At this moment there are 6,470,818,671 people in the world. Some are running scared. Some are coming home. Some tell lies to make it through the day. Others are just now facing the truth. Some are evil men, at war with good. And some are good, struggling with evil. Six billion people in the world. Six billion souls. And sometimes, all you need is one.

"Stewart, I need you to get me Jordan Pruitt's latest mix, she's getting here in an hour, and I want to be ready."

I looked up from the game of solitaire I was currently absorbed in. "Of course Mr. Park. I'll see that it is on your desk within the next ten minutes."

He nodded gruffly, before walking away.

So this is what trying living the dream was really like. I had moved out to L.A in the hopes of getting a record deal. I knew I had a good voice and just wanted people to give me a chance. Instead, I was a paper-pusher for Hollywood Records.

I sighed, slipping my uncomfortable heels back onto my feet. Dealing with all the big celebrities that came in here all the time, I always had to look my best, due to my boss' wishes. Clad in a boat-necked blue silky tank, and tight black jeans, I felt a little to fancy for a day of filing papers.

"You'd better hurry up or Park will have your ass," whispered Ashley, my co-worker and friend. "You know he's looking to cut back staff."

"Yeah, I'll be right back," I grumbled, sliding out of my chair, grabbing Jordan Pruitt's latest track with me.

Walking down the halls of Hollywood Record recording studio was always a new experience for me. The place was huge, and to find ways to pass the time, I would always find new hallways and stairwells to get me to where I needed to go. Mainly, the coffee maker and my desk. To say this job was boring was an understatement.

"Here you go Mr. Park." I slipped into his office, handing him the CD.

Mr. Park didn't even look up as I put the CD on his desk. "Bring these back down to the filing cabinets, will you Milly?"

You'd think after a year here, the sleezeball would know my name. "Of course Sir," I said, trying to figure out the best way to carry the stack of at least one hundred files.

After successfully picking up the stack if folders, I headed down the staircase, being careful not to trip over my own feet.

"Seriously," I whispered, "My life sucks."

Walking out of the staircase, I tried to adjust the folders so that I could see over them. I really didn't want to end up getting fired for tripping into some big executive, or even worse, one of the recording artists. Lost in my thoughts, I tripped over a little bump in the carpet.

"What the--?!" someone yelled, crashing into me.

I started picking up the folders around me, too scared to see who it was that I just bumped into. "I'm so sorry! Really, I should look where I'm going. Really, I am sorry." My hands were shaking so bad as another pair of hands reached down to help me pick everything up.

"Don't worry about it," said the sexiest voice I ever heard.

Looking up, I gasped in shock. "Mr. Jonas, I am so sorry. Please, let me get the folders! You shouldn't be on the floor."

Chuckling, he got up and then reached out his hand to me. "It's no problem. And please, call me Nick."

Avoiding his hand I stood up and brushed my brown hair out of my eyes. Looking around, I realized that Joe and Kevin were there too, smiling at me. "Again, I'm so sorry about that."

"Stewart! What the hell are you doing?" I heard Mr. Park yell. Shit, I was toast. "I told you to bring the files down here, not knock over our biggest selling band!"

"I-I'm so sorry Sir," I stammered, fighting tears.

Mr. Park glared at me. "Yeah, well, clean out your desk Milly. This was the last straw."

Great, not only was I fired today, but I had an audience to witness it. And not just any audience either.

Nick Jonas cleared his throat before speaking. "Mr. Park, it was my fault."

I whipped my head around. What was he doing?

"And I would feel just awful if you fired her because of me," he continued. He looked dead serious, but I saw the smirk playing at the corner if his mouth. "So please, do my conscience this one little favor."

Mr. Park looked extremely flustered. "Well, alright. If it means the much to you, Milly can stay." Turning to me he barked, "You're rehired Stewart. Get the files to the cabinets. Now."

"Thank you so much Sir. Of course!" Picking up the folders as fast as I could, I ran down the hall and out of sight. Putting them back down on the floor, I sank down until I was sitting, and tried to get my heartbeat back.

"So don't I get a 'thank you'?" I looked up to see Nick Jonas staring down at me.

Jumping to my feet, I smoothed my jeans with my hands. "Thank you so much, Mr. Jonas! What can I do to pay you back?"

"Let's start with calling me Nick, shall we?" Nick smiled at me, and then turned a little shy.

Turning around to continue on with the job I was just spared, I picked up everything off the floor and started walking away.

"Wait!" Nick called, walking two feet to stand directly in front of me. "I thought of a way that you can say 'thank you'."

A smirk rested on his face, making me nervous.

"How about your phone number?" he asked, looking at me.

Most of our lives are a series of images, they pass us by like towns on a highway. But sometimes a moment stuns us as it happens and we know that this instant is more than a fleeting image. We know that this moment, every part of it, will live on forever.