Hey all. i'm Gonna be writing from all POVs most likely, but ill try to keep the switching to a minimum. Starting with Juliette Sinclair.
Juliette POV
"Last call, now boarding flight 216 out of Nice to London. Dernier appel, désormais vol d'embarquement 216 sur Nice pour Londres."
Oh crap that's me! I grabbed my coffee and my laptop bag and slung it around my shoulders as I ran to my gate. I made it just as the lady at the flight desk was closing the door.
"Wait! Wait! S'il vous plait!" The woman glanced at me, my outstretched ticket, and my most likely chaotic appearance before waving me through the door. I ran onto the plane and slung myself into the first class seat. I settled myself in and started to fall asleep. An hour into the flight, my attendant stopped by to wake me and let me know that we'd be landing in Paris in a half hour. I pulled out my laptop to double check that my layover was long enough for me to pick up real food, rather than McDonald's or the like. I had an hour and change so I figured I'd stop somewhere yummy but fast before I changed out of my pjs. I hated red eye flights, but at the last possible minute, this was the only thing available.
It was a relatively uneventful hour. The plane landed, everyone rushed to get off asap. I waited til the end to exit, cause I knew some connecting flights only laid over for fifteen minutes. I was humming to myself when I realized something. Something horrible.
I left my baggage in the coffee shop. In Nice. I was moving so I'd be getting the rest of my wardrobe in a month or so, which meant that, as of right now, I had a pair of red converse, two ratty old t-shirts, a too-big pair of sweats, and a pair of grey leggings. I didn't even have my contacts! Well, I'd be lucky to get the job I had applied for. Screw that, I'll be lucky if I don't die from embarrassment. I was broke too, one of those starving college kids. I had saved up all my money for my two hundred pound plane ride over here and my first month's rent for my new apartment, so I literally had no money in my bank account. I had eleven and change pounds in my jacket pocket for bus fare and maybe a coffee. Definitely not enough for actual food or for clothes. 'Great. This moving idea is going fan-freaking-tastic'. I decided to just stick with my new motto "Screw it" and ignore the misfortune. I went back to singing to myself.
"Tell me you've had trouble sleeping
That you toss and turn from side to side
That it's my face you've been seeing
In your dreams at night"
I'd been writing my own music for a while, ever since I decided to move last year. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents, they've supported me and they're amazing, it's just that there are certain things they approve and certain things that they really really don't. Take for example, my piano lessons. When I was five, I decided I loved piano and wanted to become the best there was after reading about Van Cliburn, a young American who traveled overseas to compete in Russia during the Cold War. The 'bad guy' as I liked to think of him, actually awarded Van the first place because he was the best, regardless of the fact that he wasn't a soviet. So I decided that I wanted to be the best and travel everywhere. I practiced everyday and I loved it. I only ever played Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninoff, if it was written after 1950, it was too 'new'.
My parents only approved of classical music, so that's all I had. I loved it, but last year, I heard a song playing loudly at our neighbors house and fell in love with it. I figured I was sixteen now, I could rebel without too many repercussions, so I went online and downloaded everything I could by the artist, a band called the Beatles. I fell in love with that music then too. It went on like that for months, me learning everything I could get my hands on and writing out the music for it when my parents came home and heard me playing a pop song. They looked at my iPod and saw all the new music on it and they saw that I started following pop culture and dressing so you could actually see my knees and they freaked out. They closed me off and pulled me out of my home schooling group. They're both professors so I got my very own private teachers for my final year of school. It was in that claustrophobic little world that I decided to move away, and I figured that since I'd basically finished my four-year degree through homeschooling and professors mere and pere, I could attend a few classes at the Royal Academy of Performing Arts in London. That's where any and all of my winnings from past piano competitions went, so I'd already paid for my first year of class.
That little verse was something I literally dreamed up and I hadn't been able to get it out of my mind since. I tried to finish it, but the rest just hadn't come to me yet. By now I had returned to my jet and prepared myself for my hour and twenty minute ride to London.
Can anyone guess the song? I don't own it and i'll be putting more of it up as i go.