the need to get indoors. Although she had a down-coat, a scarf, hat, gloves and long-johns on her body, Riley still held herself for warmth. She carefully side-stepped the patches of snow on the way to her lower level apartment. Shivering, Riley fought with key and hand to open her front door.
As soon as the doorknob turned, she ran into her home just to slam her door behind her. Riley exploded into sobs, sinking down, down, down against her exit. Violet found her and cuddled against her calves.
Nothing but palm trees and blue skies, as far as the eye could see. It was weather for beach bums and sand castles but the season for pot-bellied Santa Claus asking for a lift on the 101. To Maya Hart, it didn't feel like Christmas but then again, she didn't care much for the holiday anyway which was ironic because she just made a Christmas album. It was more of a business decision, than a personal choice. She listened to the radio in her vintage Mustang, on her way back to her Malibu home. "Christmas Wrapping" was on and she hummed along, thinking it was perfect for her mood.
Holidays with the Harts was always a bit macabre. The little tree that her mom could afford always looked so sad with two gifts under it. Now, Maya was so successful, she could buy her mother all the trees and macaroni-bordered paintings she wanted. Two top twenty albums, one Grammy and several high-priced sold paintings later, Maya Hart was taking over California and soon, the world.
Her best friend, Farkle Minkus once told her that she was making a mistake to not go to college after high school. He has a B.A. in computer science and is now working as her personal assistant. After barely passing 12th grade, Maya made a YouTube channel. In-between serving mocha chai lattes at Starbucks and being a bartender at Bootsy Bellows, she uploaded original songs and covers to her channel weekly, quickly gaining a loyal following. Within a year, she became the number one unsigned Youtube singer in the folk pop genre for ten months. She was invited to the Streamy Awards and got to hob-knob with music executives, getting her brand and her face in their heads. After she posted her first music video for the song, "Bubbly" and got over 20,000 streams in one hour, the biggest labels in the business started a bidding war for the charismatic blonde from Orange County. From there, Maya's music career flew like a rocket.
As much as she loved music, Maya's first love was and always would be, drawing. Her father gave her first easel and palette to her when she was 3 and he died shortly after. To feel closer to him, Maya would paint every feeling she had. It was like talking to her dad. When she wasn't writing songs, which was very often as of late, she was painting in her home gallery. Prolific, Maya soon garnered a collection that was too big even for her new, five bedroom house. Therefore, Farkle suggested she sell some, except for the one's Katy wouldn't part with. He made her a website that Maya promoted on her channel. It didn't take off until she made her first celebrity sale (The Kardashians are into fine art, who'da thunk?!), then, like her album, her paintings were flying off the cyber shelves.
Maya had to admit to herself, now and again, it was a pretty damn good life. Still, there were some things that money just couldn't buy. After grueling hours of traffic, she finally made it back to her Malibu McMansion. The gardener was outside, planting the sunflowers she wanted.
"Hey, Rob," she greeted, getting out of her car.
"Hello, Miss Hart!"
Her eyes then caught his boxes on her property. Maya grit her teeth. She thought he'd be gone by now. More cardboard boxes were holding her door open and she went inside to see Farkle leaning against her bedroom door, watching her now ex-boyfriend, Charlie, pack up his things.
Farkle looked up at Maya, frowning, "I'm sorry, Maya. I tried to make him move quicker but it was like he wanted to make a production of things-"
"He threw my vinyl copy of Rumours on the sidewalk! I want to be reimbursed!" Charlie accused, holding another box of records.
"I'll pay you back, Charlie, OK? Just get out." It took weeks for him to get his stuff, so by now Maya became exhausted just looking at his rat-face. He shoved past Farkle and Maya, making his way to a white van he rented for the move. Her assistant saw her ex out, while Maya looked around her much barer bedroom. She laid down on the bed, letting the covers surround her.
Watching Charlie buckle his seat-belt, Farkle called to him, "Nice van! Suits your preference for underage girls!" Charlie drove away, flipping Farkle off. "Yeah, fuck you too." He said to himself, running back inside to check on his best friend.
Farkle laid on his stomach next to Maya, staring at her sad face. He started to give his normal breakup pep-talk, "You know he's a jerk, right?"
Maya sighed, "Right."
"You know you're amazing, right?" Farkle propped his head on his hand, waiting for her to respond. "Right, Maya?" She just turned over, hugging her pillow. "Maya... "
"Farkle, I just need a moment. OK?" She said somber, without looking at him. Without saying another word, he left her bed, leaving the room, gently shutting the door.
It was been a week since Christmas vacation has started for Riley and her time was spent crying, eating and proof-reading Lucas' biography on Basketball legends. Yes, you read that right. She felt just as pathetic as she looked; her hair in a gross, messy top-knot in her worn-out kitty slippers and bathrobe. Riley wanted to cut Lucas off but it was too hard. No one can just turn off their feelings, especially not someone as emotive as Riley. Reading his words, hearing his voice in her head, it was all so triggering. There was one very close call where she was good and ready to get her Sylvia Plath on, when her uncle called her.
"Hello?" She sniffled, turning off the gas from the stove.
"Riles? Honey, have you been crying again?" In the background was a party of people, laughing and screaming.
"No..." She answered, not even being able to stop her voice from shaking.
"Oh, Riley... I'm coming over."
"No, Josh-"
"I'm coming!"
Within thirty minutes, Riley's uncle Josh came to her rescue. His finger-less gloved hands held his crying niece tightly. He smelled of peppermint and vodka. Josh escorted Riley to her pull-out couch, where Violet was sleeping.
"OK," he sighed, taking off his wool scarf and beanie. "Talk to me."
"I just don't understand." She shrugged looking far away. "I don't understand... why he doesn't love me."
"Because he's an asshole." Josh's slightly drunk mind forgot to be filtered to his niece.
"He is not!"
"OK, OK, he's not, maybe, but honey, you gotta stop this, OK? You got to-get out and enjoy things. Forget about Lucas. He's not worth your time."
"You don't think I haven't heard that before? Dad has said that, Izzie said that, everyone! And I've tried, Josh but everywhere I go in the stupid state, I think about things that we've done or things that he's going to do with her! It's like I can't... I can't escape..." Riley sobbed uncontrollably and Josh pulled her in for another hug, thinking of ways to murder Mr. Friar in his intoxicated mind. He slowly rocked his niece back in forth, shushing her like a baby.
"OK, how about this," Josh spoke up after Riley calmed down. "You have a few weeks. Why not go on a vacation? Get outta town?"
"I don't have the money for that."
"No, there's this thing where you can like, swap houses. My friends have done it. Nobody gets their stuff robbed or gets killed; everyone just has a good time." Riley sat up, giggling and rubbing her eyes.
"Yeah, but, who'd want to come here?" They both looked around her small studio. It was newly built with brick walls and cherry hardwood floor. The room was big enough to have a nice dinner party but no ragers. There were black and white photos of her family and friends on the wall, with her journalism degree. She had a plasma television her dad gave her as a graduation gift, with one wall full of books and Cd's. The kitchen was rather small but that was never a problem for Riley because she didn't cook. Her bedroom pretty much only had space for one person, but there was a closet. The windows in her living room windows had beautiful downtown views. It did have potential.
"I'm sure if you spruce it up with your fancy, journalist jargon, you could make someone fall in love with this place. And you have a cat! Who doesn't like cats?" They both looked a Violet, who purred at them ominously.
"I don't know..."
"Oh, c'mon Riley! What do ya got to lose?" Riley glanced around her apartment one more time, thinking.
The color red splashed against Maya's canvas. After Charlie packed his last box, she locked herself in her paint room blasting loud music for days and creating an 60's art-house scene. Her hands could create beauty or peace in the spirit of Christmas, but right now all there was inside her was fury. Blacks, reds and whites screamed on her once blank tarp. She was listening to My Chemical Romance's "The Ghost Of You" until her ringtone came on. Her iPhone said it was her Momager and she slid the answer button with a black thumb.
"Hey, Mama."
"Hey, baby girl." Katy greeted her sunny. "How are you?"
"OK, all things considered."
"Did that man finally get all of his crap out of your house?"
"Yeah, days ago."
"Well, good riddance. He was nothing but trouble and drinking problems-"
"Mom?" Maya caught her mother's attention with her serious tone.
"Yes, baby?"
"Do... do you think I'm ever going to find anyone? Like, seriously?"
It broke Katy's heart to think that her daughter thought she was going to end up alone. "Baby... of course you are. You're so young! You got your whole life to find somebody and it'll be the right somebody, too!"
"Right now, I feel like I just choose wrong somebody after wrong somebody..." Maya leaned her elbow into her paints, holding her temples and shaking her head. "Maybe it isn't them, y'know? Maybe I'm just irrevocably and utterly screwed up. Maybe I'm just... unlovable."
"No! Maya Hart, you stop that! There are plenty of people who love you! You know that, baby girl. You got me and Farkle and-and Zay and... millions more that love to hear your beautiful voice everyday. You got love all around you, baby girl." Maya silently cried, her salty tears falling in and diluting her red paint.
"I just don't want to be alone, mama."
"You'll never be alone. You'll always have me."
"... Thanks, mom."
"OK, baby girl, you know what you need?"
"No, what?"
"A writing session." Maya rolled her eyes. The term 'Momager' was most definitely created for Katy Hart. "You'll be able to get your feelings out this way. Why don't you call Zay and get somethin' started?"
"Mm, he might be with his family and I wouldn't want to bother him. Besides mom, I'm like... stuck right now. " Truth be told, ever since she released her first album, she's been stuck. That's why Maya decided to make a Christmas album next; already written covers that everyone enjoys. However, her fans, record company and mother have been begging for new music. Maya sighed, "I gotta clear my head, or something."
"That's a good idea. You should take some time off." Maya's thick eyebrows raised, not expecting such a response.
"Mom, please. You know even when I'm taking time off, I'm not taking time off." Although, she wasn't making new music, Maya was still very proactive with her art and YouTube channel, posting a new cover one a week.
"OK, if you feel that way, why don't you go somewhere new and try to write new stuff? I heard it gets all the juices flowin' and the birds hummin' and woodnot."
"Hmm... but, I hate hotels." Maya was washing her hands in her sink, with her mom on speaker.
"Don't have to be a hotel. You could get one of those timeshares. Could be fun! Ooh, my appointments ready, talk to you later, baby girl! Love you, kisses!"
"Love you, mama! Kisses!" Maya puckered her lips and kissed her mom through the phone before hanging up.
On her way to take a hot bath, she took her mom's words to heart. It could be beneficial for her creative writing to have a change of scenery. Besides, her house was full of memories of Charlie. Impulsive, she hopped out of her tub of running bathwater, almost slipping and ran to her bedroom. She grabbed her computer and went back into the tub, leaning on the edge to do some research. Farkle usually did this stuff for her; she was far from tech-savvy and the small print hurt her blue eyes but she didn't like wearing her glasses. Still, Maya went ahead and typed out, 'time share'. That's what she thought she did anyway.
Honestly, with the steam of the water and her stress, Maya couldn't think straight let alone see. She decided bath first, getaway later. She stayed in the tub until she was flesh colored again and her white, marble bath tub was stained with paint. Maya changed into her over-sized The Strokes band t-shirt and put on her horn-rimmed glasses, so she wouldn't have a headache.
When she skimmed down her screen, Maya's nose scrunched up, puzzled.
"What the hell...?" Apparently, she clicked on a home exchange website and not a time-share one. She was about to redirect the search, but then she saw how nice the homes actually looked. They were already furnished, cleaned and paid for. She had free range of everything, but, this person she switched homes with had the same rules for her home. Intrigued, she continued down the page. In a large web bar, it asked Maya where she wanted to go. She knew she wanted to stay in the states because her last tour was of Europe and jet-lag wasn't her friend.
"Somewhere far... but not Bumblefuck, USA." Maya thought out loud. Her palm scratched her head until she thought, "New York! Perfect!" She typed quickly and in the next minute almost 100 results came to view.
"Whoa..." She looked down the list, reading off the titles.
"Pretty, two bedroom home in Staten Island? Next. Rustic home, isolated in Upstate NY? No, no thank you Jason Voorhees, I need to be around people. Ooh, wait."
Maya moved her mouse to the home labeled, 'Mid-Town Manhattan Studio Only Steps Away From 5th Ave!" The word 'shopping' blinked in the blonde's mind.
She read the description, "Cozy studio pied-a-terre in quiet, safe, and historic neighborhood near the United Nations. The apartment is in a 24-hour doorman building, and has been recently renovated with new kitchenette, bathroom, and double-paned windows. A new and comfortable queen-sized Murphy Bed sleeps two adults, and a sleep sofa can sleep 2 children or one additional adult. The apartment has an unobstructed view of the East River and the United Nations! Within the building is a small grocery store, a deli, post office, and dry cleaners. Perfect location: close to Broadway, Fifth Avenue Shopping, and museums!"
Maya scrolled down to see a picture of a pretty brunette named Riley, who was the same age as her. Riley had a green dot next to her name, meaning she was online to talk to. She bit her lip and hesitantly clicked on the 'chat' button.
Maya: Hello?
A few seconds later...
Riley: Hello!
Maya went into a small fit of panic, not knowing what to say next until she saw another line of dialogue.
Riley: Are you still there?
Maya: Yes. I am.
Riley: Good!
Tapping her keyboard, Maya wasn't sure how honest she wanted to be about this.
Maya: Honestly, I'm kinda nervous about this whole thing. I'm a virgin with this.
Riley: Haha! Me too.
Maya: So, it looks like we swap homes for how long?
Riley: As long as we want. We swap homes, cars - everything. Except, I don't have a car.
Maya: Can you drive?
Riley: Not at all.
Maya: Really?
Riley: Nope, it makes me nervous. Besides, in New York, you can walk everywhere!
Maya: So, can I ask you something, Riley?
Riley: Of course.
Maya: Why are you doing this?
A few minutes lapsed before Riley response appeared:
Riley: Honestly?
Riley: I'm getting away from a breakup.
Maya: NO WAY! ME TOO!
Riley: Where do you live?
Maya: California.
In less of a second flat, Riley sent:
Riley: LA?
Maya: Malibu, but it's all the same.
Riley: I've never been to LA...
Maya: It's warm.
Riley: I like warm... and the beach. OK, I'm sold!
Maya: Haha! Great! But, I have one more question, though.
Riley: Shoot.
Maya: Are there any men where you live?
After ruling out the taken men, the homosexual men, and the men who were dogs, Riley replied:
Riley: Zero.
Riley waited with baited breath for Maya's next response, then her computer pinged.
Maya: So... when do you wanna light this candle?
AN: If you like what you read, please review. Thanks guys.